Showme December, 1960 Showme December, 1960 2008 1960/12 image/jpeg University of Missouri Special Collections, Archives and Rare Book Division 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 show196012

Showme December, 1960; by Students of the University of Missouri Columbia, MO 1960

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Showme In this Issue: Famous Persons Send Their Christmas Cards Dec. 60 Hunt's Prescription Drug Store, Inc. Merry Christmas "Showme" Staff Co-Editors-Marion Ellis and Dale Allen Art Director-Joe Jahraus Cartoon Editor-W. W. Overby Copy Editor-Ellen Welch Joke Editor-Jim Morris Exchange Editor-Gerry Naes Business Manager-Dick James Asst. Business Manager-Bruce Smith Advertising Manager-Sandy McMillan Circulation-Promotion-Larry Fuller .Production Manager-Charlie Doud Production Assistant-Judy Isaacs Cartoonists-Eric Johnson, Larry Bloyd, Al Addington, Bob Rite- nour, Mike Miner, William Zander, Matt Flynn, Ron Powers, Jim Morris Writers-Mark Falcoff, Narvie Straunch, Etaoin Shrdlu, Larry Roth, Joe Abrams, Pete Inserra, Betsey Transou Advertising Salesmen-Diza Pepper, Elaine Alberter, Bill Crabtree, Murl Kelley, Sandra Rossman Business Staff--Sandy Lentz, Lucia Williams Circulation-Promotion-Carol Vest, sorority sales manager; Bob Irvin, fraternity sales manager; Ernie Urech, independent sales man- ager; Ralph Herring, Joe Diven, Jim Reiter, Jamie Mathews The Missouri Showme is an official publication of the student body of the University of Missouri, published eight times during the school year (if we're lucky). Address all correspondence to: Missouri Showme, Read Hall, Univ. of Mo., Columbia, Missouri. Unsolicited manuscripts will not be returned unless accompanied by a self-addressed, stamped enve- lope. Ad rates furnished on request. National advertising representa- tives: College Magazines Corp., 405 Lexington Ave., New York 17, N.Y. Any material may be reprinted in whole or in part with the writ- ten permission of the editor. Printed by Modern Litho-Print Co., Jefferson City, Missouri. Christmas. . snow . . . presents . . . happy people . . high spirits (about $8.50 a fifth) . . . Santy Claws . . . empty Columbiatown . . hurrah . 2 SHOWME, DECEMBER, 1960 Around the Columns A chubby little man slams the door at the Stein Club, shakes the snow off and vaults onto a stool. "How's business, pop?" the jo- vial bartender asks. "Getting many contributions?" The little man nods affirmative- ly and sips his beer. "What do you want for Christ- mas?" he asks the bartender. "Oh, I dunno. I was thinking about a new Caddy or maybe a new house. Some little thing," he chuckles. "You shall get them both," the little man replied. Then laying a finger to his nose, "Damn cold," he mutters and stomps out of the door. "Nice old guy," a customer re- marks. "Yeah," the bartender muses. "Hey, the nerve of that guy he didn't even pay for his beer." AH, CHRISTMAS IN COLUMBIA Oh, the campus cop he is my friend. He has much friendly advice to lend. He's helpful and bright and real- ly a pip. So what if he acts pretty much like a whip. I.D., BUDDY "Let me see your I.D., buddy" are familiar friendly words around the Campi lately and you just have to stop and admire those helpful campus personnel for their flawless diction, if nothing else. Just think of the years of train- SHOWME, DECEMBER, 1960 ing in speech and voice the cam- pus cops, watchmen and the card- punchers must have been subjected to. You know the benevolent cam- pus cop just hates to ask you for your I.D., but when he is forced to he asks in a nice friendly man- ner that really makes you take your hat off to him. For instance there's the story about the guy who parked his car in the Jesse driveway to run in for a minute. When he return- ed there was a friendly campus cop waiting for him. The friend- ly cop raised a gloved hand in welcome and smil- ed his greeting. The student felt this glow of companionship but was in such a hurry that he couldn't take advantage of it. "God morning, sir," the student said with an air of levity. "This your car, buddy?" the green-and-brown-clothed messenger of maternal-like love grunted. "Yes, sir," the student replied weakly. "What's it doing here," was the retort as the guardian-of-our-rights- and-duties slammed his fist down on the fender and winced with pain. "Well, I . . . "Lemme see your I.D." He grabbed for the extended billfold. "Dis don't look like you in dis here pichur." "Well, sir, I can't help that. I . . " "Let's go see about dis," the friendly cop said, placing a friend- ly arm around the student's scraw- ny shoulders. The car was cleverly left in the driveway so the evi- dence would be in plain sight from the Jesse Hall coffee shop window. COORDINATION I hate to drag up old grudges with certain members of the card- punching and square-filling-in corps of University personnel, but I offer this experience as an ex- ample of perfect coordination. At pre-registration last spring I encountered this friendly face at Table No. 1. "Hello, do you wish to pre-reg- ister?" Friendly-Face smiled so- rority-girlishly. Turn to Next Page 3 Around The Columns. From Page 3 "No, I'm here for the annual Sap Day ceremonies," I thought, but just nodded meekly. "Fill out this card and that card and this other card," she indicated with ink-stained hands. Well you know what happened then. I spent about 3 hours, and 45 minutes filling out various vir- tually useless cards which asked what color my mother's hair was when I enrolled originally and if my family ever bought Amana freezers. Then I came to this sheet that said fill in all the names of your courses, course numbers, the times they met and the places. Seeing this, 1 limped painfully back to Friendly-Face tenderly holding my cramped arm. "Say, do I have to fill this sheet out? I al- ready have a list of all this stuff," I whined. "Well, you'd better fill it out anyway. You see this is a new thing they're trying this year and they're very anxious to see how it comes out and . . ." That was enough for me. I turned back to the convenient writing tables with their conven- ient pens and ink and painstak- ingly scratched the other informa- tion in on the sheet. After struggling through the re- 4 Editor's Ego Christmas sure is a merry thing, what with all the fermented candy canes and wooly worms surround- ing the light poles in downtown Columbia. Those canes are the kind my mother used to slap my hands for, when I wanted to eat them after they'd been in the can- dy bowl for six months. And the annual blight of wooly maining mickey mouse, including the little man who makes sure you've got your name spelled right or something or other, I made it to this table where they took part of my money. At the next table they took some more of my money and a few of my cards. At the next table they took a few more cards and just a little more money (they probably knew I didn't have much left. I couldn't have had much left.) I reeled drunkenly to the last table which by this time was bob- bing up and down like a mirage. Here a friendly card-taker ripped all but one of the remaining forms from my hand and started work- ing them over intensely. Without looking up she shoved a few torn stubs into my hands and squeaked, "That's all." "Wait a minute," I protested, "What about this form, this one with all my courses and stuff on it?" "You keep that one," she leered. "But I've already got a copy of my courses and junk." "Well, throw it away then," she said. Ah, yes, I should take my hat off to the friendly campus person- nel. Too bad I never could afford one. - M.A.E. worms has begun. All of those fuzzy little creatures weave them- selves around the light poles like some sort of crazy lichen on a tree, then the townspeople call them "pretty Christmas decorations." HORNS FOR THE HORNY With SHOWME making its debut on campus here, we've almost forgotten to mention that several hundred copies have been gobbled up by horny engineers at Rolla. Chief staffer there is Terry Mills, an atomic submarine (or I guess he said nuclear physicist) from Joplin. He's been getting a bit of a help- ing hand from the Kappa Sig pledges and actives there, so I guess he has a big hand and a big paddle. The chief sel- ling point there, Terry tells us, is SHOWME brings su- bliminal sex relief. Relax, girls. * * * Incidentally, when they closed the Bengal Shop down a few weeks back, hundreds of J-Schoolers stormed the closed doors trying to save the traditional paintings on the walls. But, alas, it was too late, the painters had covered up all the "Frescoes" by the time the howling clan got there. English majors couldn't figure out what the paintings on the walls were anyway. A few of them even went mad trying to find sex symbols in "Cooper Condensed" and "Gothic Roman" but there just was no third imagistical level. Posterity has all and knows all. So why sweat the small stuff. Two boppers were watching an Indian fakir putting his cobra through n unusual routine. Fasci- nated, one bopper commented, "Man, catch that crazy arrange- ment." The other replied, "Forget the arrangement. Dig that frantic mu- sic stand." Kissing a girl is just like open- ing a bottle of olives-the first may come hard, but it's a cinch to get the rest. SHOWME, DECEMBER, 1960 A Nightmarish Nocturnal Tale. Santa In Columbia? By JOE ABRAMS The wind is bristling through the trees at fifty m.p.h. The tem- perature hovers above ten degrees and a full moon is pelting Colum- bia with its rays. Suddenly a faint noise is heard; it is followed by a loud "Whoa -," then out of the darkness appears jolly old St. Nick. Yes, the bearded little man has decided to visit the Crossroads of America, Columbia, Missouri. Santa comes off 63 and proceeds along Broadway with his many horsepowered, oops . . reindeer- powered sleigh. The first thing to catch his eye is Stephens College. After scanning around for a short time, he pulls out his little red book and writes, "a possible so- lution to the frigid temperature of the North Pole would be 1,000 Susies." The afternoon catches up with him. It seems that he was pretty tired when he reached St. Louis and the only place with large enough accommodations for him and his deer, was the Budweiser warehouse. Due to this, his horny friends were in extra fine spirits when they reached our town. In fact, the deer were so high that one of Columbia's finest gave San- ta a ticket for intoxicated driving. To prove his innocence, Mr. Claus promptly breathed in the officer's face, and upon receiving a negative sign, remarked that the man with the badge looked more like old Santa than Kris Kringle, himself. At about this time, the happy gift-giver feels pangs in his stom- ach and decides to quench his hun- ger at Romanos. Immediately he places the sled in reverse and re- treats to a metered block. After depositing the needed change, he enters Romanos - not by walking down the stairs but by sliding down the bannister. This doesn't phase the other Romanians who are busy either fighting for tables or doing something that resembles SHOWME, DECEMBER, 1960 dancing, although it certainly is not taught by Arthur Murray. The bulky man in the red suit then progresses up Broadway and makes a left at Ninth. His first MU stop is at the home of Dr. Ellis, where he receives a fine dinner which includes a speech on the high points of the University. At this precise moment, Santa is probably the highest of anyone at Mizzou. In appreciation of the president's hospitality, the sleigh driver presents him with a box of toy soldiers for his lawn. Dr. El- lis thanks Santa and leaves him with the remark that he should send some of his people down to MU. The president shakes his head, but Santa cannot determine whether it is vertically, horizon- tally or diagonally. He eases into his sled and heads for the I.V. Here he pauses for a few well-needed nips. Next stop- the girls' dorms. As Kris is riding toward the dorms, he decides to pull up and see what those temporary barracks are for. He gets off his sled and walks around behind the buildings. Within a few minutes, he is rub- bing his eyes in disbelief, "I thought the Swedes were very advanced in this field and that the Americans were comparative prudes, but I guess the Americans just don't like to publicize these things," he says. A shocked Santa then heads in the direction of the so-called pru- dish dorms. For his final visit of the trip he enters through the roof. He does this because he has previously read rule 173689LT, which states that, "no male or anything closely resembling same is prohibited from going above the main floor of the dorms." After viewing some of the specimens living there, the second part of the rule begins to trouble him. But, he does not have much time to waste and therefore heads for the roof. The sled lands gently and Santa wobbles out and onto the stairs leading to the eighth floor. At the landing, he quietly opens the fire door and quickly slips behind a wall, just as two girls, with some sort of goo on their faces and not much else on their bodies, appear in the hallway. Up- on their departure, he ducks into another door and slips inside. The girls who share this room are not particularly surprised and Santa begins to wonder if this is an everyday occurrence. The shorter of the two, asks Santa to help her with an English 21 theme, which is titled, "What I am going to do on my Christmas vacation." St. Nick promises to help in exchange for an elighten- ing beverage. This is promptly placed in his hand before he can say, "Dashaway, dashaway, all." By this time he is really out of it and just then the housemother steps in. The sight of the six-foot, buck-toothed Amazon, r ea 11 y shakes the old guy up. But she surprises him, when she takes him gently by the hand and leads him out of the room in the direction of the roof. On the way up, she gives him a card with the address of the local A.A., of which, she tells him, "I'm a charter member." He gets into his sleigh, says "Mer- ry Christmas," and gallops off the dorm into the sky. Kris gives a hearty "Ho! Ho!" the reindeer go "Hic! Hic!" and again Columbians settle down to another year of happy life with friendly students. Ah, yes, very friendly. Adam: "Eve! You've put my dress suit in the salad again!" 5 Life Savers I THINK HE'S AN ROTC INSTRUCTOR CAMPUS & JAYVEE RECORDS I fought it, Clu, but something drove me on, forced me! Mo Mule Kicks It was intermission at the fra- ternity dance and everyone came inside to rest. Doctor: Why do you have that A-58445 tattooed on your back? Patient: That's not tattooed. That's where my wife ran into me while I was opening the garage doors. John: "Do you know how to tell a happy motorcycle driver?" Joe: "No". John: "By the bugs in his teeth." Apologies. Regrettably half of a joke was omitted from the November is- sue. So, since we're such nice people, here's the other half: "Oh, just a girl I met profes- sionally." "No doubt," meowed his wife, "but whose profession - yours or hers?" The last train had left, the re- sort was overfilled. A man and wo- man were dickering for rooms. "All I can offer you is a double room." "Impossible!" exclaimed both, and the woman sniffed. But since there really weren't any more rooms, they both finally hesitat- ingly agreed. They introduced themselves to each other. The por- ter set up a screen between the two beds and the woman went to bed. Half an hour later the man went to bed. He had just fallen asleep when he heard her call. "Would it disturb you, Mr. Par- ker, if you were to get me a glass of water?" Parker replied, "Would it dis- turb you if you were to play the role of Mrs. Parker tonight?" Short pause: "No." "Then get up and get your own silly glass of water!" The traveling salesman pulled up beside the farmhouse, hopped out of the car, leaped onto the porch, and rang the doorbell. A moment later a beautiful girl with long hair and soft blue eyes an- swered his ring. "Boy, I'll bet you're the farm- er's daughter!" exclaimed the sales- man. "No," said the girl, "I'm his mistress." A musician and a bunch of his buddies where whooping it up late one night when the landlord came in. "Do you know there's a little ole lady sick upstairs?" "No, man," answered the musi- cian, "Hum us a bit of it." What's green all over and got little red wheels? I don't know, what? Grass, I lied about the little red wheels. The Sunday gospel shouter was in great form. "Everything God made is perfect," he preached. A hunchback rose from the rear of the auditorium. "What about me?" "Why," said the preacher, "you're the most perfect hunchback I ever saw." Lamb's If the birds can do it and the bees can do it, then you and mommy . . SHOWME, DECEMBER, 1960 Town & College I HAVE ALWAYS HAD an abiding hatred for the bottom crust of rye bread. There is no particular reason for making this point, except that whenever I think of Fort Lauderdale, I think of rye bread. There is no particular reason for that either, but I have been thinking of Fort Lauderdale. Fort Lauderdale is "where the boys are." Right now, that is. Most of the time, serenity reigns in Fort Lauderdale. (The Chamber of Commerce will hate me; they say it, never rains in Fort Lauderdale.) But, for two weeks, twenty thousand collegians descend on this peaceful community and take it apart, peace by peace. They call it Spring Vacation, but it's more like amateur night at Cape Canaveral. They capture Florida and throw the Keys away. But I shouldn't joke- not while people are holding mass prayer meetings for an early hurri- cane season. This is "where the boys are." And girls, too. Such girls, it makes you dizzy to look at them. If you look long enough, you reach an advanced stage of dizziness called aphro- dizzier. It's like being in love. That's what happened to me, and it will happen to you, too. Everywhere you turn - beaches full of them, motels and hotels full of them, cars full of them, pools full of them, bathing suits full of them. Ah, bathing suits . when the man said, "It's the little things in life that count," he must have been thinking of bathing suits. But mostly, it's the girls. Girls in love, girls in trouble, bright girls with a future, not-so-bright girls with a past, rich girls in the lap of luxury, poor girls in any lap that'll have them, girls of every size and discretion. It isn't any wonder that this is "where the boys are." And the things that happen are wacky and wild and wicked and warmly wonderful "where the boys are." Someone should make a movie about it. Hey, someone did! M-G-M calls it 'Where The Boys Are," starring Dolores Hart, George Hamil- ton, Yvette Mimieux, Jim Hutton, Barbara Nichols, Paula Prentiss, with Frank Gorshin and introducing popu- lar recording star Connie Francis in her first screen role. You'll want to see all the things that happen "Where The Boys Are." Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer presents "WHERE THE BOYS ARE" A Euterpe production in CinemaScope and METROCOLOR. Screenplay by George Wells, based on the novel by Glendon Swarthout. Directed by Henry Levin. Produced by Joe Pasternak. But fellas - why can't I wait 'til preferential like the other guys? ALL RIGHT BUDDY. BREAK IT UP! Mo Mule Kicks It was high moon at the Mosque. The high priest was intoning. "There is no God but God, and Mohammed is his prophet." The congregation turned, among the sea of brown faces was a small yellow face. The priest straightened up and said, "There seems to be a little Confucian here." Most girls attain their ends by not doing enough exercise. A castaway on a desert island, following another shipwreck, pulled ashore a girl clinging to a barrel. "How long have you been here?" the girl asked. "Thirteen years," replied the castaway. "All alone - then you're going to have something you haven't had for thirteen years," the girl said. "You don't mean to tell me there's beer in that barrel!" said he. "Gosh, you have a lovely fig- ure!" "Oh, let's not go all over that again." First son: "Father, I did some- thing awful last night and I need ten thousand dollars or she'll sue." Father: "It's a lot of money, but anything to save the family hon- or." (Writes out check.) Second son: "Father, I got into trouble last night and I need ten thousand dollars or she'll sue." Father: "It's all I've got in the world, but I guess anything is bet- ter than dragging down the family name." (Writes out check.) Daughter: "Father, I did some- thing dreadful last night-" Father: "Ah, now we collect." SHOWME, DECEMBER, 1960 Student Musical The Novus Shop By Ean Graysin A special survey of Show- me gifts for the student who has nothing. Clip this out an send it to your parents so that they may add them to their Christmas list and their in- come tax forms as educational aids. 1. For the young man away from home, a life-size inflatable pol- yethylene pillow molded in the luscious shape of May Britt. A battery-powered warming mechan- ism keeps the resilent curves at a continuous 98.6 degree farenheit. It can also be used to work off one's prejudices. 2. The Engineers dream a Rolla Super Slide Rule. The love- ly mahogany work of art was hand-carved and polished by teams of ex-engineers now in Busi- ness School. The fabulous extras include a pearl-handled ,cigarette lighter which may be lit by pres- sing on "pi" when the sun's rays strike the gold-leaf ball atop Jesse Hall at a 45-degree angle. Also in- cluded is a solid gold, polarized, fluorescent-lit slide magnifier which, enlarges the digits to the size ouble-E Auditorium. Concealed in the butt of the "rule" is an IBM computer to determine your grade point at the end of any Chem Engine 609 1/4 examina- tion and a .45caliber bullet with which you may end it all when you read sults of the com- puter. 3. A new item on the campus is the Liquor Store Credit Card, with which one may charge a case of Black and White scotch to the ac- count of President Ellis, Dean Mat- thews or any other famous per- sonality. The card also attests to the fact that you are the 41-year- old son of Governor Dalton. 4. Something for the girls - a nylon rope ladder which can be concealed in a cigarette case. A thousand-feet long, one can reach the ground from the roof of Dorm C with a little jump. If the ladder itself doesn't work the top rung contains a wad of $1,000 dollar 10 bills to bribe the housemother, the janitor, the PA and the Dean of Women. 5. A gift appreciated by the stu- dent in the under 1.7 grade point category is the robet valet with various detachable plastic heads. Sate your inner desires, satisfy your id by watching President El- lis clean out the commode bowl, or Dean Matthews making your bed - perhaps the head of your ROTC division shining your shoes or just drilling himself around the room. 6. This gift appeals to those who still have a little of the "kid" in them. Be the first in your block to own the kit to convert any chair to an electric chair. Imagine the look of surprise on your room- mate's face as you fry him with 4,000 amps in his bed or the joy of your fellow students as you throw the switch on your instruc- tor just as he says "Now students, take out a piece of paper and a pencil." Comes with an attachment to remove the ashes. 7. This import comes from a group of gypsy electronics scien- tists. It's a revised model of the SHOWME, DECEMBER, 1960 mythical crystal ball designed for students. This gem of artisan craftsmanship accurately predicts when your roommate will make a pass at your girl, when Pinkney Walker will leave for the Orange Bowl, when the liquor inspector's next visit will be and other per- tinent information. 8. Bored with the old trite and true methods of sneaking flasks into football games? This new, model can be ordered in time for the kickoff of the very first game next fall. It's a flask, cleverly dis- guised as a lavalier. Another at- tractive feature - the wearer, crawling on hands and knees, can be sneaked in himself as a team mascot. Also a good way to dis- guise undesirable dates. It's only $3.50 at good liquor stores every- where. 9. For that practical fella on your list - a collapsible Type I Parking Lot sign. It comes in shades of freshly-painted white, weather-beaten gray or blood- stained (from innumerable furious, frustrated Type 4 fists) brown ac- cording to location preference. It can be folded up and placed in any glove compartment, then taken out and placed in the parking lot of your choice. Optional extra fea- ture ($5.00 extra in fact) is a sawed-off shotgun to be used in case of belligerent or questioning campus cops. This little number is a steal at $4.98 (slightly higher west of Crowder Hall). 10. Here's a little item that's always good for a laugh (and isn't everything?) at an Arts and Sci- ence Honors Convocation . . . it's a trick Phi Beta Kappa key. Pres- sure on attached tube good-natur- ally shoots a stream of hydrochlo- ric acid into face of professor who kept you out, while musical appa- ratus within key plays "Drink to Me Only With Thine Eyes," by Victor Riesel. Made of durable Polymer plastic with appropriately tarnished metallic finish. 11. Order now in time for final week - this bottle of invisible ink and wetting solution for ultra violet contact lenses. Enough ink to completely reproduce 24 ac- counting problems, Sauelson's "General Economics," 400 ad lay- outs and the Old Testament on your left arm. The lenses come in assorted sizes for assorted degrees SHOWME, DECEMBER, 1960 of cheating - small and shifty, beady and bloodshot or doe-like and dishonest. A bargain at $49.99. Send all mail orders to Aber- crombie and Fitch. Send all money to Showme. When Patty, quite tipsy, re- turned from a cocktail party in the wee hours of the morning, her roommate awakened and asked: "How did you find the men at the party?" "Well," she giggled, "I just opened the door marked Men, and there they were." Platonic love is like being in- vited down the cellar for a glass of ginger ale. A girl can be very sweet when she wants. Jane: Was that man very embar- rassed when you caught him looking over your transom? Betty: Goodness sake, yes. I thought he'd never get over it. People who live in glass houses shouldn't. Jim's Paint Palette The Stein Club Miss December Suzanne Grayson Filling the Showme stocking this Christmas is lis- some Suzanne Grayson. The bouncy show-stopper in "Guys and Dolls" and "Carosel", she is soon to be seen in the All Student Musical "Bells are Ringing". Susy com- bines an impish cuteness and charm with a razor-like wit an intelligence. The Springfield lass seeks a spotlight on the Broadway stage and if her meteoric success on our stages are any indication, her aspirations are well founded in talent. A Pi Phi, Sue belongs to many honoraries and unfor- tunately has little time for dating. She also writes articles and captions for cartoons for the SHOWME, the lone fe- male on the cartooning staff. Lovely large brown eyes, an elfin grin, and a great ability to sputter out 15 to 20 letter words at a rapid rate when flustered, mark the brightest star in the University galaxy. Sue measures 5'4" in height, however, the other dimensions like her middle name, remain a closely guarded secret. Here, lads, is the SHOWME girl to take home to mom. Photos by MAURICE REESE Season's Greeting A Showme original A Showme original Glad tidings of joy I send you, For soon I'll be back To defend you. -Patrice Dear old War Lord Capitalistic, On this holiday Materialistic, A gift exchange I will propose, You give me these, I'll give you those. You give to me Quemoy and Matsu, And a piece of Siberia, I'll to you; Till then a joyous ringing sound- We're firing you a Christmas round. A Showme original A Showme original Recent reversals prevent me, With all these small delays, Or else I would certainly be Home for the Holidays. Adolf Eichmann To the Kennedys- From our house to your house On this joyous season- We send you this present, With a special reason- Now that the election is over, And the victory belongs to your gang We hope that from this gift, You'll get a great big bang! From The Nixons "Yes Virginia, there IS a Santa Claus." SHOWME, DECEMBER, 1960 "I think it's kind of pretty." "Ok, here's your tennis shoes- now scram!" Showme's Best Well . . . see ya around the columns. Your beard's crooked. -1950- "Let's go out for a breath of air." SUSIE STEPHENS SHOWME - 1957- "They've simply become a part of me!" - 1951- Stephens is too as good as Bryn Mawr. "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas." - - All right, we know you're in there! - - - 24 Alright men, let's go give the old "Ho, ho, ho". SHOWME, DECEMBER, 1960 Mo Mule Kicks Two cockroaches lunched in a dirty old sewer and excitedly dis- cussed the spotless, glistening new restaurant in the neighborhood from which they had been barred. "I hear," said one, "that the re- frigerators shine like polished sil- ver. The shelves are clear as a whistle. The floor sparkle like dia- monds. It's so clean . . . " "Please," said the second in dis- gust, nibbling on a mouldy roll. "Not while I'm eating." Joe: A woman's greatest attrac- tion is her hair. Moe: I say it's her eyes. Ike: It is unquestionably her teeth. Mike: What's the use of sitting here and lying to each other? Math teacher: In the Mitchell fam- ily there are Mother, Daddy and the baby. How many does that make. Freshman: Two and one to carry. Extracts from a coed diary: First day out - Young officer made advances; I repulsed him. Second day out - Young officer made advances; I repulsed him. Third day out - He threatens to blow up ship if I repulse him tomorrow. Fourth day out - I saved thou- sands of lives today. King Arthur: "I understand you've been misbehaving." Knight: "In what manor, sir?" Two little amoebae who were swimming around in the veins of a horse decided that they were hungry. So they wandered into the horse's arteries, a most fatal step, as both of them soon died. The moral of this story is that you shouldn't change streams in the middle of a horse. SHOWME, DECEMBER, 1960 Erie's Steak House Julie's Fil- ched "What's the special for today, Mac?" "And I say the hell with it." "Yes dear, it's very pretty; just, what is it, anyway?" "How did the panty raid go, guys?" Sorry, we're all out of frankincense. OK, lady can you identify the guy you saw prowling around on your roof? To Our Readers and Advertisers. Christmas Greetings Showme By Betsey Transou 'O happy of all happies Christmas time is here again and before long we all get to bounce home for that long awaited vaca- tion and spend 384 hours arguing with our parents. But before we get to go home, there is the good ole house Christ- mas party . . . where everyone chooses up their friends to have their pictures taken, by George. Everyone knows the procedure. First there is the drawing of the name . . at which time you draw the name of the person you know and care the least about. But after deep concentration on the subject, you finally decide to give your drawn person something he needs . . and you ust won't sign your name to the present. Now frater- -nities always give character gifts at Christmas time is the long- awaited-looked-forward-to-formal. First there is the pre-formal party the night before . . . a nice thing to have on the social calendar so everyone can get to know their blind date. Saturday morning ,is the beginning of a cheery busy day . . . with the Alka Seltzer breakfast, followed by the beer breakfast, followed by the pre-pre- cocktail party followed by another Alka Seltzer . . and more cock- tails and then champagne and then Alka Seltzer until everyone is just bubbling formal spirit all over the place. The few that made it to the pre-formal banquet always have charming tales to tell later . . and the fried chicken is always good, at its best when you are dressed up in your best clothes . . however they may look by this time. pledges that have to go to it . . . Now nothing gives us more yule- tide spirit than doing something for others. Give rather than re- ceive, some fool said once, so let your buddy give you a beer and make him feel good. And there is nothing like play- ing Santa Clause to a bunch of cerebral palsied children . . . let- ting them sit in your lap and such. And, OH JOY, caroling at the county Rest Home . . . is only fa- vored by the wonderful feeling we get from sitting around smok- ing and talking with the patients at the cancer hospital. Christmas-present-giving time is .almost as neat as shopping down- town. There is the list of those tightwads who won't give a pres- ent unless they receive one first. But there is a way to combat this Vacation Prelude in short, what you think of the guy. So if he is a real appreciative brotherhe will be pleased that you thought so much of him as to buy a purse that matches his new plaid suit. Girls must be a bit more sweet- ish when they give presents. To- day's college ladies appreciate something more on the practical side from their girl friends. True is the sorority sister who parts with her half-used bottle of spray net, because she knows this is something her friend wants. She must want it she borrows it all of the time. Faithful too is the sister thoughtful enough who has no- ticed her friend in need of a bottle of athlete's foot powder. The one to watch, though, is the girl who gives a scatter pin, perfume or a piece of sorority jewelry. No imag- ination . . . The most partyiest of all parties 30 Favor-giving time is one of the most exciting surprise events we always look forward to at formal time. Why everyone is so sur- prised no one knows, but it is prob- ably because you never know quite what to expect. The choice usual- ly runs like this: A boy either gets a picture cook book with full instructions on how to prepare chow mein; a bedside lamp, with the sorority crest on it, of course; a toenail kit; or that cute, furry, stuffed animal that he has been wanting to buy and put on his bed. Girls always love the umbrel- la, with the fraternity name smeared all over the top; the stud box; or the half-empty bottle of scotch. Of course, then there are the boys who don't get the girls anything. Those females are the happiest of all. Ah, yes . . . there is nothing like the good ole formal . . . and the problem. Hint aroun, easually, of course, about what a tremendously perfect present you've found for him and how you really can't af- ford it but just must because no other present will suit him. Nat- urally the pal catches the hint and becomes so touched by your affec- tion he will buy you a nice gift. After he gives it to you, then it is allright to hand him the sexy dol- lar bookmark you bought just for him. The present for the girl or boy friend . . . in case you happen to have one or two of either . . . is such an easy problem to solve that Emily Post writes a column on it each year. For the boy, she says, a tie is always a nice present, either green or red, for the season- al touch, of course. Other nice gifts that you-don't-need-to-sweat-the- size-about are: Hankies, a large Turn to Next Page SHOWME, DECEMBER, 1960 Mo Mule Kicks Mary was a pretty girl and loved to pick pretty flowers. One day she went to the park and pick- ed lots of flowers. She also watch- ed the birds fly around. Then she went home and gave the flowers to her mother who thanked her very much. Now, if this story gets cut, I resign. A girl of our acquaintance was shopping in her neighborhood mar- ket and found herself behind an austere dame at the meat coun- ter. This member of the local elite From Previous Page bottle of dandruff remover, an um- brella, or a spare gasoline can is a nice gift . . . if you are that type girl, of course. For the male who is worrying about his girl's gift . pick some- thing you know she needs. A home permanent set, mouthwash, non- smear lipstick, a different shade of hair dye . . . some good deodo- rant . . . any of those things that you have noticed she lacks. A girl always appreciates a boy who no- tices her, you know. Finally . . . happy cheer time at M.U. is over . . and we can begin sweating those makeup tests we cut, on the Tuesday after the for- mal. And then .if we make it . we get to go home and calmly dis- cuss with our parents how many relatives have to come over for Christmas dinner, how hard we have been studying lately, and the deficiency that the teacher sent be- cause he doesn't like punctual peo- ple. May you have a Merry Sexmas too SHOWME, DECEMBER, 1960 requested with much dignity that the butcher make some suggestion for her dinner menu. "Of course," said the butcher, "how about a nice ox tongue to be served with spinach?" "What?" exclaimed the haughty one. "Do you have the nerve to suggest that I eat anything that has been in a cow's mouth?" "Well, madam" came back the butcher, "what did you have for breakfast this morning?" "Eggs. Why?" The drunk was telling of his days as a salesman. "Yesh," he said, "I sold a bottle of my miracle rub to a cripple. He rubbed some on his right leg and threw away -his right crutch. Then he rubbed some on his left leg and threw away his left crutch." "Well, what happened then?" asked his listener. "Hell, he fell flat on his face. He couldn't walk without his crutches." She: I'm perfect. He: I'm practice. Hathman House Miller's The Old Man In the Sky by Heming Ernestway He was an Old Man who worked alone and he had gone 335 days without making a promise. In the next few days he would have boys and girls about him. But after these few days the parents would say that the Old Man was now definitely and finally salvo, which is really a dirty word, and the children would go on for another year and forget their presents the first week. The Old Man was fat and round- faced with light winkles in the blue of his eyes. The red blotches the sun brings from its reflection on the polar snow were on his cheeks. The whiskers ran well down the side of his face and his hands had deep-creased scars from holding heavy sacks by the cords. The scars were not fresh. They were as old as the last Christmas. Santos pulled gently on the lines. But the sled was light and they pulled it fast and far across the sky. 32 "Soon they will tire," the Old Man thought. "The one with the red nose will tire and then all stop." The sled kept moving South. In the morning over the city it looked deserted. He thought: I think this must not be the town, but I will have a look." They glided down just missing six tall poles in the middle of a large grass plot. "Whoa," the Old Man said. "Whoa, dammit," (he said). "Hey, buddy, can't you read the signs." It was a man in a brown suit. "Ah," Santos thought, "it is a good thing to hear this voice." "Move it," the voice said. The Old Man could not fathom the sacredness of the ground. But he accepted the nature of the thing and moved the sled. All over it was two days before Christmas, a jolly season of siesta and drink. Except here. Here it was intersession, which is really a dirty word. Santos entered the big wooden building. It was cold in the big wooden building. But Santos liked the cold. He thought: "It is a fine thing that visitors are looked after so." Santos was invited to direct the workshop. He did not savvy, which is really a cowboy word, why these people were here and what they could possibly do now. "The first question was answered from the back of the cold room. "My name, my name, Hose, Hose Hamanis. I here from Nor, Norway. I study this time to fix Up my majar suject." "Fine", said the old man. "What do you study?" "Lan, langage." "Ho, Ho," (the Old Man). From others Santos found the second answer. He did not under- stand some of the words but he accepted them. He had to. That was the way it was. "I sack in the stacks and eat snaks. Like I ain't got the jack for a pad and some bread." Another washed whitewash signs, which are really dirty words, off streets for Christmas cash to pay for the course. One peddled AHAB buttons half-price to high school students. But Santos was pleased they had come to his workshop. He thought: "it is a fine thing they had come to my workshop." They hammered and nailed and pushed 18 weeks of work into two days and nights. Then they rested. The Old Man walked down the sidewalk to his sled. It was heavy now. Much work had been done this intersession. Not many could do this, Santos thought. A sack was even tied to the side of the sled. In the sky over the six poles, Santos waved a farewell. He had hard work before going home. The old man wanted only to lean back on the papers and sleep. Girls who eat spinach have legs like this!! Girls who ride horseback have legs like this ( ) Girls who get drunk have legs like this ) ( Girls who use good judgment have legs like this X SHOWME, DECEMBER, 1960 "Don't forget now, honey, tomorrow's a negative hour day." "Come up to my room sometime and see my cal- culus file." Maybe so, but it does stop my headaches, and it doesn't upset my stomach! SHOWME, DECEMBER, 1960 CAMPUS JEWELRY ANDY'S CORNER Joey: "Her neck's dirty." Freddie: "Her does?" Kindly Minister (pinching little boy's knee): "And who has nice chubby pink legs?" Little Boy: "Brigitte Bardot." Are you sure this motel is Uni- versity approved? "How did you like the bridge party last night?" "Fine, until the cops looked un- der the bridge." A pinch of salt is greatly im- -proved by dropping it into a stein of beer. Son: "Ma, what's the idea of makin' me sleep up here every night?" Mother: "Hush, Bobby, you only have to sleep on the mantlepiece two more weeks and then your picture will be in Believe-it-or- Not." Rosie entertained so many male visitors in the parlor and things were so quiet while they were in attendance that Rosie's Papa final- ly grew suspicious. One night he told his wife, "I've got a wonder- ful invention that will help us check up on Rosie. It's a televi- sion pereiscope. Just turn it on when Rosie is in the parlor with her fella tonight. If he holds her hand, there'll be a green light. If he kisses her, there'll be a purple light." The contraption was set in place, the male visitor arrived, and Papa settled back for a nap. His wife awakened him by shak- ing him violently. "Come quick, Papa." she cried, "and see the pretty rainbow." SHOWME, DECEMBER, 1960 The Gothic Tower by Mark Falcoff With local beer joints refusing minors refreshment, a social prob- lem of the very first rank has aris- en. For, after a long and difficult day of waging the war of the grade point, what relaxations can the M.U. student turn to? If he is anti-social, and doesn't date, then what else can he do to escape the almost maddening effect of lec- tures and examinations? The an- swer would seem to be television. That, at least, was the purpose of the inventors of the miracle box. They unquestionably must have pictured their innovation as a po- tential source of solace to Man, who, after a long hard day at work would be invigorated by en- tertaining programs. I hardly need say that the "mir- acle box" has fallen short of the goal. People agree that television is repulsive. The only point of dis- agreement is which part is most repulsive. Probably the front run- ning candidate on everyone's list is the commercials. It isn't that there are so many of them - though there are - but rather that, few or many, they revile the pub- lic. For instance, a score of quack medical remedies have been res- urrected from old medicine shows, and since they can't cure any known disease, the advertising in- dustry has had to invent a few. And what maladies they invent! Halitosis (to have this, an actress coyly whispers, is tantamount to having VD in terms of being an undesirable date), iron deficiency anemia (a dramatic name for old age) and score of others. Tooth Paste, Ughl To me, the most thoroughly dis- concerting facet of drug advertis- ing is the toothpaste commercial. Now, most people regard the brushing of teeth - at best - as a sickening thing to observe, so SHOWME, DECEMBER, 1960 that such activities are relegated to behind closed, and, it is to be hoped, locked, bathroom doors. Not on TV! They open wide the doors and barge in on thoroughly revolting people dressed in paja- mas (in my book a sign of moral weakness - to lazy to get dressed). These people are spewing the froth of last night's dinner with all the zest of a freshman quaffing his first beer. The next logical step after this will be a commercial in which the principals sing a jingle while they foam at the mouth. One could spend a whole column on TV commercials (whole books have been written on them), but that wouldn't leave much space for other TV products, and, fel- low kiddies, we can't overlook those. I never watch these 90-minute dramatic shows, but my aunt loves 'em: Playhouse 90, Crisis, Climax, and her personal favorite until it went off the air (thanks be to the Almighty!), the Kraft Theater. This program managed to present a play each week, the monotony of whose plot was, happily, relieved by little lectures on how to make cheese omlets, courtesy of your friendly sponsor. The play itself would follow thus: Selma, a 19-year old girl, lives with her step-sister and step- brother-in-law Jake in a flat in the Bronx. She is in constant con- flict with her step-sister (whose hostilities have been deep-seated for years over the question of a vanity table which their mother left both of them. (It symbolizes something - I've forgotten what). In between Selma's inner conflicts of a confused girl growing into a more confused woman, and her trials and tribulations in the mail- ing room of a pipe-fitting factory in Flatbush, she falls in love with George, a gangling, 20-year-old pseudo-poet who works as a de- livery boy at Mrs. Fanucacucci's grocery store on the corner. George knows his poetry will never sell, but he doesn't care because he has faith in mankind. So there! In the end, they get married of course, and go to the Congo as Zen missionaries. Ah, sweet mystery of life! WESTERNS The problem of the same old plot on the Western program was temporarily solved a few years ago when the "adult" Western was introduced. When I was eight years old, in the old ancient days before adult westerns, a friend remarked to me as we were watch- ing an old cowboy movie on Sat- urday television, "Well, in the end either the good guys 'get' the bad guys, or the good guys and the bad guys make friends." To- day, of course, either the good guy "gets" the bad guy, or the bad guy is sent to a psychiatrist. If it should happen that the bad guy, who really isn't that bad (he only killed a whole family, a dog, and rustled their cattle) gets shot, the good guy feels guilty and will be maladjusted for the rest of his life. Defenders of this school of dra- ma insist that this is realism. "Af- ter all, nobody is all bad." Maybe so. But if this is supposed to be realism, that brings us to the prob- lem of Kitty on "Gunsmoke." Re- grettably, in the days of the Wild West, barmaids engaged in quite another line of business, and yet by all accounts Kitty would have not trouble gaining admission to a nunnery. Is this realism? Even adult westerns are begin- ning to wear pretty thin. Lately Cheyenne has been so boring that the sponsors make Clint Walker partially disrobe during each epi- sode. That, at least, keeps the women watching. Mrs. Dante: "What are you writ- ing now, dear?" Dante: "Hell, you wouldn't un- derstand." 35 Mark SHOWME does too have an in- tellectual. If you don't belieev it, just read the Gothic Tower, one of our most popular features. Mark has constantly amazed people with his volumnious reper- tory of knowledge - from read- ing . . . especially things other than the Bud label as shown here. A native Missourian transported in early life to Los Angeles, Mark came to the hallowed halls of the ole State U. planning to enter the World 's Greatest Journalism School (just ask them). But some- where he went wrong (or saw the light) and now is aiming for a po- litical science degree. Mark has piled up an impres- sive straight-A average, except for a C on botany (the evil hand of botany strikes again). Mark, who lives in the Tau Kappa Epsilon house, is no stranger to the col- umning business, having penned "Mark My Words" in the campus weekly last year. He spends his summers working as a copy boy- reporter on the Los Angeles Times. Mark's big interest is in politics - both national and campus. He has been an avid worker on the Bridge's United Campus party since its beginnings early this fall. This summer he was assistant ser- geant-at-arms for the California delegation of the Republican Na- tional Convention and gave sever- -al speeches in the Los Angeles area for Nixon. 36 Mark's daily orbit usually runs from the Teke House to his classes to the library. Once a month he drops off his candid glimpse of Mizzoulife from the Gothic Tower at the SHOWME office. We imagine that we will hear from him some day in the future when our kids are slaving over some American government text written by Mark Falcoff - that is if he ever forgives us for using this picture. (honest, he's only READING the label). Showme Contributors Larry Look out! Here comes Larry Ful- ler, the SHOWME's answer to Dr. Goebbels. If you're not careful, Larry will literally sweep you off your feet. It's not that he is un- gainly or anything like that - pause - it's just that he is too engrossed in dreaming up wild publicity schemes for us to stay in business. Larry is the Minister of Proga- ganda and Public Enlightenment for Ye Campus Humor Mag. If it weren't for him, the masses wouldn't know that the SHOWME was each month, for upon his shoulders falls the task of direct- ing the circulation and publicity staff. Larry also manages to super- vise the YMCA's publicity effort, as well as to rack up prize after prize for top flight reporting which he does - however clan- destinely - on the weekly stu- dent newspaper effort, writing the "Seventh Column" and covering MSA news. Larry hails from Trenton, Mich- igan, but naturally, being a jour- nalist, made the proper pilgrim- age to M.U., since as every school- child knows, M.U. has the "best J-school," etc., etc. Last year he lived in the dorms, but it didn't take the men of Tau Kappa Epsi- long to see good material and pledge him forthwith. He presides in a room full of papers, manu- scripts, books and SHOWMEs on the far north end of the second floor of the Teke house, where he is easily accessible to anyone who is interested in buying - or even better, in selling - SHOWME. Larry's major interests are nat- urally publications, and getting a favorable grade from Dr. J. S. Brushwood in Spanish 103. Dr. Brushwood, a literrateur of no small repuation, has categorically asserted he hasn't read - and won't read - the SHOWME, so we won't appeal to him just here and now. But, somehow, with all Larry's native virm and vigor, zip- up-and-go, we're sure he'll finish in a blaze of glory. Right now Lar- ry is so swamped that he couldn't even grant the SHOWME staff an interview to compile material for this article. We got the scoop on him by going through his archives, which almost literally covers the walls of his room. Truly, with Lar- ry, - "if you seek his monument, look about you." SHOWME, DECEMBER, 1960 This annum I bowed to that trite old pagan custom invented by reactionary material- ists and decided to send presents on the kid's birthday. I started early last May to avoid the deluge of conformists which con- stantly fill the Missouri Store. However they were there like locusts and were picking the shelves clean with consumer- like efficiency. Chuckling inwardly, I shouted, "I have money". And a path was cleared for me by officials of the management. My wallet popped out of my jeans at the sight of the endless variety of goods. For the alcoholic padmate, a hand painted beer mug showing the sun setting on Switzler Hall; for the friends who have other vices, a syringe and rubber tube; for mothers, a checkbook book. There were enough luscious chicks at the gift-wrapping service to fill the first one hundred pages of a Mickey Spillane novel. The packages were wrapped in bright colors, the chicks in low-cut gray smocks. I was wrapped in a straight-jacket, so they could finish the packages. Next I visited the book section to fill out the rest of my list. I bought a copy of Sherlock Holmes for J. Edgar Hoover, How To Win Friends and Influence People for Dick Nixon and More Peanuts for Vladi- mer Nabokov. All this time this kid on a crutch kept clutching at my sleeve and saying, "God bless one and all". It took me forty-five minutes to attain the front door again - the Xmas Rush is on! So, take my advice, stud, kiss your chick good-bye and split for the Misery Book Store for the finest in student shopping. I picked my path through the beer cans across the campi to my sewer-pad. The little old lady chasing me with my rebate tabs heard Sandy Clots salutation through the man hole - quote, "Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night". The Missouri Book Store Give 'em Hell Tigers Dick Barnett's Men's Clothing EXCHANGE NATIONAL BANK COLUMBIA SAVING BANK Suzanne's Gibson's Pucketts Carter Shell Service Ever Eat Cafe The Shack BOONE COUNTY NATIONAL BANK Pla-Boy Drive-In H.R. Mueller Florist KFRU Radio Parks Department Store