On da level

Media

Part of The Carolinian

Title: On da level
Language: English
Source: The Carolinian Volume XVI (Issue No. 5) March 1953
Year: 1953
Rights
Fulltext: yn ON DA£^ This being the last issue ol the "C" lor the current school year. we can fidget only so much and hope that our gentle readers would be (dangblasted!) kind enough to understand us if we get dragooned into tantrums and wind up sniveling over sobbing shenanigans. But don't get us all gnarled up. If anything, we still have a lew kicks left in our systems so that if anyone ever gets booted in the course of this spiel, the assault should please be treated purely as a friendly gesture. Just that! A number of lucky droops are graduating this year after nervous and hectic days of faithfully marching into sporadic pre graduation and post-graduation huddles between parents of these mental slowpokes and their prolessors or their deans. With their graduation assured, these jerks roar into borrowing skir mishes with more or less bene volent and gullible classmates. They borrow almost anything— your coat, tie, socks, and your shirt. Even your last bottle of foul-smelling pomade. And they don't return what they borrow!! Us? We would 'uv gone up that stage too, if that 1! OO ?? pro! didn't get untimely wise! Parents, apart from forking over their hard-earned moola, must also suffer from the un pleasant task of writing notes of forgiveness for their son's or daughter's idiocy and all that! ft's really too bad if the Dean concerned doesn't budge an inch. The darling pampered dottie or sonnie flunks! Vacation days! They play a thousand heavenly symphonies in the ears of truants, loafers, small-time ruffians, idlers, bums, smart alecs and fugitives from Roman Law. . . During the USC Day parade, two carloads ol staffers were the objects of many a cop's ire. Even Doc Solon himself was pretty mad. These impetuous news hawks and newshens, goaded by flash-happy Pentong, tore down upon the streets to the mirth of Delia and Lilia who were with the staff. And Pentong who, to all appearances was dead se rious, climbed posts a la Cheetah to get the right angles but didn't shoot one good pix. "Unprint able.1" boomed the Moderator. Banner gossip: Somebody sweated romantic during the pa rade. Tee hee. "To be or not to be," was only a question until some mercenary yokel got butterflies in his bread basket and priced the query at sixty-four dollars. So, the $64 PAGING THE CPC JESTERS This should make Ripley perk up. The members of the Cebu Press Club, in an overpublicised stunt, committed themselves to offer prizes to the winners of the editorlol contest which they sponsored during the local observance of the National Press Week. Up to this writing the win ners of the tilt have not re ceived their prizes. It must have been a fat, round |oke, so it Is being bruited about. The winners, however, are still hoping that the contest would not turn out to be the year's biggest hoax. question is: "Who was that mum my lumbering up and down the streets during the parade?" That bandaged, plastered, cas tigated Roman Arch, mummy touched off a wave of snickers from the crowd. Why, sez an ex newshound, it even stole the whole show! Ask Lil Tobes and Delia Saguin of Campuscrats fame if the mummy did not throw the staffers into an amusing guessing game. One upped and asked: Suppose the bandages will. . . aw, skip it. Here's a sizzling tip: Ting lamiro has a fancy way ol stick ing cigarettes into his mouth. Gingerly, he lays the roll on his left palm, tugs at his left pulse with the other limb and eureka! The derned smokestick flies into the air and is snatched by his mouse. .. er, that is, his mouth. The rub is in the training. We are trying it and it ain't funny! Some people point accusing (if not sore) fingers at this writer lor having ah, POLITICAL am bitions! My word, ain't it all too flattering? Just because I lam pooned the mail clerk, must I be flattered? Look at me. . . a wine-guzzling low-brow, running for a battered seat in Congress! If you haven't played hooky in your Political Science palavers, you'll remem ber Congress as the house where bills are made and paid for by the people. Surely, I'd like to heaven to be a pot-bellied, lynx-eyed Diputado. Imagine, bay, I'll take hearty swigs of beer, nibble on "hot" potatoes, swipe firecrackers, expedite im migration papers, crown barrio pulchritudes who will come handy as queridas, and go on a globe-trotting rampage. It's all bravado with a modicum of fi libusters and a good grip on chicanery, see? Just why there isn't a Supreme Student's Council in USC is be yond us. We see no reason why there is no such council where students can learn the intricacies of government. Besides, we have in these hyar parts a chock-full of political loud-mouths and clowns who will make Congress a poor second fiddle in buf foonery! Through the effort ol far-think ing pen-grippers, The College Editors' Guild of this Southern dust-phalt jungle was organized (Continued on page S8) Page 8 THE CAROLINIAN ON DA LEVEL. . . (Continued from page 8) in a conference held at a local university. We have high hopes lor this association because we believe that the CEGS means turkey in local college journalism. In fact, the different editors that compose the CEGS have come up with the maiden issue of their of ficial organ, THE COLLEGE TEMPER. It is published once in every two months. For the rec ord, it may be said that the CEGS out-CEGed the CEG of the Phil ippines. Please repeat the line and please examine your tongues. . . At press time, the Catholic populace is still boiling over the revelation in The Sentinel, pur porting to show that three top Edu cation officials are hatching on a macabre plan of eliminating Religious Instruction. Tch, tch.. . If the charges be found to hold water, we respectfully suggest that these officials be awarded charity tickets to Moscow with our sincerest compliments! Students are showing healthy signs of interest for newspapers. They are showing. Period. Just inch over to a serious-miened newspaper hog and you'll jin him in inter-stellar hazards with Buck Rogers or Exmark. He doesn't give a dee about news items, you know. And what's more, if you just wait long enough, he'll tap you on your shoulder and borrow your pen. Don't frown. Just give with the pen so he will not purloin the crossword puzzle section. The writer knows where of he speaks. Many a recurrent theme of gripes from certain quarters is the alleged domination of law students on the pages of the Carolinian. The E-in-C himself was a law student, now turned Liberal for reasons unknown even to the missus. Sssshl! Bulldozing for four gruelling years of stu dent-lawyering, he was just about to get the sheepskin when he found out that he wanted to be a loyal Liberal first. Wonder what took him so doggone long. In the present set-up of the "C", most of the pen-sloshers are Law studes to boot. (Continued on page 39) NOCTURNE. ■ . (Continued from, page 18) There you were, with the voice I longed to hear all day. You smiled your forgiveness and the world was forgotten. Did I really hurt you that afternoon? There was fire in your eyes, that too ended suddenly. Your husky and soft voice always makes my heart go thumping and aflutter. How many times had we been to gether after that? Or had you al ready picked me out. I was madly in love with you. You must have sensed it. Sometimes you were far from me. Sometimes so near and so enticing. Nights I slept listlessly. Wanting the morrow to come. The day's end seemed so long. Walk ing with you. Talking with you. Yes, I had told you about my girl friends when you asked. Of Gloria, the daughter of the richest man in town and why I couldn't dare say to her how I felt. There was that unseen barrier that sepa rated us with a finality. Gloria and their kind took it for granted that their life was the only kind. They don't know and care to know how the others lived. If ever that should come to me, it should come with a meaning. There has to be a reason for it. How the days and weeks flew by. Nine to five weekdays. Eight to two Saturdays. I kept my nose to the daily grind for I wanted to learn more. Saturday afternoons. Sun days. Again with you. The surcease to the pace I have been setting for myself. Times when you begged leave not to be with me. Insane jealousy reared its head within me for no reason at all. You had head aches or you've got to be with your mother to the province. And then December. Cool, nights | and balmy days. The world awak ening to something joyous. The sense of anticipation in the chil dren's eyes, the hustle and activity in everyone. Misa de Gallos. Our first Christmas together. The Office crowd's Christmas eve party. . . and you were mine. .. remember? You gave me your package. Each one of us had one. We were to exchange gifts together. Just a small one, with all the pretty rib bons. "Merry Christmas Ric." I took the package and opened it. Your eyes were on me. Questing eyes. Slowly I unravelled the lovely ribbons, inside. ... a handwrought VACATIONS, AAAHHH! . . . (Continued from page 31) like to talk about those days when Andres Bonifacio and Tandang Sora were still in circulation, or they talk about those days when swim ming was had in balintawaks. Well. . . well, it's good to be re viewed on Philippine history. Signs of city life are however shown there. Like for example, pedal-pushers and jeans. These are always in vogue but they are worn by old men while plowing fields and harvesting. With these various mountain sceneries, the international fair booths can start packing and leave for their respective countries. . . sour grapes. However, I will bring along with me treasured copies of The Caroli nian as souvenir to lessen the longing and yearning for the school and faces of dear Carolinians. It I will also bring back memories of ; the serenading of dormitories, counting posts in the streets, the i parties, jam sessions, excursions, I picnics, barn dances, and miscel| laneous activities in school and out of school. So, friends and classmates, gra duates and undergraduates, ends another schoolyear. With a Shakes pearian "Parting is such sweet sor row" attitude I wish you all a very happy vacation. Don't grow too fat, for you might have a difficult times enrolling yourselves. You know what I mean. Just pack up your things and take it on the lam. Good-bye, I hate to see you go butaaaaa.... have good time!! Bueno.... somos diferentes.... er. . .er. .. . Mi cafetai. . . hasta la vista!! heart-shaped locket of solid gold. "Open it Ric" you asked me. A cameo likeness of you inside and the inscription.. . From me to Ric, with love. There was love in your eyes, lips half parted. I just took you in my arms. The hunger of you was in that kiss. You didn't resist. You kissed me back. "I love you" that was all that I could say. Soft and warm, you snugled up to me whis pered my name. Pushing me gent ly from you, holding me at arms length, your eyes shining with me.... I'll never forget that night. And now this. You are Evelyn Orozco. Evelyn Maria Lydia Oroz co y Aragon. The year's debutan(Continued on page 39) Page 38 THE CAROLINIAN THE YOUTHFUL URGE (Continued from page 34) CAMPUSCRATS. . . (Continued from page 35) ON DA LEVEL. ■ . (Continued from page 38) with the gentleness ol a dawn breeze, and to drawl with a per mission a-la Patricia Neal. Finally if worse comes to worst, one, can only go to the nearest dentist and with the cleanest ol brand-newteeth smile her way on to eternity. There are those, however, who maintain that age not only can be restrained from passing by a clean, cool bath from the good, old Magic Fountain but also by sustaining the original form and symmetry of limbs and body. Thus the birth of Diet-ing. Those under this school start on a valiant mission of self starvation and if one really likes to be a hero, one gets a coffin for a medal. Hero-casualties of this in vention, however, are becoming less and less with the advent of another science aimed at achieving the same end — the preservation of the "morning glory." Here many novel ties are introduced ranging from coffee, chocolates, multi-vitamins, pills, massage, to early mornings and late evenings. While it is true that this dietethical device for capturing perpe tual exuberance really has its merits and possibilities, still there is to account the forever youthful fact that Nature always has her own way of showing no matter what, and considering that nowhere in this world is there a clime wherein everybody isn't crazy about eating, it is no small wonder to note why some would rather be funereally young than gastronomically old. le, voted most lovely and charming by all society editors. You must have had your fun. Why didn't you tell me Lyd? Why did this have to go on? I should have known when you give me the address yesterday. And I shouldn't have come. That would have been better. The full impact didn't fall on me until I was at the gate to your mansion. I stood there, how long? Dizzily I heard you call me. Ric, Ric. You were radiant in all your beauty. You pulled me inside. You said you were waiting for me to be sure. My head hadn't cleared up then. You presented me to your Mother, your circle of friends. They ac knowledged the introduction with an light-footed dancers who pirouetted and waltzed around this enchanted garden. PHIL RUIZ entertained the audience immensely with his singing. He appealed especially to the teen-agers who were simply crazy over his rendition of modern hits. To introduce something novel and ra dical some commerce studes decided to transform the stage into a cotton field in of Virginia.... they gave uS a picture of the niggers breaking the monotony of work by tap-dancing. Brother! it was so hard to recognize the real identity of the dancers. You know who those pink mouthed, colored folks were? Here they are: GEORGE ARCILLA, LOLONG PAS CUAL, ELIZA STA. CRUZ (star-dancer) ROSARIO REYES, ANNIE RATCLIFFE, ADELAIDA, LILIA CORCUERA, AURELIA JADULCO, INDALECIA ANDO, and ES TRELLA ZAPANTA. "Tummy" Echivarre... he thought the parade to be too short. "Gosh!" he said "It took us only a few minutes speeding round the City." A coed and a rogue introduced for the first time Ballet Moderne here in USC. The dance which was entitled: "She is working her way thru College" was danced on toes by ESTERLINA MANCAO and EDDY PASCUAL. It was cer tainly an entertaining repertoire. Now it is not only going to be a mere so-long but a good-bye to you all. Say how about joining us in saying: Va cation here we come!!!"... Exams!........ pooh! why think about ’em? Pooh! Pooh! — Nocturne — (Continued from page 38) indulging mien. Did they acknowl edge the man? the unknown one? Could this be the latest plaything of Eve? What they had in mind, I don't know and don't care to know. Now I understood all with the full impact. The nights you pleased headaches. The days you were away. Then that day, a year ago before two days before Christmas. That could not have been anybody else but you coming down the car. You were with your society clique. I rushed up to you, calling you. . . Lyd. . . Lyd... You just stared at me and thru me. In a haughty voice you asked me if I was ad dressing you. I felt so small. However, through no fault ol our own, some students got cold feet. Others didn't give two chips about unveiling their journalistic 'talents. We assure our readers that we (not I alone) would only be too glad to eat our words (bunk/) if we come back next year and find windfalls of con tributions—not sickly doggerels and smelly prose like we have in this column. Pentong, our flash-happy pho tographer, harps on the same sour tune ever since the USC Day Parade was over. With the agility of a chimp, he had the temerity of staging an acro batic one-man show by climbing a concrete post just so that he could give an unusual angle ic one of his shots. In so doing, the poor joker crushed his watch against the post, to the sadistic delight of the other staffers. Poor Pentong, tchk, tchk! Later, he went to the extent of requesting the other staffers to chip in in paying his bill for the repair of his ailing gadget. No dice, no soup, ergo, drop dead! Before we end this drivel, we'd like to know it Flor Rombawa from out there in Pangasinan still scans the pages of The Caroli nian. And to our McKinley-bound boys, we give this parting ad vice. Remember that Armi is ex plosive stuff. Basta. . . Again I had mistaken Evelyn Oroz co for Lydia Aragon. That was just unbearable, I fled from the scene. I could imagine the fun your friends had. How did you ex plain that to me the next day? You are a borned actress, your eyes were expressionless and questioning when I related to you what hap pened. You looked surprised. Is this a game amongst you? A clock chimed eleven o'clock. Almost midnight and the midnight mass. Church bells merrily ringing. The night was clear and cool. The air was soothing to the tired mind and body of Ric plodding to no where. Shoulders down and feel(Continued on page 41) MARCH, 1953 Page 39