Missouri Showme September, 1948 Missouri Showme September, 1948 2008 1948/09 image/jpeg Publications & Alumni Communications These pages may be freely searched and displayed. Permission must be received for subsequent distribution in print or electronically. Please contact hollandm@missouri.edu for more information. Missouri Showme Magazine Collection University of Missouri Digital Library Production Services Columbia, Missouri 108 show194809

Missouri Showme September, 1948; by Students of the University of Missouri Columbia, MO 1948

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Missouri Showme September 1948 Camel Cigarettes Savitar Columbia Beauty Clinic Julie's Letters to Showme Dear Editor: Although I am transferring to another school, the boys here at the fraternity would like to continue receiving Showme again this year. Your magazine passes from hand to hand and there is usually a line waiting to read it. Carlton C. Chopp, Bowling Green, Ohio Dear Ed: Since the University of Penn- sylvania has no humor magazine, we thoroughly enjoyed receiving Showme last year. The above is a hint that we'd like to subscribe again. Bob Cathcart, Philadelphia Dear Showme: . and so I am still wondering what happened to the short story that I contributed to you last year. Paul Clevenger, Columbia, Mo. Showme is still holding over a hundred mss.-"uhich were contri- buted last year. We will gladly return any of these to their authors. Ed. Mr. Editor: . .after all, there are still some young people in the world who do not relish your type of humor. B. F. Dalgren, Columbia, Mo. Every publisher learns sooner or later that you can't please all of the people all of the time. Ed. Dear Showme: Where is your office? Charlie Cooper, Columbia, Mo. At this writing SHOWME has no office, is still trying to find an- other broom closet at University expense. Ed. Mr. Editor: Maybe this is none of my busi- ness, but I'd like to know how many copies of Showme are printed each month. C. I. Bell, Columbia, Mo. With this issue, Showme circu- lation is increased to 3500 per month. Ed. Harmon's Watch Nook The Carousel The Stable This month's cover, dedicated to the timeless confusion of the college freshman, is the work of our Art Editor, "Flash"' Fairfield. We told Flash that this was the Welcome Issue; that we wanted a cover on the Welcome-Back-to- Columbia theme. But nostalgic and reminiscent Fairfield recalled another year when he was a fresh- man himself and set to work in a sympathetic mood. For Flash, this was a busy sum- mer In addition to his work on the cover and his duties as Art Editor, he undertook to supervise the printing of the magazine's sta- tionery, handbills, blotters, adver- tising contracts, and other sundry pieces of literature. He is now looking forward to a couple of months rest before doing another cover. For the information of the curi- ous, Showme covers are printed in four colors by a pre-separation process. This means that the cover artist must make a plate for each color used. It's a big and time- consuming job. Our artists have spent from twenty to eighty hours apiece on them in the past. STAFF Editor-in-Chief Charles Nelson Barnard Associate Editors Bill Gabriel, Jr. Richard R. Sanders Business Manager Phil Sparano Advertising Director Jean Suffill Art Editor Flash Fairfield Photo Editors John Trimble Sinclair Rogers Feature Editor Diana Lee Pattison Fiction Editor William Diehl Sales Managers William McCarter William Herr Keith Chader Art Staff Nick Bova Pat Bauman Terry Rees Tom Ware Advertising Staff Jim Higgins Thomas P. Keating Norma Marmoci Features Bob Rowe Jerry Litner Saul Gellerman Secretaries Vera Stenger Anna Lee Plotz Nancy Shatz Missouri Showme Dear Reader: As we told you when this feature was inaugurated last year, it will be in this space each month that Showme tells you a little about itself, about its struggles and its triumphs - however minor either may be. For the editor and his staff, the summer was a chaos of letters, telegrams, post cards, and sleepless nights. Some of the strange fruit borne by this activity may be seen in this issue. You may thumb over some of it, or wonder why we put it in. To determine your tastes, dear reader, we took a survey in the waning weeks of last semester. We found that nearly ten thousand of you read SHOWME every month, that you are literate, and that, despite your literacy, most of you liked the. magazine. This warmed the cockles of our jaded hearts. Most popular feature of the magazine seemed to be the center spread, and the least popular, the fiction story. Therefore, on page 14 of this issue you will find a fiction story. This defiance on our part is just to show you who the hell puts out the magazine! Most of the staff that dressed Natalie last year are back, with the notable and lamentable exception of Mort' Walker. Mort's cartoons can now be seen with reg- ularity in the Saturday Evening Post. Sincerely, Charles Nelson Barnard Editor-in-Chief. Volume XXVI September, 1948 Number 1 Published monthly during the school year by students of tbe University of Missouri. Printed by Modern Litho-Print Co., Jefferson City, Mo., Anton Hiesberger, owner. All copyrights reserved. Contributions from the students of the University welcomed, but the editors cannot assume responsibility for unsolicited material. Address con- tributions to Missouri SHOWME, Jay H. Neff Hall, University of Missouri, Columbia, Mo. Subscription rates: $2.00 in Columbia for nine issues during the school year, $2.50 by mail. Single issues, 25 cents. 5 COME the gladiators and the maids, The Queens of Hearts and the Knaves, Rolling in chariots hydramatic, To battle the lions academic. 6 Around the Columns Overheard "It's sure good to be back at old M. U." "Sure is. I need a rest." September Welcome back . . . welcome back. . . How was the summer? . . . Wel- come back. . Shake the hand and clap the shoulder; you just can't remember the guy's name, but there is his face and he's friendly. . . . Welcome back, the hundreds say; welcome back, the thousands echo. . . . September is a blended month: a blend of summer memories and last semester's recollec- tions. . . . Old place hasn't changed much, has it? . . . Welcome back, it's good to see you again. . Crowds at the Wabash station. . . . Taxis that disgorge old friends and baggage in front of the houses. . . . Boy, but you're tanned! Have a good summer? . . . Shirt sleeves and rush week and rumors of the Big Seven title yet to be won. . . . Some faces are missing, gone the way of all graduates: to the "outside." Book lines . . . registra- tion lines . . . fill in in duplicate . . . fill in in triplicate . . last name first . . and then the middle initial . . what would they do in the Registrar's office without the middle initial? . . . schedule planning: crafty task . . . first day in class and the crack of new books being opened . . . new profes- sors . . . new horizons. . . . Welcome back: it's September. What Color Herring? The witch hunt is on! From now on in this fair land many a flat stone will be overturned to see what subver- sive fauna lurk beneath. Organiza- tions will be probed. Publications will be watched with special care. Mizzou's campus, heretofore called every shade of red from scarlet to sunset pink will no doubt come in for its share of scrutiny. The following are the danger signs which investigators should note with special diligence: (1) Any Greek letter organization which takes Rho Epsilon Delta as its nom d'existence. (2) Any bearded students who mumble "all value is hu- man labor time" under the breath. (3) Any faculty member showing a partiality to the music of Tchaikovsky .or Shastakovitch. (4) Anyone with reversed seats at performances of the Don Cassack chorus. (5) Any resi- dence or organized house from which teachers are seen jumping from third story windows. (6) Any restaurant patron seen ordering vodka, borsch, or caviar. (7) Anyone commuting to and from Columbia in a Maxim Gorky bomber. (8) Anyone showing unusual proficiency in the operation of a trac- tor. (9) Readers of the Harvard Crimson. (10) Red Grange. Showme is happy to report, however, that witch hunters and similar ilk need not tap our telephone nor shadow our staff members. Each of us has re- cently passed an exhaustive . loyalty check; all were found loyal to Show- me. We're Proud The editors of Showme are happy to welcome three chief executives to the subscription list. Each month throughout the coming school year, President Harry S. Truman, Governor Phil M. Donnelly, and University Presi- dent Frederick A. Middlebush will find their copy of Showme in the mail. Columbia Baedecker For you newcomers to this so-called "Athens of the Middle West" Showme presents the facts. When you've read them, you may agree with Mark Twain when he said that statistics were only one form of lying. For the curious, however, here goes: Columbia has an area of 5.5 square miles, it is 746 feet above sea level, an average rainfall of 39 inches, an average snowfall of 20 inches, and the sun shines 62% of the time. There are over 9,000 telephones in the city, and about 9,000 automobi!e registra- tions. Columbians spend about $400,- 000 annually for postage, and they en- dure approximately 57 thunderstorms in a like period. Over 99% of the residents are American born and they own property valued at over twelve million dollars within the city limits. There are three hotels here, twenty churches, five theatres, three hospitals, two newspapers, two railroads, two libraries, seventeen schools, and seventy miles of streets. Athens was never like this. War of the Generations? After being exposed to a summer at liberty from the collegiate world-a summer during which we mingled with those on the outside of the cloistered halls of learning and the ivied walls of academic impedimentia, we give 7 pause to reflect on this rare creature, the college student, and his "place" in society. Perhaps only when away from college can he see himself in true per- spective-or, at least, as he is mir- rored in the opinions of others. Our conclusion is that Joe College is not so much a character of his own creation as he is the creation of others who see him and think they know him. Joe College, in short, is, in most cases, a fiction of misunderstanding, con- ceived and nurtured by ignorance. Who-and what-is Joe College? As others see him, he is the rich, spoiled son of wealthy parents. He is totally disinterested in education, per se. He is a vain collector of argyle socks, convertible Cadillacs, dance in- vitations, and fawning females. He is a worshipper at the altar of fraterni- ties, sororities, and the pendulous key chain. He is an artist at seduction and other libertine conduct. His feminine counterpart is seen as a scheming female, whose primping pose, meticulous attention to style, taste for liquor and tobacco, and de- signs on Joe's fraternity pin are logical outgrowths of her empty head and base morals. These opinions are abroad in the land. Do not mistake it. It is re- gretable that their circulation jeopar- dizes the millions of American youths who go to college to get an education and who may, incidentally, have a good time while doing it, The sooner mom and dad and many prospective em- ployers realize that every college cam- pus is not an annex to the Court of Versailles and a flesh-pot in which the younger generation wallows, the sooner the Joe College myth will become the College Joe success story. Amen. Showme Marches On We got a letter the other day from our old friend, Time magazine. It was a lulu. " It had everything. It had drama, it had pathos, it had power, it had beauty. It said, in stroke-of-doom Timestyle: "The iron brooms are sweeping . . . through the hungry, rubbled streets of Berlin . . . down Macedonian hillsides into beleaguered Greek mountain towns . . . into Tito's steel-fenced back yard . . . now in China, then in Burma, in Mukden . . . across thresholds, nations, continents. But as the red dust blows into men's eyes . . . democracies stir with plan and promise . ." When we reached this point we were really getting stirred up. We were ready to act. We had our sleeves rolled up, brother, and we were look- ing around for one of those Red mon- keys just to show good old Time maga- zine what Americans are made of. But, sad to relate, we read on: "Whether we like it or not, we Americans are finally called upon to extend our ideas of freedom-to awaken from our un- easy dreams on our atomic pillow . . . And (Time) offers you. a special in- troductory rate . . . only $3.87." The cruel blow had fallen. The craven commercial cry had shattered the Olympian air! We were crest- fallen. But not long. If mighty Time can do it, so can mitey Showme, i. e. Last week they came. Out of Pitts- burgh and Duluth and Forked Stick and Painted Post. Out of the cities, out of the towns and hamlets and villages and whistle stops they came. Like an army of invading locusts con- verging on a prime wheat field. Co- lumbia Missouri drowsed quietly, ex- pectant. The students were returning. What were they thinking? What were their hopes, their dreams, their tastes, their opinions, their buying power? Everywhere men watched and waited. Natives looked from windows and doors and porches. Restauranteurs braced for the hungry onslaught. To bring you this story, to analyze and evaluate and focus this kaleido- scope of American youth, Showme of- fers you the next nine months of Mis- souriana for just two dallars. Mr. Luce, move over. Reign of Pisistratus Like an awakening giant, the "Greek World"-as it likes to call itself on the Mizzou camups-came to life last week and engaged itself in a self-in- dulgent spasm known as Rush Week. By means of this show of force, would- be fraternity men and sorority women are selected from the ranks of the hope- fuls and little Greeks are born. We like to watch the evolution of the little Greek. From the chrysalis or pledge stage, the development is quite rapid, and is often* accompanied by changes of habit and character. Sometimes a smile, like that of the proverbial canary-eating cat, is ac- quired. In other cases, a pipe loaded with aromatic tobacco, and clenched in teeth or hand with conscious care- lessness is an indication of approaching puberty. Complete development is not reached, however, until the Period of Boredom or yawning indifference sets in. When this is accomplished, our Greek is ready for a toga fitting and a diploma entitling him to leave the scene of his conquest and to thence- forward travel incognito through life. In Memoriam It would seem fitting'this year if the Wabash station were draped in deepest mourning. Only the most somber shrouds will be appropriate to mark the passing of a Mizzou tradition that has been scarred by the jokesters and ridiculed by the sophisticates. The famed "Cannonball," whose ancient coach has for so long brought student and professor alike into Columbia has been retired to its rest. In its place is a "new" Cannonball, although to grace its successor with this affectionate term seems almost sacrilige. The transformation, how- ever, is nothing violent. No sleek streamlined chromium job has taken our "Cannonball's" place, but rather a coach of medium vintage,.circa 1900 we would estimate. We suppose that as the years march along, this imposter will come to be known as the "Cannonball" by suc- ceeding generations of neophyte stu- dents. There are days when we wish that sentiment did not always have to yield to progress. American Life: Circa 1948 We notice a frightening trend in the number and variety of automatic, coin operated, dispensing machines that are appearing in public places. There was a time when the penny scales was the only such mechanical marvel, but to- day we get the impression that you can buy anything from a clean diaper change for baby to a Tom Collins from coin operated machines. There is a fascination to watching these gimmicks do their duty. We saw one the other day that could have been conceived only in the frazzled mind of a pin ball machine creator. This boon to a thirsty humanity was dispensing for 10c a large glass of fresh orange juice. Its electronic intestines, which were visible through a glass window, were selecting oranges from a pile, slicing them in halves, and squeezing them with terrifying thoroughness so that the juice emitted from an outside spigot, a la Automat. The Columbia post office has re- cently installed an automatic stamp dispensing machine in its lobby for the convenience of those, who need postage when there is no service at the windows. This imposing looking gad- get takes your money into its maw, growls with the importance of the Postmaster General himself, and then sticks out a tongue of stamps at you. We regret to report, however, that the machine is far from perfect. It's creators have forgotten something. The stamps which it sells are not moistened. We Wear Wassail's Weeds Many an M. U. guy and gal will mourn the passing of yet another tra- dition; will bow their heads in thirsty sorrow; will remember with 5f% senti- ment: the Dixie Cafe on South Eighth Street is closed forever. Our old friend passed away on June 30th, 1948. The wake was an im- pressive one. As the lights were blinked to signal the final closing, all the faithful in attendance rose to their feet and paid a final tribute: they rev- erently sang Old Missouri. For some time it was not quite clear whether Friday would be re- moved from the calendar, or whether "Dixie Day" of song and story would live on. It now seems, however, that the week will continue to have seven days. The "New" Dixie-minus the memories, but with most of the at- mosphere retained - has opened its doors and welcomed the faithful home. 9 "Joe, don't tell me we're gonna pledge this guy?" Candidly Mizzou SINCLAIR ROGERS-SHOWME THE SWAMI tells all. Will the Tigers make the Rose Bowl? Will your true love get the Knight Owl crown? What will Jesse Wrench do next? A mystic read Dorothy O'Brien's palm at Read Hall's midsummer carnival but couldn't tell her much more than "the harvest moon will shine." What Will Be Happening This Fall? Except for an election and a red hot Tiger team, Mizzou will be the same. SHOWME shows what we'll be doing while the harvest moon shines on. JOHN TRIMBLE-SHOWME WELCOME HOME proceedings won't end when the big rush of "back to school" is over. The football team will be coming home from battle five times this year. Homecoming for alumns will be Thanksgiving, K. U. vs. M. U. 10 SINCLAIR ROGERS-SHOWME ORIENTATION for freshman girls is a joke, or at least one would think after seeing this shot of the assembly last year. Of course there will be a new crop of girls this fall. We hope they find the facts of M. U. as funny. JOHN TRIMBLE-SHOWME KNIGHT OWL will be crowned at the AWS Skirt Swing next month, when the gals get a chance to ask the guys. Cam- paigiiirlg for Knight position brings forth the best work of camprnus idea nim n. (e. g. this owl suit.) SINCLAIR ROGERS-SHOWME JESSE WRENCH, M. U.'s humor loving prof is on hand reg- istration time to check tickets. As usual, he wears a mustache, goalee, and hairnet. Missing here, however, is his famous beret. SINCLAIR ROGERS-SHOWME THE MISSOURI TIGERS are picked to cop Big Seven honors this year (see pages 16 and 17). Braznell, Glorioso, and Entsminger are expected to furnish the flashy stuff, with Fuchs, Pepper, and Captain Fritz the star bulldozers. First home game vs.' S. M. U., Oct. 9. 11 READ HALL always furnishes plenty of doings, in the fall or any time. Miss Louise Robinson, the Hall director, had a real gone time at the midsummer carnival. Real gone. SINCLAIR ROGERS-SHOWME HELLRAISING isn't confined to the fraternities, although theirs is more organized. Such a planned operation is this pond-dunking of an active during a pledge walkout. This sort of thing might be called (ughl) all wet. SINCLAIR ROGERS-SHOWME BIG BEER BUSTS are M. U.'s specialty. In fall they are pretty good, but in the spring they reach gigantic propor- tions. Here are some engineers at theirs. Even their mug is big. 12 SINCLAIR ROGERS-SHOWME SHORT PANTS are ready for Tiger gridmen if the weather gets too hot. Shown are the pants and one of the models of knee pads which Coach Faurot was testing during spring drills. Coach said something about bare midriff jersies too. JOHN TRIMBLE-SHOWME JOHN TRIMBLE-SHOWME THE COSMOS hold a couple of masquerades a year, which are the only ones allowed, according to University rules. They do a fine job, as seen here in the getups of a couple of their guests. JOHN TRIMBLE-SHOWME POLITICOS are liable to be storming the campus this month to "get the student vote," of which there won't be much from non-Columbia, non-commuting residents. H. Wallace made a try here last spring anyway. Anyone voting? SINCLAIR ROGERS-SHOWME CHEESECAKE at M. U. is pretty limited. Art classes (left) call it "female model", while the usually straightforward Savitar Frolics, as represented by the Theta chorus (right), calls it "entertainment." Showme, which prints some every month, prefers to call it by a three-letter word beginning in S and ending in X. 13 Pick Up. 3HE neon sign was blue and it blinked on and off. First it said Blue- bird and then it said Dine and Dance. He sat in the car and watched it. He'd heard a lot about the place, but he'd never been here before. He was alone. This was the kind of place that men went to alone. He pulled the keys from the ignition and went in. It was loud inside. They were play- ing a polka. It was dark with thick smoke. He couldn't see much except the band and dark forms dancing. The bar was in the next room. He knew where it would be. He hadn't come to dance. "Yours?" "Rye high-double." They're all alike. From New York to Dalas to 'Frisco. Barkeeps are all alike. Know everything, say nothing. And they've all got a price-like cab drivers. Close-mouthed, careful, cat- eyed. Take this one. He's sizing me up now. Probably knows already which car out there is mine. Knows what I came here for. He thinks he does. I wonder if there's anything about me that he recognizes. Never saw me be- fore, but he's seen hundreds like me. He thinks I'm green. Maybe he re- members her. "Do it again," he said. "Double?" "Yeah." Looks like a lot of stag gals in there. What the hell do they do it for? I know why we do it, but they work at it. Night after night. The same gals; different guys. They look tired, like those two going to the powder room. I know what they talk about in there. They flop on the couch, kick off their shoes, and curse. That's what I'd do anyway. Then they put on a new face, give the girdle a tug and come out in pairs-always in pairs and always talking. They never go in or come out alone. Always two. There's a kinship between 'em. "Gimmie another," he said. "Still double?" "Yeah." I ought to move in on that floor soon. It's getting late. That's what The setting and the action were routine, but he had a motive that wasn't. I came out here for. Look at that big blonde jitterbug! Look at that ex- pression! She learned to smile that way in some night club line. Then she got fat like she is and they didn't want her any more. So she's here and she's not bad. All she's got is a prayer. Maybe that guy'll treat her right and maybe he'll drop her at some B.M.T. station with a nickle in her hand. She's got no way of knowing. But she's got to try. You never own more than one pair of nylons in her racket and a gal can't be sure where the next pair's coming from. Christ! I must be getting soft, or else I know too much. He moved away from the bar, lighted a cigarette, moved in on the dancers. A big man in a dark suit came toward him. The big man said something and he dropped the cigarette and stepped on it. No smoking on the dance floor! Hogwash! You can pick up a woman here, but you can't smoke on their God-blessed dance floor. Where's that blonde? Wonder if she's left with that guy already? That looked my type. A little rough, maybe; a little too much make up, but a good sort. She looked tired. And bored. But she's got to live. Some jobs just aren't as good as others. Well, for chrisakes, there she is! Alone. He worked his way across the floor (Continued on page 28 ) by Jon Lyle .Gently "You're not like the others," she said. Dick Braznell Chester Fritz Nick Carras Watch the Tigers They'll Take The Big Seven, Say 25 out of 36 Press Polls by John Trimble When the first fall crowd hit the Stable two weeks ago, a few cold brews did a funny thing. Someone started singing the oldtime M. U. songs and pretty soon the whole room became reverent in the singing of "Hail Missouri." The school spirit which ran for the nearest exit at the end of football games last year seems to have revived itself. The Missouri Tigers are all set this fall to give that spirit a booster shot that may well put M. U. back into the good old rah-rah class. Press and radio men have picked M. U. to cop the Big Seven by 25 to 7 votes. Out of the seven pressmen voting nay, six firsts go to Oklahoma and one to, of all people, Kansas State, the most-likely for celler slot. The men who picked M. U. included out- standing sports brains of Associated Press, K. C. Star, Des Moines Register- Trib., Omaha World-Herald, and St. Louis Star-Times. Not inculded in the press tabulation are Football Maga- zine, Look, and Pic, which predict Tigers in the Orange Bowl. Whether this year's is such an im- proved team or whether M. U. favor- itism is due to weakened conference opponents depends on whose sports page you read. Our money says its a little of the latter and a whole lot of the former. With 24 returning lettermen the team is missing little but Abrams, Austin, and Quirk. To this main stem you can add a year's experience and a fine bunch of ex-frosh. You re- member Glorioso's rambling in the spring games? Well Big John's slated to be about the most spectacular run- ning sophomore in this year's league. Another ex-frosh is Gene Ackerman, an end who will double in basketball. Gene is 6 feet 4 inches, weighs 209, and can pull passes from the strato- sphere. What the Tiger's starting lineup will be from game to game could just as well be decided flipping a coin, as the roster stands three deep all around on brawn, brain, and gumption. A week before the first game, the athletic department might send out the fol- lowing eleven for photographs. THE RIGHT SIDE of the Tiger line will pack plenty of punch. All-conference end Mel Sheehan, left, is 6 feet 3 inches, weighs 210. Tackle Dick Scholfield and guard Gene Pepper are both 6 feet 1 inch and 202 lbs. of fast and hard line material. They will open the holes for Missouri's offense. 16 Bob Fuchs Bronko Marusic Gene Pepper Dick Braznell and Nick Carras at halfback. Dickie Boy was number six in league ground-gainers last fall, can pass with the throttle wide open. Nick scored five times in his late '47 debut. He's a slippery runner. Wilbur Volz, M. U.'s jack-of-all- trades, has come into the fullback position vacated by Big Ed Quirk. He'll have to do some fancy plowing to keep that slot from Winfard Carter, a converted guard who has shown up well in practice. Bob Fuchs at the pivot should make all-conference this year. If he has trouble (unlikely) there is Giles Blair, another rough and ready junior. Guards are a page deep so we'll stick to the sample lineup with Bronko Marusic and Gene Pepper. Both St. Louis juniors, these bulldozers have combined speed, over 200 brawn, and a love for good clean mayhem into something Faurot should be proud of. M. U. publicity reports Pepper eats more than anyone at the training table. Tackles on the first glimpse are Chester Fritz, this year's captain and (Continued on page 33 ) FIVE THREE-LETTER MEN are back. A wartime rule allowed then to make the varsity while frosh. So they'll be playing for letter number four this fall. Left to right are: seated, Wilbur Volz, Rollie Oakes; standing, Howard Bonnett, Bus Entsminger, and Loyd Brinkman. 17 The Middlebush Story by Richard Sanders WHEN you're snowed under with work, and have two quizzes the next day, and haven't written home for a week, and your friends are calling you to go to a show, you'll probably tell yourself there isn't a busier per- son on the campus. But you'll be wrong. The tall, heavy set man be- hind the president's desk in Jesse Hall follows a schedule that should make you thankful you're only a student here. Since last May, Dr. Frederick A. Middlebush has flown to Washington twice monthly for conferences and hearings of the Committee on Organ- ization of the Military Establishment, which advises the Congress on organ- ization and efficiency in the armed 18 forces. Work on eight other national and state committees, monthly meet- ings with the Board of Curators, con- sultations with the legislature, speak- ing tours, and University business round out his schedule. Dr. Middlebush sometimes wishes for the 'good old days' when college presidents taught classes. "I like to teach better than anything else," he says," and one of my greatest regrets is that my job doesn't leave me more time to spend with the students." Mrs. Middlebush will tell you that when the president took office-in July, 1935- he tried to continue in close touch with the students, maintain social con- tacts with the faculty, and still per- form his duties. This soon proved nearly impossible and, of course, the president's office had first considera- tion. Despite this heavy program, if he's in his office and not in conference, Dr. Middlebush is ready to talk with all visitors-students and professors alike. Behind a large, flattop desk that is always clear of papers, the president genially chats with each caller as if he were the only person on the day's shedule of business. Dr. Middlebush, who is 58, stillre- tains his professorship. He hopes to wind up his career teaching classes again. Even when he was Dean of the School of Business and Public Ad- ministration (from 1926 to 1935) he carried half a schedule of classes. In Chicago last spring, Dr. Middle- bush was elected president of the Na- tional Association of State Universi- ties. He is also a member of the Executive Committee of the Associa- tion of Land Grant Colleges and Uni- versities. Right now, he says, both groups are actively supporting the move for establishment of a national science foundation which would use federal funds to further scientific in- vestigation. When the president is on the cam- pus, his immediate concern is with the business affairs of the University. This variety of tasks includes anything from approving the lists of graduating seniors to allotting the appropriations of the legislature to the various divi- sions of M. U. There are innumerable trips to alumni and other organiza- tions' meetings. The Board of Cura- tors, to which he is directly responsible and which has first priority on his time, meets once a month, if not more often. "It's these unexpected meet- ings that are tough on the schedule" Dr. Middlebush says. Quite often he has to cancel speeches and alter travel- ing plans to allow for a curator's meet- ing. Last year, Dr. Middlebush tried to initiate a policy of meeting regularly with the officers of the Student Gov- ernment Association. Work on the various committees piled up, however, and he had to discontinue the meet- ings. This year he hopes that nothing will interfere with this plan. To escape campus activity and get a good rest at least once a week, the Middlebushes-both devoted outdoors- men-usually spend the weekends on their three hundred acre farm eight miles south of here. "That's one rea- son we don't attend many student social functions," Mrs. Middlebush ex- plains. Their home on the campus, situated between the geology and chemistry buildings, is a lovely old house, they say, but occasionally a bit noisy. Dr. Middlebush admits he is seranaded from time to time. "I'll tell you something that may be surprising," the president offers with a twinkle. "I keep a bird dog, and he's right behind that stone fence on Ninth Street. And I'll tell you something else: in the fall, there's nothing in the world that exceeds Missouri bird hunting!" (Continued on page22) The Cupboard KNIGHT'S DRUG SHOP Central The 29th Year .ALMOST everybody likes to laugh -even if it is at himself. Humor, therefore, is a big business. If you can make people laugh, smile, or just chuckle contentedly, you're in the humor business. It's nothing new. We imagine that many a ribald tale was whispered from Pharaoh to Pharaoh, and many a bawdy ditty echoed through medieval history. With this issue, the Missouri Showme begins its 29th year as the recognized campus humor magazine of the Uni- versity of Missouri, and continues a tradition begun here in 1906 when Homer Croy, the noted writer and humorist, first brought a humor maga- zine to the campus under the title of The Missouri Oven. So far as we know, there was never a humor magazine published on the banks of the Nile, and Pharaoh didn't have to worry about some editor ex- posing the latest royal romance to the jests of the market place. However, since humor was taken from the mar- ket place and put on the printed page it has tread a ticklish path between the fires of misunderstanding and prudery. Like most such publications, the Showme has had an erratic history- a colorfully checkered career, spiced with a little more than the usual amount of faculty friction, but all the same distinguished by success and by the famous names which have been associated with it. Among Showme's notable alumni are such now-famous men as Lyle Wilson, chief of the United Press Washington bureau; Dave Dexter editor of Down- beat; Ralph Daigh, editorial director of Fawcett Publications; O. O. Mc- "I'm sorry, but the Unversity cannot guarantee its courses will qualify you for radio quiz'programs." Intyre, the late, great columnist; and J. V. Connoly of King Features Syndi- cate. The magazine was started by two students, G. H. Combs, Jr. and Wil- liam Tweedie, in October, 1920. The Roaring Twenties proved a hey day for -Showme'. It became as much a part of campus life as hip flasks and racoon coats until, in 1923, the magazine printed a story titled, "The Confes- sions of a Co-ed." It is not clear how much the little lady told about the sinful life of the times, but it was suf- ficient cause for the faculty to ban the magazine. Like an unwelcome weed, however, the magazine continued under a new name-fittingly, The Outlaw. It was at this time, and for six -succeeding years, that O. O. McIntyre, not in the least intimidated by the then-Olym- pians of Jesse Hall, became the maga- zine's godfather, counselor, and spirit- ual guide. The Outlaw continued its lawless but popular ways until 1930 when, once again, the name Showme, prefaced by the word "new," reap- peared. A year later, the "new" was dropped and Showme continued under the sponsorship of Sigma Delta Chi until 1942 when the war forced a suspension of publication for three years. The re-birth of Showme in 1945 saw the magazine begin a climb that brings it to the doorstep of this school year on a high tide of success-both edi- torial and financial. Its circulation in this period has tripled, its advertising revenue has bounded, its size in pages has doubled. Through Showme's pages, over these twenty-eight years, can be seen the life and times of Missouri U: the foibles and fancies; the drives and campaigns; the styles and the slang; the very es- sence of the school. Now independent of campus spon- sorship, Showme is recognized by the new University Board of Publications. It is a member of the National Scholas- tic Press Association, and is rated at, or near, the top of its field by most critics. In 1906, Homer Croy said of his pocket size, five-cent Missouri Oven: "Our purpose is not only to amuse, but to comment on University conditions." Today, Showme carries on with this aim. THE END ANDY'S CASH CORNERS Tiger Delicatessen and Catering Service HAY'S HARDWARE CO. The Jacqueline Shop Middlebush Story . (Continued from page 19) By virtue of his M. U. presidency, Dr. Middlebush serves on the Board of Trustees of the William Rockhill Nel- son Trust. According to the will of the late Mr. Nelson, founder of the Kansas City Star who left his fortunes for the Neslon Art Gallery in Kansas City, the affairs of the gallery are managed by the presidents of Missouri U., Kansas U., and Oklahoma U. Dr. Middlebush is proud of his mem- bership on the Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching. One of six foundations set up by Andrew Carnegie, this group administers pen- sions for retiring teachers and is con- cerned with their general welfare. Dr. Middlebush received his A.B., A.M., and Ph.D. from the University of Michigan, taught history and poli- tical science at Knox College in Gales- burg, Illinois, and came to Missouri in 1922 as an assoicate professor of poli- tical science and public law. Like many a midwesterner, he became well acquainted with the navy during World War II. In 1946, he was vice- chairman of Secretary Forrestal's Civil- ian Advisory Board, which inspected all major bases in this country, and he was one of six civilians chosen to in- spect bases in the Paciifc Area. This last tour, however, was cancelled at the last minute. At present he is chairman of the Academic Advisory Board of the U. S. Merchant Marine Academy and chairman of the Board of Visitors of the Naval Academy at Annapolis. "My affiliation with the navy was purely accidental," he says. "I'm not even a good sailor. I get sea sick." THE END The church service was proceeding successfully when an attractive young widow, who was seated in the bal- cony, became so excited that she leaned out too far and fell over the railing. Her dress caught in the chandelier and she was suspended in midair. The min- ister noticed her undignified position and thundered to his congregation: "Any person who turns to look will be sticken stone blind." A man whispered to his companion: "I'm going to risk one eye." A wallflower -is a good girl with no place to go wrong! I crept upstairs, my shoes in hand Just as night took wing. And saw my wife, four steps ahead Doing the same damn thing. It takes two to make a marriage- a single girl and an anxious mother. * 4 He: Do you know the secret of popularity? Cute Coed: Yes, but mother said I shouldn't. "How did you find the ladies at the dance?" asked a soph of young freshman just back from his first dance. "Oh, I just opened the door marked "Ladies," answered the frosh, "and there they were." The vast difference between a horse race and a political race is that in a horse race the entire horse runs. * * DEFINITION: Clergyman-A man who works to beat Hell. EVER-EAT CAFE MINI-CHOOR GOLF Welcome Back Campus Snack Neukomm's The Boy Who Once a boy made lots of money. He made lots of money. Then he went out and found a girl. What happened wasn't funny. He threw his money away on this girl. Soon all his money had flown. Then the girl flew the coop. The boy was all up in the air about this. He came down much smarter. The next time he would make lots more money- Lots and lots and lots and lots of it. Dean's Town & Country Shop DORN- CLONEY PICK UP... (Continued from page 14) through the dancing forms, squirming sideways to pass them. He sat down at a table with a blonde. She turned on a smile. They talked for a while. The dancers danced by them. A waiter stopped at their table once or twice, but they weren't drinking. Then she stopped smiling and looked off into the smoke as if she were listening to an old story. She looked tired again. They got up and went out. The band was loud. Outside it was cool and quiet. Hope I've got enough gas. Boy, she sure looks bad in that blue light. And she's sober too. They usually are. Too smart to drink, too dumb not to. This air feels good. I suppose she's wondering what's coming; where I'm taking her. She never asked. Just opened the door and climbed in. Doesn't even know my name. Never asked because it doesn't matter. Last night it was Sam-or Dave. The names don't matter. I wish she'd say something instead of just sitting there. It was dark inside the car. The light from the dashboard made dim shadows on their faces. It put points of fire in his eyes and shaded the hollows of her cheeks. She asked him for a cigar- ette and then lighted two after she found them in the glove compartment where he pointed. He threw the one she handed him out the window, lighted one of his own. There was no talk, only the hum of the tires on the concrete highway. She reached over and turned on the radio. Some stations were signing off with the national anthem. She turned it off. "Don't turn that off," he said. "Why not? It's lousy." "Turn it on." "0. K., big, strong man." There was a laugh in her tone. The national anthem was still on. She started turning the dial. "Leave it alone!" "You don't want to hear that crap?" "Yeah, I do. I'm square like a block of ivory." There was a silence. The station was off the air. There was only the sound of the tires. 28 "You know, you're funny," she said, stubbing out the cigarette in the ash tray. "What do you mean?" "You're different. You're not like the others." The word had slipped out. He only laughed. The lights of a drive-in flashed by on the right. "You hungry?" he asked, stopping the car. She looked at him. "How did you know?" There was no laugh in her tone. He turned around and pulled into the drive-in. They ate hamburgers, French fries, and drank cokes. She was hungry and ate fast He watched her and she caught him. "What do you want?" she asked. "Where do you live?" "On Fourth Street-way down." The dull, tired look came back into her.eyes. He drove her home. There was no talk on the way. When they got there, he reached over and opened the door on her side. "Goodnight," he said. "Aren't you coming in?" "You need the sleep." She looked at him like the out-of- towners stare at the buildings. "Why did you do this?" "None of your damn business. Go to bed." "Are you going to tell me your name?" "What difference will that make?" He was looking straight ahead through the windshield. "What is your name?" "It's not a common one." He told her his name. "Now go to bed." She thought for a moment. "You had a sister, didn't you?" He didn't answer. "I knew her. She used to work the Bluebird." She got out and closed the door. He drove away. THE END Susie Stephens by Nicki "Are you sure I was pinned to you last Spring?" Hubby wandered in at 3:00 A. M. after a glorious evening. In a few min- utes a series of unearthly squawks howled out of the radio loudspeaker. His wife looked into the room and discovered him twisting the dial back and forth frantically. "For heaven's sake! What in the world are you triyng to do?" she ex- claimed. "G'way! G'way!; don't bother me," he yelled. "Someone's locked in the safe and I've forgotten the com- binashun!" The farmer whose pig was killed by an automobile was cussing and raving wildly. "Don't worry," said the motorist, trying to pacify the bereaved owner, "I'll replace your pig." "You can't," shouted the farmer, "you ain't fat enough." "Believe me darling, you're the first girl I've ever loved," said he as he shifted gears with his feet. He was a happily married man on a buying trip. A beautiful blonde in the hotel lobby cast the come-hither eye on him and the man was only hu- man. A few weeks later a hard look- ing guy with a big bulge in his right- hand coat pocket entered his office. Talking through his lips, the hard- looker said: "Bud, about the weekend you spent wid me goil friend. It happens we gotta few pictures of the two of you in the hotel." He spread the pictures on the man's desk. The man looked them over and compromising they were. The hard guy stood back to see what effect his display would have on the business man. And the business man said: "Wonderful!! Beautiful! Simply beautiful! I'll take three each of the first five and I want a dozen of the last one!" Chesterfield Cigarettes The Hut Brown Derby Columbia Electric Shop See Your Advisor Twice a Year by Carle I. Shapiro "Have you ever taken Literature of Russia?" "No, sir. "Well, I suggest that you do. It's a good course." "But, I don't care to take any more literature courses. I've already taken three." "Well now, you don't have to take Literature of Russia, 'although an elementary knowledge of Russian writ- ing would increase your understanding of a little-known phase of European culture. Nevertheless, you also can take General Literature, Elizabethan Literature, World Literature, American Literature, or American Literature of the West," "But, sir, I'm a journalism major!" "If you've made up your mind, far be it from me to tell you what courses to take." "Thank you, sir. Now, would you please approve my trial program?" "I must confess that your trial schedule looks correct to me, but I notice that you have no history course. How about History of France? That's a nice course." "I don't think so; I've already had fourteen hours of history." "Well, now, it's all up to you to de- cide. However, you shouldn't over- look certain courses in European his- tory. Besides History of France, we can fix you up with splendid courses in The Near East, The Far East, Greek History, Roman History, or Medieval History." "I think not, sir. I've already sat- isfied the history requirements. If you'll just sign my program now . ." "Well, I guess you know what you want. However, before I approve your program, I think you should certainly consider a good course in the physical science department: How about a solid subject like Principles of Geology?" "I've already taken General Botany, sir . ." (Continued on page 32) Gibson's Apparel H.R. Mueller Florist It Didn't Happen Here .ON'T worry, while away frot town You missed not a single thrill: We made no summer headlines And I guess we never will. We nominated no one, Nor caught a single spy; We didn't shock the nation 'Cause we didn't even try. From a third floor Jesse window Not a single teacher leapt: No flying saucers woke us up While other people slept. There weren't any riots, And the circus had no geek: Not a single flood or cyclone Ever livened up the week. We never saw a single strike, Nor Thomas' committee: No mobs nor communists disturbed The dullness of the city. You'll find it as you left it: Quiet, clean and sober. But, we'll turn it into a madhouse Before the week is over. --Gellerman. Lafter Thoughts From the Missourian: Paul Wright Enrolls at M. U. Paul M. Wright, Columbia, has en- rolled as a junior in the school of fine arts for the summer session at the Uni- versity of New Mexico, Albuquerque, N. M. We'll miss you while you're here! * * Farmer Brown had been on a bender in the big city and was suffering from a terrible hangover when he stumbled out at five o'clock to the cow. "You look terrible," said the cow, bluntly. "Those circles under your eyes reach down to your knees." "I know," said the farmer. "And milking you is only the beginning of my troubles. I'll be slaving on the durn farm 'till seven this evening." "Well," volunteered the cow, "I'll help you all I can. You just hold tight and I'll jump up and down." "Gad, I've been draped," cried the strip tease artist when she woke up with her clothes on. "Oh, dear!" she exclaimed. "I've mised you so much!" Then she raised -her revolver and tried again. 31 "I'm taking my vacation in the mountains this year." "I'm sorry, but we're only accepting registration casul- ties at present." SUDDEN SERVICE CLEANERS BENGAL SHOP See Your Advisor Twice a Year . "Well, don't think that I'm forcing you into anything you don't want, but there's some mighty worthwhile knowledge to be gained from a science course. Now, if Principles of Geology doesn't appeal to you, there's also Phy- sical Geology, Structural Geology, Eco- nomic Geology, or Glacial Geology." "Sir, if you just approve my pro- gram . . " "I'll be glad to oblige. Before I do, let me recommend what I sincerely consider to be the ideal course offered today. That is Origins of Middle Greek Mythology. Incidentally, it of- fers three hours credit for two hours of classroom work." "But I've never even heard of that course!" "Well now, no term paper is re- quired . . ." "No." ". . .and there's no outside reading or assigned class text . . ." "No. No!" ". . and no exams whatsoever are given in the course . . ." "NO! NO! NO!" ". and, furthermore, I teach the course." THE END Watch the Tigers . (Continued from page.17) last year's all conference tackle, and Dick Scholfield, a smart and rugged block specialist. The end positions will count plenty in the workings of this year's Faurot- styled Tigers. If the air alternative conks out, the effective lead of this team designed for high score (don't worry about the defense) disappears. Thank goodness a three-year crop of ends is ripe for the job. To stick to our list we'll mention Mel Sheehan, who's top man anyway, having won Big Six honors last year, and Rollie Oakes, who won the same the year before. Looking at the Tiger prospects form the other point of view-the have-nots -we see that Kansas has indeed lost All-American Ray Evans. But 18 other Jayhawk lettermen will be back. Oklahoma claims it lost nearly a full team. A live-wire bunch of sopho- mores eager to make a name for them- selves could be a Sooner ace-in-the- hole. Nebraska is called "a possible darkhorse" because of its fast-ripening team. But neither Kansas nor Nebraska should be too much trouble. The real deciding battle will be fought on November 6 at Norman, Oklahoma. The Tigers get the concession of being better than the Sooners. The only thing to stop them might be, as says Bob Broeg, St. Louis Post-Dispatch, that "Missouri must invade the red clay country . . . and the sad fact is that Missouri hasn't been too success- ful at Norman." Broeg doesn't know that this is a different year at Missouri. This is the year that undergrads sing "Hail Mis- souri" at the Stable. And, sure as Jesse Wrench has whiskers, this is the year that Tigers will see the Orange Bowl again. Frozen Gold Ice Cream MISSOURI TELEPHONE COMPANY Where the Tigers Got Their Name by Diana Pattison .OR many years, Missouri's athle- tic teams have been known across the nation as the "Tigers." Mizzou stu- dents have chanted "Yeah, Tigers," to their teams for a long time, yet most of the students have never known whence came the name. Was it only a fond nickname? Was it bestowed to denote the power and ferocity of the legendary jungle cat?? Was Boone County once the habitat of the striped beasts? No. The origin of the name Tigers can authentically be established and the legend dates back to Civil War days. Here's the story along with some of the background of those early M. U. days. In March, 1862, Federal troops en- tered the University, but not as stu- dents. The soldiers pitched their tents on the campus, turned the first two floors of the old administration build- ing (the one that burned, leaving the columns) into barracks, and reserved the third floor and cupola as a place for Confederate prisoners. The distracted students attended classes literally at gun point, gingerly studying Latin and Greek between blue uniforms and bugle calls. From Wash- ington came word that the University faculty must take an oath of allegiance to the United States or resign. The faculty suddenly decreased from little to almost nothing. Finally, the Board of Curators gave in to circumstances arid declared M. U. closed. The students drifted into both 34 armies . North and South. Colum- bia itself lived and fought under three flags: the Stars and Stripes, the Border States Flag, and the Stars and Bars. It was a bitterly divided community. Oden Guitar, one of Columbia's city fathers, suggested a plan of action that would enable the citizens to remain loyal to both state and Union. But fiery-haired, fiery-tempered President Shannon of the University branded the plan "lurking treason to the South," and it was abandoned. Before long some of the students who had joined the Confederate Army found themselves back at M. U.-on the third floor of the administration building, ninus their books, and as prisoners of war. But one early spring evening in 1865 James Rollins, later the father of the University (he's the gentleman whose bronze bust confronts you as you enter the library), saw a light in the cupola of the administration build- ing as he looked from his window. It was a signal of peace, and Rollins termed it a "beacon of hope and an omen of good things." The war was over, but Boone Coun- ty was roamed by guerillas, horse thieves, left-over bushwhackers, and lawless raiders who had once fought for North or South but were now out "Who said I drink like a fish?" for mere plunder. The safety of citizens and students was so much in jeopardy that home defense became more impor- tant than any hang-over hatreds of war. Aroused students and Columbians met one night on the Courthouse lawn to decide what to do about the situa- tion, James Rollins, who had escaped from a band of robbers with his life but without his pocketbook, had only to tell his story. The group dug into their own pockets and produced $4,000 for carbines and repeating rifles. They armed every able-bodied man in Co- lumbia. The defenders decided that unity and organization would be abetted if they gave themselves a name that would strike fear in the hearts of their enemies, and courage in the hearts of those they protected. So it came to pass that the imposing title of "Boone County Tigers" distinguished this de- termined little group as the preservers of the community's security. And after several encounters with the mar- auders, the "Tigers" triumphed, and Columbia and vicinity was safe at last. Years later, when the growing Uni- versity first produced a football team, the name "Tigers" was adopted in hopes that the same aggressive quality that once characterized the heroes of Boone County would appear in the team. And for over half a century, those Tigers have growled along in the noble tradition set by their courageous namesakes. THE END The Pen Point Woolf Brothers GOLDEN CAMPUS Barth's Fable of the Poet . Once upon a time, in the far off land of Connectiput, on a cold winter night-'twas St. Agnes Eve, to be ex- act-if any of the good people of Til- bury town had been looking out their windows they might have seen Dr. Meyers, the antique village physician, speeding his antique mare recklessly along the sleet-glazed streets. The doctor pulled hard on the reigns in front of the house of Richard Cory and the rig skidded to a halt. The lower floor of the house was ablaze with lights, while upstairs there was only one small light burning in the big corner room. Gasping for breath, Doc Meyers rushed to the door. He was hurried in, and in a moment, more lights went on in the upstairs room and the shade was drawn. The figure of Richard Cory could be seen pacing up and down. Suddenly, from the upper floor, there was the'cry of a new-born baby. Now, if there had been any person around with-a sufficient back- ground in literature, he would have noticed at once that this was not the cry of an ordinary child. The Cory child was crying in iambic hexameter! Richard Cory, the village smithy and father of three, never once sus- pected the talent that was within his latest child. Lochinvar Cory, as they named him, was a poet from the very moment of his birth. The first two years of his life were years of frustration for the Poet. As he lay squirming in his crib, watching segments of life pass by," seeing new "I don't care if you are in Business School, you'll sit at your desk like any other student." sights every day, feeling new thrills, and having nothing to do but meditate, he yearned to put it all into poetry. But he could not. His mother would never let him near such a dangerous thing as a sharp pencil, much less a typewriter. And the poor little tyke couldn't recite the things that were going on in his head because his im- mature vocal cords could no nothing more than give out with wild, high- pitched, monosylabic screams. When he was two, the Poet felt that his voice mechanisms were suf- ficiently matured to enable him to speak. But when he tried, he realized, much to his chagrin, that he didn't know any words. Thus, he was forced to spend an- other six months of silence. Six months of gruelling work. On the sly, he had secreted a dictionary into his room, where he kept it hidden in the chandelier. At night, when every- one else was abed, he would lie in his crib and study the dictionary by the light of two luminous eyes on a shaggy, stuffed rabbit. He was very careful that no one should find him out, for he wanted to surprise every- one. It was hard going, though. And it was slow. Sometimes the Poet's eyes would ache something terrible, but he plugged on. And the day came when he was ready. On The Day, he waited until eve- ning when he knew his father would be comfortably seated in the bulging easy chair, reading the evening paper. The Poet toddled into the living room and stood by his father's elbow. Then, in a high-pitched voice that had a slight trace of a lisp, he said, "Father, listen to this. I wrote it myself. 'Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet. . .' " The line was later pirated by a man named Kipling. (Continued on page 40) ROBERTS & GREEN HARDWARE ESSER DRUG STORE Girl of the Month. Photograph by Gibbons Griffin at lulie's MARTHA ALEXANDER Senior in Journalism . . . Vice-President of Mortar Board . . S.G.A. Senior representative . . . Publicity chairman, A.W.S. . . . Rush chairman, Alpha Chi Omega . . . Theta Sigma Phi. . . Women's Pan Hellenic Council . . . K.E.A. S. 1948 Savitar. 20 . Bethesda, Maryland. Boy of the Month. ROBERT S. TATUM Senior in Journalism . . . Editor of the Missouri Student . . . Editor of 1948 Savitar . . . Business Manager of 1946 Savitar. . Sigma Delta Chi . . Omicron Delta Kappa . . Q.E.B.H. . . . Campus Publications Association . Sigma Chi . . . Kansas City Star . . . Corpus Christi Caller-Times . . . Born San Antonio, Texas, in 1927 . Home: Kansas City. 39 Nu-Joy Sandwich Shop Suzanne's Fable of the Poet. (Continued from page 37) It was several moments before Father Cory could bring himself to speak, but once he did, the entire literary world was listening. At first, the newspapers were skeptical and con- sidered the story a haox, but once they realized that it was not, two-and-a- half-year-old Lochinvar Cory was an international sensation, the talk of five continents. LIFE magazine devoted an entire issue to him. The New York Times went overboard and ran a there- column feature article on him. His home became a shrine where the great and not-so-great flocked to pay hom- age. Curious tourists, people with long hair and cigarette holders-all kinds flocked to the humble house to see the place where the Poet was born. Every scrap of poetry that he wrote was pounced upon and immediately pub- lished in fifteen languages, including Esperanto. Lochinvar was so poetical that even his everyday conversation was spoken in verse. For example: "I want a nickle for the thing of my dreams: a great big stick of ice creams." Or, "Since wooden things can not go, where, oh where, is my Yo-Yo?" As the Poet grew, his work became better and better. All day he would wander around observing the wonders of the world and whenever he saw something that he had never seen be- fore, he would sit down and write a poem about it. Sonnets were childs play for him, and if he wanted to put in a little real work, he could easily dash off a two hundred page epic in about thirteen days. As the Poet grew, his work con- tinued to attract the same world-wide (Continued on page 42) "Why, yes, I just happened to have a very nice basemenet room." FLASH FLOOD Evan Jarvis There is love that is heat, like i working of yes i and he flame- less combustion of bay at lbe bot- tow of the stack. It is primal, it comes in the sprig with the vrsges of the earth; it sweals and throbs and blinds and torments and fights for its life like a wild weed in a pasture.? JOHNNY, Johnny, I want you to Oh God, she new it was though, She knew it was because| she felt it that way and no other way and if this had been love, there were a lot of peo- ple getting eheated out of what the poets said was love in those poems they wrote. And she knew what he'd say anyway because he'd said it before like. some others had said it and kept right on rubbing his hot -hands over her body in the thin dress and telling her he loved her because what the hell else could he say? And anyway, even though she knew he didn't mean it, she was always glad when he said it, not because she ever believed him,-,but be- causeif e didn't say it sed have to tell him to take his hands off her flesh and that wasn't what she wanted---oh, Christ no, but she wasn't sure why. "Of course it hasn't been sex, darl- ing. We love each other really truly, Oh, I know, but it meant more than that to me. Honest it did. You knew that, didn't you?". An he kept right on looking at where she plucked her eyebrows where and while he.spoket.he.words and b. been enough. He hadn't always said thern to her, but this spring it had been her and they had.been enough and now spring was almost over and college was almost over for this year and there would be exams and trunk packing and trains and goodbyes and memories of words that had been enough; words that had been a master key, words. that he really hoped he wasn't dirtying for future use but words he wasn't sorry he'd used eiicept if she really be liiiievd t:em which he was afraid she might. Funny, he thought', how he'd gone into this so wide awake and h come out the same way with no dizzy- ness of regret and only thebsatisfaction that the words had again been enough and she had been good and worth them. "And Johnny, we'll write this sum- mer, won't we? Well write often and: that way we can talk to each other and: tell e ach other, things like always, won't we Johnny?" "Yeah. Yeah, sure we'll write." And in June, about the tenth, she wrote, my darling, my sweet Johnny: I miss you so terribly... sometinmes I love...that I must run to you, take go and those wonderful, wonderful afternoons in the country with. youl We'll do that again, won't we Johnny? In September we'll go there again right to the same spot again . all my love forever . your girl-all f m e . . . . . And to all of her he answered ene day, my dearest: I know how you feel because I do too . . .bt |||||"|- : . :: .i|; l il| |||||||||7, ||||.7 7^ somewhovr wait 'till September of course, I miss you! Why do you ask such a foolish. and so it's a pretty good job for the summer any- way ,. all my love to my babyface With the bunting and the bands and the firecrackers of the Fourth she wrote, my dear: I have the strangest thing to tell you, hon, you remenm- ber Randy? The big tall one from Texas that sat next to me in English lit? He called me up yesterday and we went out oh, it was just crazy fun and he sagentleman, Johnny, everytlinglil.rli'll bellong now until .ade me think of school again. And he wrote in an August letter, written in a hurry. that August made him think of school too and Septem- ber wasn't ftr off,.which it wasn't, and then| he had | be areful toý get the right letter in the right envelope because what the hell, you had to be careful with dames. a| d when he saw her, he looked againat where she plucked ler :and they saidthe words andtried so promised in June and it all went. as it was supposed to, like turning on your- headlights in the sunlight. Every- thing worked fine, but the heat was The heat, like the workg of yeast, gone with the irges of the arti ; goeii |i lo eed like a wild, .il .ll .t .ii.r i |||||||||c|||||||||^^ DOWNTOWN LIQUORS MISSOURI STORE COMPANY Fable of the Poet . (Cdntinued from page 40) attention that it had when we was a mere toddler. Critics praised him as the greatest thing in literature since the invention of the alphabet. At the age of eight, he won his first Pulitzer Prize with his "ode to a Ruptured Longshoreman." The years passed, and the Poet grew into manhood. Still the flow came. Wherever he went, whatever he did, whatever he saw-he composed verse about it. His work was so pop- ular, so much in demand, that his pub- lishers even printed volumes of his conversatioh, which-as you know- were spoken in verse. The Poet travelled far and wide the world over, and wherever he-went, he was idolized by the public and sought after by kings. As the years passed, he became fabulously rich. His books always topped the best-seller lists. Thus it went until one day when the Poet was fifty years old and the world realized that a whole month had gone by and he had not written .4 single line of poetry. The anxious, adoring world was agog. It was the topic of everyone's conversation. Newspapers and magazines spread their pages with speculation. The Poet's publishers knew nothing, except that he was at his, retreat in Florida. Fearing the worst, his friends and dignitaries from all walks of life rushed to his tiny island just north of Key West. Daniel Deever, a senior editor of TIME, was the first to reach him. He found the Poet sitting in his study. The floor was littered with books. An area around the wastebasket was cov- ered with crumbled sheets of paper. The Poet was tired and disheveled. He looked as if his world had come to an end. When Deever walked in the door, he just looked up at him stupidly with tired, bloodshot eyes. His voice was hoarse. "Dear Deever, grieve me not. As you can see, I'm all shot. There once was a time, now come full of its end, when I thought only in rhyme. I sup- pose most folks will call me a hoax. My career is at a close. But alas and alack, my good firend, now I can think but in prose." And so the Fable of the Poet is told in Tilbury town in the far off land of Connectiput. THE END Two men were working on the White House lawn, each supplied with a small push cart upon which was a garbage can. They walked about pick- ing up papers with a long spear. One spied a piece of toilet paper and started to spear it, when suddenly a gust of wind came up and blew the paper into the White House through an open window. The man became frantic and rushed into the building. He returned short- ly after and said: "I was too late. He had already signed it." *- * Batty Prof: What did Mark An- thony say to Cleopatra when he dis- covered there were no bathrooms in the palace? Wise Stoodent: Why Cleo, this place is uncanny! * * Cutie (pouring a drink for the boy friend): "Say when." Beau: "Any time after the first drink is alright with me." * * A burlesque show is where all the actresses believe that all the male audi- ence are from Missouri. * * Some women want to experience love, others want to love experience! A young co-ed spent her vacation attending summer school here in Co- lumbia. One warm, sleepy Sunday she wandered down to the Hinkson. There she found a delightfully secluded spot, and being warm from her walk, de- cided to take a plunge. Afterwards, she leaned back upon the soft, mossy RADIO ELECTRIC The Novus Shop KAMPUSTOWNE GROCER MERKLE MOTOR CO. In the Ozarks, where water is used only for washing feet and running under bridges, strange ideas prevail as to just what intoxication really is. In a village one Sunday, a man lay in the middle of the street in the broiling sun. "He's drunk, I'd better lock him up," the sheriff said, sympathetically. "No, he ain't drunk," a woman interrupted, "I just seen his fingers move!" - * The car was crowded and the con- ductor was irritable. "Where's the fare for the boy?" he snaped as the father handed him one fare. "The boy is only three years old." "Three years old! Why look at him! He's seven if he's a day." The father looked and gazed intent- ly into the boy's face. Then turning to the conductor, he said, "Can I help it if he worries?" bank to dry herself. Suddenly she heard a noise and although startled, thought it must be a little boy fish- ing. She called: "How old are you, little boy?" A voice replied: "Ninety-six, dammit." Guest (to host in new home): "Well, old boy, how do you find it here?" Host: "Walk right up the stairs, and it's two doors to the left." The young couple stopped to read the sign at the front door of a marry- ing justice of the peace. It said: "You furnish the bride-we'll do the rest." Bashful groom: "That's hardly fair." Rowe's Crow's Nest I am devoting this first column to new students on the campus. There are certain things that the new student should know and which I, as a senior . . again, should tell them. First, study hard; and second, strap yourself down on the floor before drinking pur- ple passion. Purple passion is a drink (I use the term loosely) which is used only at Mizzou and in psychiatric wards. It is made with the finest fruit juices, the finest ice, the finest buckets, the cleanest socks, and the worst grain al- cohol. It has varying effects on peo- ple. At the last purple passion party I attended, a young lady (one of the great unwashed who didn't strap her- self down) took three drinks and then came in second behind a P-80 at the Cleveland Air Races. Another thing you new students must learn is not to be taken in by the local sharpies. There is a group standing near the tower who are out to get you. They will call you over very slyly and in a quiet and confidential manner will say, "Listen Jack, see these plans we have? They're for the new Student Union. Listen, Jack, this building will be finished in ten years, see?" This group is trying to demoral- ize the students on the campus so they will go to K. U. Don't believe them. That Union will not only not be fin- ished in ten years, but the smart money boys are saying it won't be finished in 1990. Mr. Blandings may have built his dream house, but the University of Missouri will never build that Student Union! Next, you newcomers should know of a place called the Hinkson. The Hinkson is used for many, many pur- poses-among them field trips by the geology department. That use, of course, is like using a bottle of cham- pagne to crack on the prow of a ship. If you girls are ever approached to go out to the Hinkson on a field trip, make sure it is not sponsored by the geology department and you'll enjoy yourself. It's nice there. Nothing but beer bottles and beer cans flow down the river. Matter of fact, it's the river that made Milwaukee famous. Then, there is the proper method of attending a football game. The very first thing for you to do is to try and get a seat right down in front on the 50-yard line. When you've done that, write Ripley, quit school, and settle down to just winning radio contests. After you get your seat on the 50-yard line, don't face the gridiron. Get one of those adjustable chairs, turn it around, and face the crowd. Now, wait until the game is about to begin and then go into your act. Of course, you haven't been at Mizzou long enough to know many people, but don't let that stop you. When the whistle blows, pop out of your seat facing the crowd and yell, "Hey Bob; Hey, Sue." These words are magic as there are more Bob's and Sues at this University than F's in a chemistry course. You don't have to know any- one-just yell. This will help you to become quite popular around the cam- pus and you will soon be pointed out as" . . . that $%/oe we saw at the game." Now, about the proper attire for a football game: I don't try to set myself up as an authority on dress, but one thing that Esquire and Vogue left out for students to wear at foot- ball games was a bottle of whiskey. At other schools they play football games in quarters, but at Mizzou they play them by fifths. The way to tell whether you are in the right spirit to observe the games is to look at the field. If you can see twenty-two in- dividual players, take a shot. Got it? "I think these Econ classes are getting out of hand." 45 White House EDDIES MENS TOGGERY All right, take another shot. Now take a look. What do you see? Two huge players with the numbers 678888 991234455011 on their backs? Fine! Now watch the game. You should know something about eating places too. Of course, I want you to know that I hope your mother gave you a good meal before you came here. Before entering a restaurant, check and see if there is a sign in the window saying, "Approved by S.G.A." If there is one, go in. Now, if the meal is lousy, go straight to S.G.A. headquarters, get a gross of those signs, put catsup on them and eat heartily. You'll get more calories that way. Oh, there are many other things you'll need to know, like using Morse Code in quizzes where the professor is hard of hearing; how to stay off the black-list at Stephens College by chewing Mum; where to find ready- made term papers iri the library stacks; how to balance yourself on the back of a convertible during parades; and how to translate The Basic Principles of Economics into English. In closing, I want you to remember this. A college education is something they just can't take away from you. And, brother, when you've got some- thing that the income tax department can't take away, you've really got something. THE END The New Dixie Missouri Showme CONTRIBUTORS Diana Pattison Photograph by Julie's Studio Showme's new Feature Editor and proud daughter of Texas is Diana Lee Pattison, a senior in the School of Journalism. Tall, (5 feet 8'/2 inches) brunette, and uninhibited, Diana now begins her second year on the staff, and her third at Mizzou. Born in Chicago twenty years ago, "Monster" now calls San Antonio home. She is a member of Delta Delta Delta social sorority, the Missouri Workshop, and Student Government Association. Last year, when S. G. A. athletic committee needed the words to the second verse of the Missouri Waltz, it was Diana who called the White House to ask Missouri's first son if he could help. He couldn't. On page 30 Diana tells you "Where the Tigers Got Their Name" and ad- mits she didn't know herself until she disturbed the dusty files of Mis- souriana to find out. "If you've got any ideas for Showme features," says Diana, "come up and see me." Her telephone number: 7302. What more do you want, guys? Evan Jarvis A senior in the School of Journalism, Evan Jarvis says he tore Flash Flood from a page of life. A man of many interests, Evan contributed his story to us via the mails this summer. He has returned to M. U. after a three year tour in the Navy, during which he says he never saw the water, but met a lot of nice people. His vignette of two college "lovers" left us with the feeling, "It could have happened here." 48 Jon Lyle "Pick-up-Gently" is Jon Lyle's first story to appear in Showme, but not his first to appear in print. He's been writing since he was fifteen, he tells us. A junior in Arts and Science, Jon plans for a career as an author. He has a good start. "Pick up . . ." was written on the spur of an idle hour, says Jon; it's characters are vapours of real life. "There is some good in everybody," he concludes; "it just has to fight it's way out sometimes." Like a wandering Arab, Jon is re- luctant to name his home town. Born in Ohio, educated in Eastern prep schools, and ripened in the Missouri sun, he has held down a variety of jobs that is notable for his 25 years. "'I've been a hod carrier, a student, a disc jockey, a bartender-and once I was an assistant to a seal trainer." You'll be seeing more of Jon's work in Showme. If photography is your business or your hobby, Showme offers you a chance to get your work in print. We offer staff photographers dark room and expenses. For further in- formation, call Photo Editor John Trimble at 7511. Pat Bauman Blonde Pat from Webster Groves, Missouri, put her artistic talents to work this summer and turned out car- toons and spots for this issue. These are not her first work to appear in Showme, however; her first cartoon appeared last May. Pat is a Junior, majoring in art. Her extra-curricular activities include the University Chorus, and Savitar. Favorite sport: golf. Address. Kappa Alpha Theta house. Richard Sanders Associate Editor Dick Sanders de- cided early in the summer that M. U. -students didn't know enough about President Middlebush. In fact, he says he didn't himself. The result of his curiosity is "The Middlebush Story" in this issue. Dick is a junior in the School of Journalism, majoring in Special Writ- ing. He was born in Chicago in 1926, is now attending M. U. for the third year and spending his second year on the Showme staff. He is a member of Kappa Sigma and Campus Publica- tions Association. "Bitter," as his friends nickname him, is a vital cog to Showme. All copy appears in the magazine subject to his approval, and page make-up is his special and favorite duty. Photograph by Julie's Studio Announcing for the first time The MISSOURI BAND SERVICE Handling everything from local to name bands Direct contact with major booking agencies RUSS CHAMBERS and his Missourians. Campus favorites for the past five years. A 12-piece band. Call 9942. EDDIE SIGOLOFF and his orchestra. "Music styled for dancing". 10 men with a vocalist. Call 9574 or 5440. GENE BECKMAN and his orchestra. Popular on campus for past two years. Gene features Glenn Miller styling. 12 Men. Call 7172. PAUL CHERCHES and his orchestra. Their reputation speaks for itself. 10 men with vo- calist. Call 5274. These four top leaders have banded together to bring you the best in dance music. Call any one of these men. They can book any band for your formal or informal dances. CENTRAL OFFICE: EDDIE'S TOGGERY, 225 SOUTH NINTH Chesterfield Cigarettes