SECTION II
' OI~ I VI I NIVK1LM I V OF OREGON, EUGENE, THLRSDAV, JUNE
2. 1055
NO. 141
ON ACTIVITY QUEENS
Don't Be Too Popular
BY BOB FINK
Emerald Columnist
April SO, 195*
Life had become horribly bor
ing for her. It wan getting ho
that she wan resorting to going
to class. there being nothing else
to jjo that was new.
What was there beyond thin,
anyway ? She had achieved
wow, had she ever achieved’ They
had to build two new fireplaces
In tiie sorority just to provide
for her cups There waa the cup
she had won her freshman year
Best in the Show. And her sopho
more cup Purple Hyacinth of
Tri Gnu frat club. Her Junior cup
(her mother had given it to her
It was for drinking out of.)
And now: a golden mug for
I gliest Pan on Campus (or a
golden pan for Cgliest .Mug on
Campus—she could never re
member which. It held three
quarts, was topped by a figure
of Venus standing on the
shoulders of Diana standing on
tiie shoulders of .Minerva who
was scratching herself, and
l>ore the Inscription “Inher
situs Orcgonrnsls: Mens Agllal
Womens.**)
What was there to achieve after
all this? She had thought rather
tentatively of developing her
mind or winning a letter in some
thing or joining TNE. She had
also thought of getting married.
But would you marry someone
with a pin in the shape of a cross,
or one of those diamond-shaped
ones?
Sometimes she envisioned her
self posed dramatically on a hill
top In Korea, clad in a shimmer
ing while nurse's uniform with an
off-the-shoulders top and an or
chid corsage. In one hand there
was a bottle of plasma, which was
connected by a long tube to Far
ley Granger, Humphrey Bogart
and Sir Laurence Olivier, whose
j collective lives she wjus saving
In her other hand she held a cup
which Herbert Hoover. President
(insert name in November I.
Douglas MacArthur, Wayne
Morse and President Newburn
had just awarded her for carrying
Mercy into the Thick of the Fray.
There was a look of inexpressible
dignity and compassion on her
face. She was not trying to
sneeze.
At other times she imagined
herself on the top of a piano
at the Copaca well, that big
j night club in New York. She was
almost wearing a black evening
gown and Marlene Dietrich’s legs
were sticking out of it, although
everyone thought they were hers.
She was singing ' Bill'' in a voice
which sounded very much like
Helen Morgan's. Everyone was
crying. In one hand she held a
cocktail which was really orange
juice because for all that she was
really such a nice girl.
Ill the other hand she was
holding a tasteful bouquet of
roses, gardenias, water lilies,
and sagebrush, which had just
been presented to her by the
Duke of Windsor, Ford Rocke
feller, Astor Vanderbilt Du
Pont (I,LVj, Albert Kinstein
(lie was down for the weekend,)
William Saroyan and Cornelia
Otis Skinner.
You could never imagine the
I things she imagined herself. It
would take all of the editorial
page and part of Duck Tracks.
What is there ir^life, she thought,
| for one who has achieved so
j much ? The more she thought
about this, the more melancholy
siie became. She had never taken
a psych course and didn't know
, which way to turn. As you can
imagine this led to trouble.
Ore dramatic evening her sor
ority sister found her sequin hair
pin floating on top of the Sneak
Dat of Alder Street cup which
was full of rain water. They drag
ged the trophy for three hoqrs.
and at last brought up the lovely
suicide’s body.
The whole matter was hushed
up considerably, however. Her
sorority didn’t want the campus
to know, after all, that the girl
had died in her cups.
ON MEN'S RUSHING
Rushing Function Held
BV BOB FI NK
Emerald Columnist
Jan. 10, 1952
"Now clean it up, hut not TOO
clean," the rushing chairman
said. "After all this is supposed
to be a fraternity house." All
morning they had been scatter
ing tasteful arrangements of
tennis shoes, footballs, baseball
bats ail'd sweat shirts around
downstairs. Now it was almost
noon, time for the rushees to
come,
"Is everyone wearing ARUO
sox?" the house president
barked. Everyone was. Every
o:.c'i ARUO sox had holes in
them. It was more fraternity
that way.
"Here come the rushees,”
the rushing chairman crowed
ns some small apprehensive
persons edged up the front
sidewalk. “Assume false
smiles!” he growled. “You over
there—he giving each other the
secret grip! Someone start re
citing the chapters beginning
with Alpha. Assume typical
fraternity poses!” One of the
more sensitive members ran
upstairs and was violently ill.
As the rushees entered the
front door there was a small
embarrassed flurry as the house
dog bit one of them right .in his
ASUO sox. False smiles and typi
cal fraternity poses were main
tained on all sides, however, and
the general hand-shaking and
mumbling-of-names began.
"Where are you from"" a fra
ternity member would ask.
"Well, I'm from—”
“Oh, fine little town! Spent a
summer there, ha-ha-ha. Some
nice girls around there, ha-ha
ha. Got drunk twenty times, ha
ha-ha. At this point everyone
would slap everyone else heartily
on the back. This was to show
how fraternal and good-fellowsy
everyone was.
A bell sounded and a group of
men began singing a fraternity
song about the founders. Actu
ally no one knew any real fra
ternity songs. They were just
making it up as they went along.
They sang the same song in loud
voices for 45 minutes, although
along toward the end the tune
and lyrics became suspiciously
similar to “On the Leland Stan
ford Junior Varsity Farm."
Upstairs, a part of the mem
bership was dragging rush res
through rooms. They ap
proached a tier of nine-decker
beds. “These are the pads." a
large member explained. “Try
one!” He pushed a small rushee
into the bottom bunk. The oth
er members quickly strapped
him down and stapled a pledge
pen on his chest.
“Welcome into the brother
hood!” the large member shout-i
i ed, his voice full of hearty good 1
"humor.
After a time everyone went
in to lunch. The members of the
fraternity jumped up every six
and one-quarter minutes to sing
hearty songs. It was necessary
to stand to sing the songs, since
all the other fraternities stood
to sing similar songs. During
some songs you folded your arms
over your chest. If you did not
, have a chest, you put your hands
1 in your pockets. During other
i songs you stamped your feet. At
| one point in the last song every
I one threw their salads up into
the air. All the salads landed on
the rushees. It was really aw-'
fully effective. After lunch they1
sat in the living room. The fra
ternity members sat down care
fully so that their ASUO sox
showed. The rushees did not sit
down. They milled nervously
about in the middle of the room.
When it was time to go a
brass band appeared and
played some stirring fraternity
music. The fraternity members
stood on one another’s should
ers and yelled “We’ll see you
again this evening!”
Deep in their withered hearts,
the rushees doubted that very
much.
Campus Commentator
Will Leave University
»y JOft (MKUNER
Ex-Emerald Editor
And what exactly can one say
about Bob Funk after ‘'Seven
Years at the Zoo?"
One might acclaim his mere
longevity as a student at the
University of Oregon. Robert
Norris Funk enrolled at the Uni
versity as a freshman in the fall
of 1948, a rather tentative jour
nalism major from Ukiah, Calif.
Now after seven years, he is
leaving the campus. In the mean
time he has become a campus
fixture second only to the Pio
neer Father.
The University in the fall of
1948 was quite a different place
from what it is now. There was
no Carson hall, Student Union,
Commonwealth hall. Science
building or Allen hall. And beer
was sold in Taylor’s and the Side.
But other Oregon students
have been here as long, or near
ly as long, as Funk. What has
made Funk the personality, the
tradition he is today?
One might explain his promi
nence by compiling a list of his
activities.
During his freshman year,
1948-49. Funk was chosen out
standing freshman man in jour
nalism by Sigma Delta Chi. His
freshman activities culminated
in being tapped for Skull and
Dagger that spring.
Funk began a three-year asso
ciation with the Oregana during
his sophomore year, 1949-50. He
was a-asociate editor of The Book
that year and also was editor
of the Ore-Nter at the end of
the school year.
For those who may not think
of Funk as ”a fraternity man it
may come as a surprise to learn
that he was president of Tau
Kappa Epsilon and a member of
the Inter-fratemity council in his
junior year, 1950-51. He was
again associate editor of the Ore
gana and a student member-at
large of the Publications board.
He was tapped for Friars that
spring.
Dining his senior year, 1951
52. Funk held the top campus
position of Oregana editor and
was an ex-officio member of the
Pub board. At the end of the
year he was awarded a Bachelor
of Arts degree in English writ
ing.
In the fall of 1952 Funk en
tered the law school. His first
year at Fenton hall was perhaps
the quietest of his college career.
But he couldn’t remain inactive
long.
The first spark of life in cam
pus politics in several years was
injected into the 1953 ASUO
elections when a group of tongue
in-cheeek law students formed
the Peon Party and nominated
Funk for the ASUO presidency.
In the election Funk trailed
both the AGS and UIS candi
dates, but under the preferential
voting system received a berth
on the new senate as senator-at
large. When Don Collins, ASUO
vice-president left school the
following winter term, Funk was
elected to fill the vacancy by
members of the senate.
This year. Funk’s third year
in the law school, has been one
of his busiest. He is law school
representative on the Student
Union board; president of Phi
Delta Phi, law honorary; mem
ber of the Student Union and
Educational Activities board, and
was on the Canoe Fete steering
committee.
Next week Funk will graduate
second in a class of 17 from the
law school.
Of course, Funk's most con
spicuous activity has so far been
omitted. That is his series of hi
larious Emerald columns which
have kept the campus in an up
roar for the past six years.
Funk began his career as a
columnist in 1949 with “Sopho
more Wisdom.’’ It wasn’t very
good, as he readily admits. The
next year he followed with “Rc:
Hash,4’ still not very good, but
an improvement. They may have
been funny at the time, but in
r^rospect seem to have lost
much of their humor.
It wasn’t until the fall of 1951
that Funk really hit his stride
as a columnist. Following a sum
mer visit to the San Francisco
zoo (where he noticed a great
similarity to the Oregon cam
pus!. Funk re-christened his
column “A Day at the Zoo.” The
laughter hasn’t stopped yet.
But what can be said of Funk
as a columnist? Any commen
tary or criticism of his inimitable
doggerel verse, his sparking al
legories, his witty satires—any
attempt to explain Funk to his
readers would be superfluous.
And so we introduce you to
this special section of Funk col
umns, a compiliation of the hu
mor that has amused and amazed
the Oregon campus for the past
four years. We hope you win
enjoy the Oregon Daily Emer
ald's tribute to Bob Funk.
HUB FUNK
As Peon Leader