Brooklyn Technical High School - Blueprint Yearbook (Brooklyn, NY)

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73 By GEORGE KIRCH. D62 What a delightful cache of miscellaneous possessions are to be found in bureau drawers. Many years ago, I presume, bureau drawers were designed with the express purpose of keeping together a person's haberdashery and clothing. Unfortunately in the course of time fespecially in the case of some small misguided soulsj the bureau drawer has become a first class depository for all kinds of articles, large and small, which eventually displace the articles for which the drawer was originally intended. In the course of my life, I make bold to boast, no drawer of any description has seen as varied or abundant a stream of things as has my bureau drawer. When I was very small, pennies and nickels which were given to me had a way of finding their way into my drawer. These would accumulate over a period of time until I would have a small fortune. But. once in a while the wealth I had saved like a little, hard-working squirrel, would disappear. Imagine the tears-the consterna- tion. Then my mother would appear and, after a few minutes' search in my drawer, the lost would be found. To this very day the situation remains the same, only now I have graduated to the class of quarters and half-dollars. To a youthful idealist, his bureau drawer is his sacred Sanctum. The disordered mixture of clothing and more substantial materials may not look like much, but many a time it is the hiding place for deep dark secrets. Books and jackknives bought without parental approval are slipped between undershirts. Poor report cards rest among the pajamas. In spite of the seeming disorder, a violation of sanctity will be noticed immediately by the indignant victim. Getting back to the original function of bureau drawers, I can sympathize with the hardvworking mothers who shy away from putting clean pressed shirts into a mael- strom such as the ordinary drawer presents upon opening. I canit tell you how a mother feels when she finds her little tyrant's pet turtle crawling around in his clean linen, but I imagine she probably considers anything from forceful objection to capital punishment. When a boy reaches adolescence his drawer still maintains its function as a hiding place, but the character of the hidden changes. Perhaps it's a picture of a movie actress or a girl he admires. Perhaps it's a letter-a very treasured letter. At any rate, he is no longer afraid of punishment, but of embarrassment. When his mother rearranges his drawer for him, the reactions are liable to be explosive, but his face will surely be red. And so, man goes on through life, and when he needs a vault in which to secrete personal foolishnesses, he turns to his bureau drawer. Yes, they're a great institution, bureau drawers, only I donit see why they have to put so much clothing in them. 28

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BALANCED PERSONALITY It is generally considered that anyone who would judge a book by its cover. that is. anything, by its superficial appearance, is something of a fool, yet I heard of an instance in which someone did just this. This person had a friend whom he considered a jovial light-hearted fellow who never thought of anything more serious or problematic than how to get invited to another party. As it happened, they were coming home late one evening when the jocular person became very serious. And this person was surprised! But why? lt is ridiculous to suppose that because a person does not go around spouting erudition and learning, he cannot do it if he wants to, that because someone does not open his heart and soul to everyone he chances to meet, he has no heart and soul, that the majority of the populace of the world is idiotic because it acts idiotic most of the time. Yet this false concept is prevalent among those who serve the public, some magazines and most radio programs for instance, who would never treat their readers or listeners as even moderately intelligent individuals though it meant saving them from bankruptcy. Of course, there is the opposite extreme too. Some people think it sad that every- thing is not deeply sentimental or intellectual slush, and consider all Hippancy unjustifiable. This is as fallacious an opinion as the other. A gold ring which is mostly lead would not be saleable, but a pure gold ring could not be sold either, because it does not wear well . K. H. POINT OF VIEW Some time ago While on my palm I lay below No soothing balm A maple tall and grand, His worried soul could know, When, from the tree, With nervous dread, A sparrow wee Away he fled. Fell upon my hand. I was an awesome foe! He was aware Encounters, then, Of danger there: Of mighty men The unknown, great and grim, With ghastly mystery, For how could he, May, after all So weak, so wee, Be just as small Know what confronted him? As that one was-to me. Kenneth C. Holden, F62 27

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f 9 H By JERRY GREFINBERG, A61 The two middle-aged business men were seated in their car on the deserted high- way. discussing the affairs of their day at the office. NI was worrying a little about my Consolidated Oil stock, Archibald Turner was saying importantly, until I got news of the discovery of that new gusher in Texas. When I . . .H William Arkwright looked expectantly up at his companion, and found him staring into the nearby field with an incredulous look in his widened eyes. '6Bill, he said hoarsely, as if he were afraid of what he was about to say, Look out there and tell me what you see. And with a wavering finger he pointed toward the grassy meadow. Puzzled, Arkwright strained his eyes in the gathering dusk, but could distinguish nothing extraordinary after peering around for a half-minute or so. He was about to turn back to his friend with a laugh, when he caught sight of something that made his skin creep. Great Scott! he exclaimed in wonder. Midgets! And sure enough, onto the white concrete marched a batallion of tiny, uniformed men scarcely a foot high, marching in perfect formation and carrying strange-looking transparent cylinders. Both men sat open-mouthed in astonishment as several of the miniature oflicers pointed their cylinders at the car and then led their company majestically down the highway. At last Archibald Turner recovered enough to seize the wheel and step hurriedly on the starter, mutterin Let's get out of here before the pink elephants come. But as he put is foot on the accelerator, the motor coughed and died. Strange.7' he said wonderingly. uThat never happened before. And he jammed the starter down forcefully. The car gave a groan, three squeaks, and a crash, and g: '73 h two bewildered men found themselves sitting on an upholstered front seat, staring perplexedly around them at the heap of junk which had been, up to a few seconds ago, a luxurious sedan. 'W 'X' 'll' Patrolman Donahue was cursing again. Of course, being stationed at the busiest intersection of the city was a good excuse for his giving vent to his feelings fre- quently, but this time he was boiling. If another one of those - - women drivers is trying to make a U turn in the middle of the blockf' he ranted as he ran toward the tangle of traffic which was the cause of his wrath, so help me, I ain't responsible for my actions. But suddenly he stopped short and stared. Holy catsli' he breathed unbelievingly. For marching unconcernedly from between two taxicabs came a company of minia- ture soldiers less than twelve inches tall in perfect step, casting about them in every 29