University of Kansas - Jayhawker Yearbook (Lawrence, KS)

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16 THE JAYHAWKER N r . -

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OCTOBER f 9 3 7 15 PUBLISHED FIVE TINES YEflRLY BY THE STUDENT BODY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF KINSRS II RECORD OF EVENTS AND PERSONALITIES UNO fl REVIEW OF CDDIPUS TRENDS RND OPINIONS ROBERT PEflRSON WILLIflm SEITZ S .AKV. This Jayhawker business is in- deed a problem. There ' s nothing exactly like it anywhere. You see, it must be progressive and must keep abreast of most modern pub- lication trends because it is a maga- zine; and it must be conservative, with an eye to permanence, be- cause it is the school annual. The editor hasn ' t a ghost of a chance. All in all, it reminds us of a story that is traditional in China, of an artist who was anxious to know what the public thought of his work. He hit upon the plan of displaying one of his landscapes in the public market, placing under it a sign, reading, Anything in this picture which you do not like, please cross out with the chalk which is provided. The artist let his work lie thus for a day, and each person that came by examined the picture and marked his disap- proval. When the artist came back the next day, he found, to his ter- rible disappointment, that th e en- tire painting presented a uniform surface of white chalk, every detail having been marked out. But the next day the artist, just for an ex- periment, set the painting out again, clean of chalk, with the in- structions for passerbys to mark over any detail they liked particu- larly well. The next morning he again returned, to again find every detail covered with chalk. Which is precisely the story, we believe, of putting out a magazine like the Jayhawker. Remember the REVO- LUTION advertising placards with which we plastered the Hill earlier in the Fall? Well, on it we ex- claimed, It ' s all new! It ' s strik- ing! referring to the Jayhawker, of course. The other day we passed by one of these posters in the Ad building on which, under these ef- fusions, some cynic had scrawled in pencil, Same old stuff. That hurt us. It really did. And we would like to call that gentleman ' s attention to this first issue of the new Jayhawker. We ' d like to point out that the make-up is entirely different, featuring the smartest new type faces. We ' re using more pictures, larger pictures, and, most important of all, a new kind of pictures. We ' d like to show the gentleman that the reading matter is shorter, spicier, and that it is nearly all written in a single dis- tinctive style. We ' d like to stick under his nose the new photo- graphic portfolios, the new columns, and the new covers. We ' re not saying it ' s good, under- stand; but we are saying it ' s at least slightly different. It looks as if the Jayhawker exemption slips are permanently gone. Without being required to subscribe, and with raised fees to pay, nearly as many of you bought the magazine this year as last. Wheat money did it, some think. Others say it is due to the fact that in former years all the publicity of the magazine was negative- Most of the talk was of the exemption slips and about not buying the book. But this year we tried to tell you why you would want the Jay- hawker, setting up a positive at- titude. Our real joy occured when a cynical fellow would approach our desk in the fees-paying line and ask warily, Do we have to take it. No, we would answer. All right, then, he would say, I ' ll sign up for it right now.

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' Ill OCTOBER 19-37 17 HFTER the last rush of Commencement in the spring, a lull falls over the Hill. During summer school the town yawns lazily, and then, in August, it falls sound asleep. Other towns may become dead in summer, but none so dismally dead as a college town when the college is closed. The town boy wanders the sidewalks aimlessly, seeing a Lawrence that others seldom see. Taxi drivers slumped slumbering in the seats of their parked cabs. The Hill hangouts closed completely, their doors bearing signs, Remodeling. Will Open Sept. 1. Barbers sitting in their own chairs, flipping absently through last June ' s Look. Ober ' s windows blank and empty, without lights at night. If the town boy goes to a show, there are perhaps five others in the audience, three of them over forty, two of them under ten. If he enters a store, the proprietor stares at him with suspicious unbelief. But then, in the last few days of August, the town boy has a thrill that others never have, for he sees the Hill awaken. The bang of hammers and the squawk of saws begin to issue from hangouts, from fraternity and sorority houses. Cars bearing Kansas licenses beginning 79 and 6 and 34 , or even plates from Tennessee or Cali- fornia, begin to rumble up Mississippi hill, faces peering curiously forth. Ober ' s windows burst forth in a blaze of light, new shirts, and fall tweeds. Taxis begin whizzing down Massachusetts, suitcases piled behind. Suddenly the movie audiences become younger, larger, and rowdier. Merchants no longer look up sadly and say, I suppose you want to use the phone. It ' s over there. Now they nod curtly and bark, Glad to see you back. Be with you in a minute. Abruptly the Hill hangouts fling open their doors to jammed booths, hysterical feminine greetings, and waiters dashing madly, with aprons flapping; they open their doors to back-slapping, to, YOU still here? WHADdayuhSAY? and to Caravan beating out so deafeningly that the sandwich man has to scream, Whatcha say goes with the ham? To everyone but the town boy it ' s the same old Hill. But to him it is a great, lovable monster which, for some perverse reason, hibernates in the summer and comes to noisy, lumbering, frantic life every fall.