Oregon daily emerald. (Eugene, Or.) 1920-2012, June 02, 1955, SECTION II, Page Three, Image 11

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    ON FLOAT PARADES
Eta, Eta, Eta, Eta,
Phi Belch Paired
By Bob Funk
Emerald Columnist
May 15, 1954
W'hen C.randma Fate, in the form of the Float Parade
chairman, saw fit to pair Quadruple Kta sorority with Phi
P>< lch fraternity for the purpose of constructing a float, there
was something less than wild celebrating and cheering—until
hoarse oil the part of both parties to this artistic marriage.
K\er since the Phi Belch brothers had severed the sleeping
porch from (lie Quadruple Kta house late one night and left
it in the intersection of 13th and Willamette, relations had
been only superficially pleasant between the two groups.
However, as the Quadruple Eta president said, “We must all
enter into this project with the spirit of Cooperation and Fun,
especially the pledges." .
For one solid week prior to Junior Weekend, the mem
bers of the two houses had Planning Meetings which were
so Cooperative and Funny that nothing much got planned
or started until Friday night. Friday night, a bonfire
lighted a poker game which Phi Belch held under the float;
and dimly flickered upon the endeavors of the Quadruple
Eta pledge class, which was putting the float together with
scotch tape and sincerity.
I he float consisted of a two-acre superstructure artfully
conjured out of chicken wire, while the pledges were covered
with aluminum toil to spell out the names of the sponsoring
houses.
ft*, the center of tilt float there was a forty-voice choir
singing the Battle Hymn of the Republic. Oarcella Mawg
Idadder, the most shapely of the Quadruple Etas, stood upon
a chicken-w ire tower, clothed only in what a large Portland
firm fondly thought of a bathing suit, waving a banner in
scribed with “Write a Letter Home to Mother.” At the op
posite end of the float, two young men with 200-inch chest
expansions stood shirtless, with chests expanding to the
-training point and nicely-hrowned with Max Factor No.*5.
There wa- a paper maclie eagle which flapped its wings
dutifully in time to the choir music, and a crepe-paper vol
cano uhicl* erupted root beer and Tootsie rolls. Several
small, reluctant children sat around among paper flowers;
they were sort of a coup de gras—judge bait in case every
thing else failed.
i nis entire nangmg garden. Medicated to Country,
Chastity and J ntrammeled Motherhood, was supported upon
the hack of retired plow horse named Mae, who had stood
there patiently for a week while a glorious new world was
erected upon her. She was a modern-day Atlas, living on
no-doze and spudnuts.
Mae was not the only victim of the Xew Order. While
leading a hardy band of climbers up the half-completed vol
cano. the Quadruple Kta President. Passion Slodge, had
been asked to hold a section of chicken wire while it was
nailed to the frame. The end result, due to poor planning, was
that Passion was nailed into the mountain. She was a con
stant example of the Good Spirit, smiling forcedly out from
behind some crepe paper snow.
By the time it was Saturday afternoon, several things
remained to be done to the float; these gaps were artfully
bridged by tacking up some old camgaign literature over
embarrassing spots. Mae lumbered heavily to the Point of
Assembly, where most of the float fell apart and had to be
put back together again.
Several hours later everything was ready and the parade
started. Most of the other floats seemed to*have restricted
themselves by adhering to some unimaginative theme or
something. The progress of the float was smooth, except for
a couple of minor incidents. One of the shirtless men, to
gether with his chest expanson, was swept off by a tree. Mis
anguished cries were successfully drowned out by the Battle
Hymn of the Republic. During the lulls there were obligato
moans from Passion Slodge, who was becoming drenched
with root beer vapor.
The members of Quadruple Kta and Phi Burp, who were
noj: somehow attached or trapped in the float, ran along
behind, sticking stray pieces of crepe paper back into the wire
and shouting encouragement to Mae, who was down to her
last spudnut.
The float was a great success with the crowd. Several
mothers wept openly at the banner “Write Home,” declared
that (iarcella Hawgbladder was a “sweet thing." Several
fathers also said that Garcella was a sweeeet thing, or some
thing to that effect, although their attention seemed riveted
upon the product of the Portland firm rather than the banner.
'The judges ignored most everything except the small chil
dren. They gave ten points for each child and bonus points
for each Tootsie roll which erupted their way. A male judge
gave 200 points for Garcella. A republican judge gave 100
ON CAR RALLIES
Ambrosia Campaigns
BV BOB fi;nk
Kmcrald Columnist
May 9, 1952
Two hundred lemon-yellow
Cadillac convertibles were lined
up In front of the Quadruple Eta
sorority house. Each of them
bore the sign “Ambrosia Glurp
| for Hysterical Festivity Week
i end Queen." The cars were full
| of men from fifty campus fra
| ternities, all of whom were in
j love with Ambrosia and had
i sworn to fling themselves off
j Judkins Point for love, maybe
; next week sometime.
The door of Quadruple Eta
j opened and the house president
pushed four seniors, bound and
gagged, down the steps. They
j were pushed into cars, rubber
masks wearing delighted, fever
j ish smiles were pulled over their
; heads, and guns were put at their
1 backs. “No senior slump here,"
the house president declared
; happily. “Every Quadruple Eta
| does her part.”
Meanwhile, Ambrosia Glurp
who had already been on fifteen
“Ambrosia Glurp for Queen”
noise parades and was getting
saddle sores, was being cajoled
out of the house. She had been
told it was really just a rather
large picnic. Ambrosia stood in
the back seat of one of the con
vertibles (people were already
sitting in dH the available space.)
A banner bearing the strange de
vice "sex" was thrust into her
left hand, while she held an Am
erican flag and a Bible in her
right.
The parade Is about to start.
Begin screaming,” the Quad
ruple Eta president shouted
through a megaphone. All the
Quadruple Etas began scream
ing vigorously. The lemon-yel
low convertibles began moving
forward, and members of fifty
fraternities began honking
their horns.
It was a grand parade. Color
was added by occasionally toss
ing a Quadruple Eta pledge un
der one of the convertibles. Am
brosia smiled serenely, waving
graciously at small children and
dogs on the sidewalk. During one
quick stop she was catapulted
over the hood; but laughing
good-naturedly, she picked her
self up, spat on the driver, and
resumed her stand.
The parade wound through the
library stacks and down to John
son Hall, which was blown up
as a sort of finale. Everyone said
it was the best noise parade ever.
All the other queen candidiates
couldn't digest their lunch for
envy. •
Naturally, Ambrosia Glurp
won. She had the majority of
the convertibles on her side, after
all. The only real mishap was
that they couldn’t get the smiling
rubber mask off one of the sen
iors. By a vote of the chapter it
was decided that she looked bet
ter that way, anyway,# so no one
is worrying about it.
ON PINNINGS
Willis Leads Bondsmen
HI HUH h I > K
Emerald Columnist
Nov. 20, 1952
The bondsmen sat on their
i haunches about the hearth, their
j small, close-set eyes peering in
tently into the fire. Above them
j the fraternal crest glinted with
| evil lights from behind a cobweb,
and below them a lost soul cried
! out from the coziness of one of
S the fraternal iron maidens.
It was a lean and lonely season
| for the bondsmen; they were like
wolves when there are no lost
j children, or owls when there are
j no juicy mice running around in
the field. The supply of unmaimed
j pledges was running dismally
| low*
And, as is liable to happen at
any time, the door was flung
open and Willis the Weasel.
Protector of the Bond, ran in
on all fours. “Cheers," he
growled, “there’s a bit of dirty
business to be done.”
The teeth of the bondsmen
glistened, arid their eyes flashed.
"Harold the Amorous has plant
ed his pm, Willis continued in
his charming, colloquial way.
With this he was unable to con
! tinue because of the chorus of
triumphant growls from the as
semblage.
‘•Blood!” shouted one.
“Blood!” chorused all.
"Blood!” reiterated Willis, the
Head of the Herd.
An hour later, Harold the
Amorous wended his way toward
the Door Fraternal. He was
smelling a rose and thinking that
maybe he would write a sonnet
: if he could figure out what a son
net was. He was just reaching for
the doorknob when he fell into a
large pit which was cleverly con
I cealed beneath a doormat pro
claiming “All Who Enter Here
Are Brothers.”^ The bondsmen
rushed out with long poles and
began prodding at Harold. For a
; time it was thought he was dead,
; but it wag later ascertained that
1 only one leg and two ribs were
broken, and the high good humor
of the company was restored.
“Bring the rack,” shouted Wil
lis.
Points for the Battle Hymn of the Republic. A near-sighted
judge gave 100 points for General Appearance.
1>\ this time. Passion Slodge was completely carbonated,
and giggling hysterically. Mae, godlike in her endurance, was
reciting Out of the float that covered me, heavy as hel! from
tail to ear. I thank whatever gods may be for my unbending
rear."
After the judging stand had been passed, things began to
fall apart rather generally. Passion Slodge, due to some
kind of relocation inside the mountain, erupted spectacular
ly from the volcano along with the Mist and Tootsie rolls.
The flapping eagle flapped off both wings, which fell into
the choir and caused considerable screaming and jumping
around. Mae ran out of spudnuts and began munching upon
some of the paper flowers and even tentatively nipped one
of the children, which was a social error.
Pile second chest expanson was plucked off by a low wire,
while a frolicsome wind wound the banner about Garcella
I law gbladder and caused her to topple heavily into the choir,
which was only beginning to recover after the fall of the
eagle wings.
Finally, nothing was left but Mae, with some crepe paper
sticking out of one sde of her mouth, and two choir members
still determinedly singing the Battle Hymn. They continued
this way until they reached the Disassembly Point, at which
point they discovered they had nothing left to disassemble.
We will not tarry to speculate upon such moot Questions
as Did they Win the float Parade. (Of course they did!) Or
\\ hether They Exceeded the Limit On Expenses (It was all
done with old leftover pieces of paper.) We will only reflect
sadly, for a moment, upon the passing of the two-acre float,
now commemorated only by a few stray's impaled on trees
and high wires, and a case of indigestion somewhere in the
innards of Mae.
“Bring the rack," echoed every
one.
The rack was brought and
Harold, now quite limp but still
clutching the roses, was stretched
upon it. Only the essentials of
Harold's clothing were left upon
his body: it was funnier that way.
After considerable laughter
and some stretching of Harold
upon the rack, the bondsmen
burned some mystic symbols
upon Harold's flesh and began
to carry the rack and its bur
den down the street toward the
abode of the fair Gladys.
Gladys was smelling a rose
when she heard the growl of the
approaching bondsmen. “It’s
them," sighed Gladys.
“It's they,” moaned the house
mother, hiding behind a tea serv
ice.
And it was, too. The bondsmen
carried the rack into the dining
room and set it before the fair
Gladys, who was giggling ecstati
cally. Gladys was given the
handle, or whatever one uses to
make the rack stretch whoever
is on the rack, and she, being a
good sport, turned it mightily
with the muscles she had acquired
from opening beer cans.
Harold stretched and stretched
and everyone was a Good Sport.
And they laughed and laughed
and they all said it was the best
pinning ever.
The body of Harold, being
rather limited in its adaptability,
was creaking with strain. In fact,
lately the Amorous, had ap
proached that condition at which
point a rubber band twangs at a
very high key.
Gladys, flushed with the at
tention being given her, and re
membering her duty as a Good
Sport, gave one more exuberant
twist to the handle, and Harold
parted in the middle rather
neatly.
It goes without saying that this
put sort of a damper upon the
whole affair. Some said you
might have expected Harold to
do something like that; he never
was much of a good sport. Gladys
was distraught; she couldn’t-fig
ure out what to do with Harold's
pin. But the house mother was
the most upset; it made a nasty
mess in the dining hall.
The bondsmen went running off
home in a pack, Willis the Weasel
in the lead. It may be heartening
to some to hear that Willis inad
vertently fell in the pit in front
of the Door Fraternal later that
evening and knocked out two
front teeth.