Page 2/The Battalion/Thursday, December 11,1986
Opinion
‘Plastics’ may not be a bad idea after all
Mr. Braddock:
“Ben, what are
you doing?”
Ben: “Well, I
would say that I’m
just drifting here
in the pool.”
Mr. Braddock:
“Why?”
Ben: “It’s very
comfortable just to
drift here.”
Mr. Braddock:
Karl
Pallmeyer
“Have you thought about graduate
school?”
Ben: “No.”
Mr. Braddock: “Would you mind tell
ing me then, what those four years of
college were for? What was the point of
all that hard work?”
Ben: “You got me.”
Those of you who have seen Mike
Nichols’ classic 1967 film, “The Gradua
te,” probably remember that scene. For
some of us that scene holds a special sig
nificance.
For four and a half years, including
summer school. I’ve been attending this
wonderful University. I’ve gone
through five semesters of football
games of varying quality, four semesters
of spring fever, four summer semesters
of sweat, 146 hours of classes passed, 13
hours of classes flunked, three Q-drops,
hundreds of tests, dozens of papers,
plenty of projects, half a million parking
tickets, billions of books, a bunch of al
bums, a lot of movies, tons of concerts,
hundreds of hangovers, rounds of road
trips, scores of parties, a couple of dates,
six semesters of dorm life, four semes
ters of apartment life, one semester of
duplex life, two semesters of house life,
nine roommates, one cat and a big per
centage of my father’s wealth.
My college career has contained some
of the best of times and some of the
worst of times. It has had its ups and
downs. There has been good and bad.
You can add whatever cliche you want
here.
Graduation is considered to be a
great achievement. I couldn’t have
made it without the help of several peo
ple who have been teachers or friends
or both. I want to take this opportunity
to thank some of these people.
First of all, I would never have been
here if it weren’t for my parents. They
have given me almost everything I’ve
needed to get through school. My fam
ily has been supportive of everything
I’ve done and never pressured me to do
anything I didn’t want to do.
I probably would not have been able
to make the adjustment from the small
time life of Meridian to life in the big
university environment of Texas A&M
without Coach G. (a.k.a. Gilbert Gutier
rez).
Coach G. was a science teacher and
coach at Meridian High School when I
went there. He came to A&M the same
year as I to work on aPh.D.
I wouldn’t have made it through my
freshman year if it weren’t for Coach G.
inspiring me to go on.
During my first year in the dorm, I
met a group of guys who introduced me
to social life at college. The unofficial
leader of the group was Josh Johnson. I
learned a lot from Josh, Brian Daves,
Mark Rose, Dick O’Leary, Tim Howard,
Frank Reyna and all the other guys who
lived in the dorm that year. In my three
years in the dorm I met a lot of other
great guys including Kent Hutson, Ben
Barnett, Kevin Mosby, Larry Huff,
Brian Nethery, Brad Sheffield, Mike
Lotz and others too numerous to men
tion.
I’ve been pretty lucky with room
mates. I’m not the easist person to live
with, but I need to thank Frank Reyna,
Josh Johnson, Lee Ingram, Kent Hut
son, Tim Howard, Paul Sun, Brian
Daves, Mark Rose and Brad Sheffield
for putting up with me as long as they
did.
Comedian’s despair is not
a humorous predicament
Don't delay, send good,clean jokes immediately
I have a major
problem and per
haps some of you
out there in Read-
erland can help
me.
It’s this: Each of
the past two years,
I have recorded
an album of what I
consider to be
funny material.
Enough were sold,
“Be serious,” the girl replied. “You’re
fat, you’re ugly and your wardrobe is
atrocious.”
So the guy goes on a diet and loses 80
pounds. He has a face lift and a hair
transplant and he goes to one of those
tanning salons and he buys himself an
entirely new wardrobe.
If the truth were known, I probably
would use dirty material, but I get the
feeling the country is tiring of Richard
Pryor grabbing his privates and of the
arogant sleazebagness of Eddie Mur-
phy.
Also, I can’t write or say a lot of dirty
words as long as my mother’s alive.
Lewis
Grizzard
He goes back to the girl and asks,
‘Now what do you think?”
the producer tells me, to warrant a third
album.
My problem is I’m having quite a dif
ficult time finding 45 more minutes of
clean-to-semi-clean stories.
People tell me a lot of jokes. Most of
them begin by saying, “Here is some
thing you can use on your next album,”
and then they proceed to tell me a joke
that would embarrass Richard Pryor.
She is amazed. “What a hunk,” she
says to him, and agrees to a date.
He arrives at her door as the limo
awaits. She emerges, radiant, her eyes
full of the promise of a never-to-be-for
gotten evening. The man has never
been happier in his life.
As they walk to the limo, lightning
strikes the man. In his dying moments,
he looks to the sky and asks, “Why now,
God? Why now on the happiest day of
my life?”
There is a place for clean humor. Bill
Cosby is a riot, and he tells about cook
ing breakfast for his kids. Johnny Car-
son is funny, and he has to deal with the
NBC censors.
I think it is more difficult to be clean
and funny than dirty and funny. Dirty
funny can rely on shock. Clean funny
better have a punch line or it’s in big
trouble.
Here’s my plan:
The only good clean joke I’ve head
recently was about a guy who fell in love
with a beautiful girl and begged her to
go out wih him.
God looks down and says, “Sorry,
Sam, I didn’t recognize you.”
I hereby announce The First (and
probably only) Lewis Grizzard Joke
Contest, open to anybody who can write
a letter.
There must be thousands of stories
like that, but they rarely come my way.
The idea is that if you have a joke you
wouldn’t mind telling in front of your
mother, write it down and mail it to me.
The Battalion
(USPS 045 360)
Member of
Texas Press Association
Southwest Journalism Conference
The Battalion Editorial Board
Cathie Anderson, Editor
Kirsten Dietz, Managing Editor
Loren Steffy, Opinion Page Editor
Frank Smith, City Editor
Sue Krenek, News Editor
Ken Sury, Sports Editor
Editorial Policy
The Battalion is a non-profit, self-supporting newspaper oper
ated as a community service to Texas A&M and Bryan-Collecre Sta-
Opinions expressed in The Battalion are those of the editorial
board or the author, and do not necessarily represent the opinions
of Texas A&M administrators, faculty or the Board of Regents.
The Battalion also serves as a laboratory newspaper for students
in reporting, editing and photography classes within the Depart
ment of J ournalism.
The Battalion is published Monday through Friday during
Texas A&M regular semesters, except for holiday and examination
periods.
Mail subscriptions are $17.44 per semester, $34.62 per school
year and $36.44 per full year. Advertising rates furnished on re
quest.
Our address: The Battalion, Department of Journalism, Texas
A&M University, College Station, TX 77843-4111.
Second class postage paid at College Station, TX 77843.
POSTMASTER: Send address changes to The Battalion, De-
artment of Journalism, Texas A&M University, College Station
77843-4111.
Mail your joke (or jokes) to Lewis
Grizzard Clean Joke Contest, 66540
Powers Ferry Road, Suite 325, Atlanta,
Ga 30309.
parti
TX '
I have made a lot of close friends
through clubs and organizations I have
participated in. I would like to thank
those members of the Meridian Home
town Club, Aston Dorm Council, Stu
dent Art Film Society, SWAMP, Stu
dents Against Apartheid, KANM,
Society of Professional Journalists and
anything else I’ve been involved in. I
also would like to thank the staff of the
short-lived Video Aggieland. I wish I
would have had the opportunity to work
with them. Super big thanks to the en
tire staff of The Battalion, some of the
closest friends I’ve ever had.
There are lots of other friends I have
made through various sources who I
also would like to thank. There is one
special person who has recently made
my life brighter and deserves several
words of thanks.
Most of my professors have been ex
tremely helpful, both inside and outside
of class. I would like to think all of them,
but there are two. Dr. Terry Anderson
and Dr. Larry Hickman, who I consider
to be good friends as well as good teach
ers.
I know I’ve neglected to mention
some people. It’s not that I have forgot
ten about them, it’s just that if I listed
everyone it would fill this entire paper. I
haven’t been avoiding anybody, I just
haven’t had the time to hang;
with everyone as much as I would
For the first time in 22 years,din
step is up to me. My life hasbeenE
ing a set pattern until now. Nowii
turn to make a decision.
A1
I could take Mr. McGuire’sadii
Ben and go into plastics. I couldg
into the “real world” and joinil<
race of the nine-to-five scene.Icon
to grad school and collect anodic
gree. 1 could become an alcholit
and stand on street cornersbeggii
money to buy another bottle oil
Turkey.
PA
There are many options Icoii
sue, but I have decided to tali
wimpy way out. Tm goingtostavlf
least one more semester, take
classes, write for The Battalionui,
looking for a real job in the real Jl|
Sorry to disappoint you.
Karl Pallmeyer is a graduating®
lism major and a columnist hi
Battalion.
Getting hitched
is a bad proposal
OJS'
officials
vard
ainst i
1‘Thei
volved,'
witii dir
For the fourth
time this semester,
I found myself
having to google
and oogle over
Margaret
Artz
Gxust Columnist
someone’s third finger, left hand.
“Oh, Suzie-Q, it’s beautiful! I’m so ex
cited for you! Johnboy’s such a great
guy! You’re so lucky!”
As the crowd of female well-wishers
grew, I let others take over clucking du
ties. This is one of life’s situations that
calls for tact, diplomacy and the ability
to hold back what I really want to say —
are you crazy? You’re too darn young to
get MMM . . . MMM . . . You’re too
young to get hitched!
It’s that traumatic stage of life when
friends start dropping like flies —
straight down the aisle to the land of
joint bank accounts, TV Guide, and le
gal sex. No longer will their budgets al
low nights on the town or decent beer —
and, worse yet, they’ll be happy that
way.
But the singles of the world know bet
ter. Marital bliss won’t be in my game
plan for quite some time. Maybe it’s a
form of post-pubescent rebellion, but I
look forward to being an “old maid” for
a few years. Building a
career, furnishing my
own place in my own
taste, paying my own
way and being respon
sible for my life are my
goals right now.
agencie*
As one of the lucky ones,wbBjL ( jj s
eiits have stayed together for air j writ ing
sc.ms. | (.ml im.tgiiu' gettmtK'fjections
11 .ilss.iss w ,i s s( tiiirt liing 1 rt\t(iJail ol .n
heard about, but I never real]'T ^°J i j s 1
■ , i^Bv. Bil
(lose riKountri with anyonefefT ()i
been through it until thissumnic:m rccc ) (
come to Reality 101, you shelterttlnew-tax
ive child. I “I ask
I carpooled w ith two recenld':^ saici
and one lady who never vM
marry. Five days a week, an h®
half a day, trapped in the cant 1
people. Listening. Learning.
I tried to ignore their bitter
tried to write them off as M
middle-aged women — excepifi
the norm. But I knew I was
myself . I remember tryingtoligte
conversation one day by I
how all my high-school girlfrieri'
getting married and how happv^l
cited I was for them.
D
Ti.
“Don’t worry, they’ll all bes
again in five years,” one of the*
said. She made me mad. But ski
made a valid point. Almost
of all marriages today end ind
kids are involved, they usually^
Mom. From what I’ve seen onT
ing a single par®
bed of roses. Dis*
finately is notion*
Trading these years
of independence for
the hope of marital sta-
bility would be throwing away my
chance to take charge of my life. Ob
viously, not everyone thinks the way I
do.
“We just couldn’t wait any longer,”
said a girlfriend of mine who, I was su-
prised to learn, had been married a
year. A mild-mannered student by day,
she lives in married student housing
and actually cooks things that don’t
come frozen.
If I use it on the nextalbum, I’ll see to
it you get a free album, mention on the
album cover, and perhaps even some of
my jams and jellies.
Decision of the judge— me — will be
final. In other words, if your joke isn’t
selected, I don’t want to hear a lot of
whining.
Act now. I’m running out of time.
Copyright 1986, Cowles Syndicate
“When you meet the right person,
you know it,” she said with a big smile.
I find comfort in that thought. Some
day, I’ll be walking down the street and
I’ll see him. Everything will come to
gether. In his eyes I’ll see a three-bed
room, two-bath house surrounded by a
white picket fence, with a golden re
triever in the yard and two BMWs in the
garage. Mutual funds. Night classes.
Baby-boomer heaven. But is it for me?
No way. At least not for a while. I’m
perfectly happy having a good time with
my buddies, planning for the future
and enjoying the present. When I fi
nally do take the plunge, I don’t want to
have any “what-ifs.”
At 22, I’m still a kid. Graduation and
everything that comes with it (unem
ployment, moving back in with Mom
and Dad) is here. I don’t know what I
want to do or where I want to live. I’ve
got some vague ideas, of course, but no
life plan. Making a permanent commit
ment at this point in my life would prob
ably up the ratings of Divorce Court a
few years down the road.
Yet I’m still hap
people who get®
I hope for them.
them. I admire a
who is so sure ato
aspect of his or h« :
this stage of the
have trouble deciding what to#
the morning, and these peo;
together enough to makeadf
will affect them the rest of their!
least they think they do.
I’ve been dating a guy fort*®
now. We go to games together
gether, study together, depend*
other. We’re best friends. Butt®'
is not in the picture. Relations^
not an “if-then” situation (if lo 11
marriage). People are constant!'
me if we’re making any plat®
we’ve been dating so long. Are"’!
ding?
“Doesn’t that bother you?’ 1 "
friend as the glare from her
quired engagement ring te
blinded me. I calmly and pok 1
swered, “No way.” It’s amazin?
that in this day and age, som®
think that all women want mam 2 ?
V
My best friend from higl
thinks the same way I do. She J
ing anyone right now, soshep
the lowdown on the singles seen®
“It’s scary,” she told merecc |1,! ;
soon as you find a fun guy. J
mentioning the ‘M-word.’ ’’G^j
For me, the future is wideopj
take a job offer anywhere ind
without having to consult my ^
present spouse. And I wilU 01
enjoy life one day at a time. Aid ;
few more years.
Margaret Artz is a senior)
major.