sally hodgkinson
even ediors get the blues
Quotes are the spice of a story. Those select
ed words sandwiched between “. . . and . . . ” are
supposed to color a story, bringing technicolor to
the black-and-white pages of drab newsprint.
A sampling of spicy, colorful, crazy and oth
erwise humorous quotes:
“Would you like to run a grocery with the Black
Panthers storming down the street?” asks Bob
Hayes, owner of a campus gorcery store that
weathered the ’60s. “How can you sell tuna fish
when you’ve got a guy in the store with a machine
gun and pistol hanging across his back?”
“If they’ve promised you the world, get it in
writing,” suggests Josh Marquis, local consumer
protection expert.
“Talking about music is like singing about
football,” says Jackson Browne.
On the Reagan administration: “I have rarely
seen such a collection of cheerless, drab and
intellectually absurd people,” says Larry Birns,
director of the Council on Hemispheric Affairs.
And Ted Kennedy on Ronald Reagan: “He
cannot run with his foot stuck squarely in his
mouth.”
And the crazies’ quotes:
“If you refuse to grow while you are here, you
will get a re-run,” says Laeh Garfield, reincarna
tion and past lives specialist.
"I want to have a telephone I can call up a
dolphin on — Diaf-a-Dolphin,” says porpoise and
isolation tank researcher John Lilly.
And a down-home quote from author Jim
Hightower: “You can put earrings on a hog, but
you can’t hide its ugliness.”
The say-it-straight quotes:
“Many reporters can’t dig their way out of a
paper bag," says local investigative reporter Jerry
Uhrhammer.
English Prof. Glenn Love’s view of term paper
peddlers is simple: “They’re the scum of the
earth.”
“I didn't think University money was in
volved,” says Ron Billingslea, a former assistant
coach recently aquitted of theft chages. “Maybe I
was a fool.” Yeah.
And governor press aide Denny Miles on
student protests and petitions: ‘‘You could
probably get 200 signatures on a petition to make
the sun go down.”
The it-isn’t-easy-to-be-an-administrator
quotes:
“With Texas money and our taste, we’d be the
best University in the West,” says Univeristy Pres.
Paul Olum.
“Students are not the end-all of the Universi
ty,” says former University Pres. William Boyd.
“Knowledge is the end-all. If all the students went
away, the University would still be vital to society.”
From Boyd again, “Universities, when they’re
properly going about their business, are apt to
look subversive.”
Tactless Quote of the Year:
Higher education board member Edith Green
says the $35 difference between a 10 percent
tuition increase and a 15 percent increase won’t
make much difference to students. Quipped
Green, four days after John Lennon’s death,
“students may have to buy a few less Lennon
albums.”
In the words of Olum: “It’s easy to sneer.”
vours
Correction
A typing error was made in a
letter in the May 5 Emerald from
Beth and Daniel Danforth. The
word "unhappy” was inadvertantly
typed for "happy." The opening
paragraph of the letter should have
read:
"When we read that the IFC was
cutting back subsidies given to the
limited elitist campus-centered
childcare, and instead spreading
that money around to other student
parents, we were very happy. Even
in the dark era of Ronald Reagan,
there are glimmerings of hope ”
Bum rap
I feel compelled to respond to the letter
that requested the expulsion of tran
sients from the EMU TV room. The auth
or, in addition to insensitivity, also
revealed a gross lack of knowledge con
cerning transients, making it necessary
for me to balance this narrow and in
doctrinated stereotype with a more
realistic view.
There are many reasons why people
become transients: getting a piece of the
road before settling down, searching for
a meaning in life, and problems in their
heads which prevent them from func
tioning within the prescribed guidelines
of society are among the major causes of
transient behavior. These people must
not be cast out like a pile of garbage, for
they are as human as the rest of us and in
equal need of consideration and under
standing.
The widely held belief that transients
are "lazy bums" and/or criminals is
based on a very small percentage of
those who actually belong to these ca
tegories and is no more accurate than
the labels, "black hoodlum," "cheap
Jew" and "hippie pervert," which serve
to dilute social consciousness and keep
our various cultures at odds with one
another.
This issue means a lot to me, for I
experienced life as a transient for five
years and was often the victim of these
unfair atitudes. I knew I had something to
offer society and that I was doing what I
needed to do for my own very good
reasons, but is was difficult to overcome
indoctrinated prejudices from my low
position on the social totem pole In the
last four years, due to a combination of
my own efforts and the understanding of
some wonderful people, I have been
slowly building a healthy life for myself in
the Eugene community This can happen
to other transients as well, but the per
'There was a Tims when anting made
SlVENI THE CHANCE,
ULD
X
— BUT | ALWANS KNEW "THAT,
CWN GAME.'
centage of those who make the change
will, to some extent, be a mirror of the
attitudes with which society confronts
them. Let’s think about these things.
Percy Hilo
Freshman, CSPA
Rave review?
Referring to the theater review (April
30), I must congratulate the drama critic,
C. Hanson. Her outline of the plot was
both thorough and complete It is plea
sant to see such a thorough job By the
way, when is she going to start reviewing
books? I have been wondering about the
endings of some new releases.
Oliver Neibel
Senior, finance & psychology
Shelley Smith
Senior, psychology
Not so (Cre)swell
Your reference to Creswell as a
"friendly city" in the May 1 issue of the
Emerald surprised me. Not that Creswell
is unfriendly; I don't know the town. I'm
merely somewhat surprised that one too
chic to frequent one of Creswell's three
restaurants would bother to go there
As a commuting resident of Marcola,
an unincorporated logging town without
restaurants, I’ve heard snide remarks
and seen blank looks when I tell people
where I’m from. I don't mind the curiosity;
being raised in a small town is becoming
a rarer experience. But I resent being
patronized as if I just crawled out of a
Georgia-Pacific log
The writers among you will comment
upon my lack of appreciation for style. I
have heard in my journalism classes that
the type of snottiness you displayed May
1 passed for “new journalism" in the
1960s. But your reporter had neither the
style of a Joan Didion nor the invention of
a Kurt Vonnegut Jr. with which to de
scribe Creswell.
To flaunt your superior upbringing by
reducing a group of hard-working people
to “millworkers guzzling coffee" only
shows me how little you have to flaunt. As
my southern forebears would have said,
"Honey, that’s tacky.” It’s certainly less
classy than Dairy Queen.
What makes it particularly ironic is that
your reporter would receive a prompt
hand-spanking if those he or she de
scribed in Creswell had been black,
Buddhist or homosexual The story
would have been "discriminatory." To all
too many of us, however, what you did on
May 1 doesn’t smack of bigotry. It’s
merely cute.
Gayla Leopard
Senior, journalism
Editor’s note: The author of the Creswell
article is a former resident of Creswell, a
graduate of Creswell High School and a
former employee of a Creswell restaurants.
Ample amplitude
Once again there looms before us the
spectre of another “William Folk Fes
tival.” I use the sarcasm “spectre” due to
having been at the thing last year. Can
you dig it? A huge stage replete with
giant amplifiers set in the grass behind
the EMU, for the performance of dul
ciner, banjo and harmonica music,
spectators respectfully seated a good 75
feet from the musicians. I mean really!
Wouldn’t it be a heck of a lot nicer to
have these folkies playing at the same
latitude as their listeners, with people
sort of fanned out around the unam
plified sound? Is this a small point, that
technology in the form, I repeat, of an
imposing stage and pompous amplifiers,
is essential to the best interests of a
down-home folk show? You be the judge.
Paul L. Rubin
Rutgers, ’68