Not This Time
Because of a possible election contestation by one party if
its candidates did not win today’s election, the voting booths
which were to be set up in the Vets’ Commons will be placed
in the library.
The possible complaint would take this line:
It is advantageous to one party to have voting booths in the
Commons, which is on the regular rounds of Vet’s Dorm stu
dents; and disadvantageous to the other part.
The Council, by a telephone poll, has decided to move the
booths rather than have the expense of a contested election.
Now, before Spring elections, the Council will investigate to
determine if booths in the Vet’s Commons will be considered
just by the Jucliciary Committee. While the Council acted
within their constitutional rights, it wishes to be sure that the
Judiciary Committee will look with favor upon its actions.
It will at least be a relief to finally get the matter of polls in
the vet’s dorms settled.
Smile, Smile, Smile
The Oregon State College Barometer was jubilant the
other day in commenting upon the State Board of Higher Edu
cation’s action in granting OSC a PE major in its School of
Education.
There were such remarks as:
“Have you noticed the smiles on all the faces of physical
education personnel on the campus the last two days . .. After
an 18 year struggle, their fine work has finally been recognized.”
A PE Major means these things for OSC, according to the
Barometer:
1) “Recognition as a school on a par with other institutions
as far as PE is concerned.
2) “Equal chance for OSC graduates in the coaching field.
3) “OSC will provide equal attraction to athletes who wish
to participate in college sports and later follow the coaching
profession.
4) “Staters may raise their heads and show toothy smiles
when someone mentions ‘physical education.
The Baro then says, “Thank you very much, state board of
higher education, your choice was admirable and heart-warm
ing.”
We, frankly, think it was a rather expensive way for the
State Board to permit Beavers to show toothy smiles. The
board might better have followed the suggestion of Chancellor
Paul Packer and taken no action until a special curricular
study has been made.
But far be it from us to keep the OSC PE instructors from
smiling three months longer.
The Emerald Congratulates:
Life magazine for their “Shulmanesque” coverage of “Col
lege Fraternity." The article is as enjoyable as a chapter from
“Barefoot Boy with Cheek,” and comes near the high quality
Max Shulman has set in his burlesque of college life.
Sojx/tatnosie Wisdom
Things Are Not
As Exciting
by Bab tyvnh
£ X
£ R C
4
Today is election day, to be accompanied by
screams of persons having their arms twisted
and general blood-letting.
Of course, things are not nearly so excit
ing, politically speaking, as they used to be.
You hardly ever find a TNE membership
card lying around campus with all the old ice
cream bar wrappers, and it has been one heck
of a long time since the editor of the Emer
ald had to carry a gun.
The good old days are gone—maybe for
ever.
There is even a general tendency these
days to carry out party platforms. We note
with just a hint of sadness that the Millrace
has been restored, thereby eleminating one
of our favorite planks from the platforms of
both parties. However, there are still things
like humor magazines and faculty follies to
keep the orators talking.
Today’s elections seem to be for freshmen
only, which makes us feel more than just a
little left out. We have been diligently read
ing party propaganda and listening to flying
speeches, and now when it comes right down
to the test, we find that we are not going to be
able to vote after all.
(Please turn to page three)
Oh the Aist
The Annual Worry
After Graduation £
by Malty 'UJeUy+ten.
rvN
r
A L * X ’
pi t R c e
It is now getting around that time when
the class of 1950 is beginning to think about
how they are going to earn those groceries
next Fall. The last of the veteran-swollen
classes has been putting it off from four to
eight years, but the back is up against the
wall and we have to start figuring on how we
are going to spend the time between now and
the day we can start drawing dividends on so
cial security.
A friend of ours in the journalism school
did a little job hunting in Portland recently.
He reported that besides being well filled
right now, the Rose City dailies were consid
ering hiring only local people when and if
they need new personnel. That started a lot
of comment among aspiring pressmen from
ont of Portland, and there is a lot to be said on
both sides.
If a situation like that were to exist, the line
could be extended to cover the state. A Eu
gene person is as much an Oregonian as a
Portlander. Pie knows the state as well as his
big city brother, and while it may take him a
while to learn that “all roads lead to the Hi
Mac club”, he would come into the Big Town
with the fresh and critical air that is often the'- *
(Please turn to page three)
The End of an Era--No More Lines, No More Men
By JANE CLARK
Some of the senior girls living in
Carson hall look on the opening of
the new dining room much as a 30
year Army man looks on his retire
ment papers—with dismay and mel
ancholy . . . and no real joy, now that
the fateful day has actually arrived.
With the retirement of the girls into
their own daintily appointed mess
hall, an old order of things passed
from the Oregon scene, never to re
turn.
For the first time since John
Straub Hall opened more than 20
years ago, no girlish chatter and fem
inine charms will grace the dining
room there. Old timers will remem
ber that, although no women lived in
Straub before the war, at least the
“girls from Suzy" always ate over on
Onyx street.
There is an unwritten law in the be
havior of college students that they
should complain about school food,
but eating at Straub made life so
much richer.
With pride senior girls can claim
that they have had more to gripe
about than anyone else. If a freshman
complains about the lines out to the
door, we who are about to depart can
say patronizingly:
“You think this is bad? You should
have seen the lines the year I was a
freshman! In the fall of ’46, every
single dormitory unit on the campus
plus Ann Judson House, ate in this
very room, and that includes all the
V«?t’s Dorms, which had just opened.
You haven’t seen a real line waiting
to be fed, unless you’ve seen it go
back through the center lobby, out
the doors, and extend to the end of
the block in either direction. Now
those really were the days!"
Memories of the days of block-long
lines were only part of the nostalgia
suddenly brought on by that last
meal in Straub last Wednesday noon.
The realization that this was the last
time we would ever dawdle over one
last cup of coffee in this dark-paneled,
high-ceilinged place made it a mo
ment of sadness.
Knowledge of the far better place
we went to, which would be so con
venient, so charming, so suited to
young ladies (and, we might add, so
manless,) did nothing to remove the
feeling.
This had been more than a place to
eat to many of us. It was the place we’d
struggled and cursed as we tried to
turn it into a romantic setting for a
house dance between dinner and 9
p.m., always with the knowledge it
must show no scar of the night’s rev
elry by breakfast time the following
morning. It was the place where we
sat and watched in awe and reverence
as the football team strode casually
in and sat together in one corner and
talked over important tactical plays
for the coming weekend, while work
ing methodically through two of ev
erything on the menu, and more be
sides. And perhaps more than any
thing, this dining room had been a
place of romances. Let the sororities
have there lovely living-rooms and
dens, and many nooks where two
could sit and talk. Alpha, Gamma and
Zeta might have only a dreary, small
little living-room with no more priv
acy than turning the sofa to the fire
place could provide, but the dining
room made up for it in many ways.
The number of happy marriages that
have resulted from a chance encoun
ter while standing in line, or a request
to pass the salt and pepper, is untold,
but it is large. We can’t imagine what
will now take the place of this sort of
golden opportunity in the lives of the
Carsonites.
And now, John Straub is complete
ly a male stronghold. The movement
that began last fall to make it so,
when Alpha, Gamma, and Zeta girls
were transferred to Carson, is now
complete. Time softens all adjust
ments. Very likely in months to come
when the rains set in, we, too, will
appreciate not having to slosh two
blocks for meals. Yet, aiter nearly
four years, to have nothing to talk
to but girls ...