Appalachian State University - Rhododendron Yearbook (Boone, NC)

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Dear Readers: Thought that I would write and let you know that Dad is getting along fine, he only limps on election days now. Contrary to rumors, he is not getting a face-lift; he ' s trying to save all the face he can. David and I are getting along famously (we held hands again this week). Love and kisses, Julie and David E. Sirs: Great is our bliss and blessed is our campus. Our infirmary ' s doctor maintains that he ' s never seen a case of syphillis here. Our chancellor has never heard of a case of rape at ASU. And a bicycle race across the state is beginning in Boone. Surely Liebnitz was right; this is the best of all possible worlds. Doctor Pangloss Sirs: In response to your personality profile on me last month, I wish to note that I arrived on your campus long after the football team lost its fight. I did not eat it. E. Gibbons Sirs: Since I first got into the multi-media business, I have never seen such structured chaos — sound, sight and odor-wise — as Appalachian State University. It is a pleasure to be here. Marshall M. McCluhan Sirs, All in all, I would say, this year ' s Rhododendron fills a much-needed void. T. Capote Sirs: It is with great pride and genuine warmth that I make this announce- ment to the pig-dogs of American society: there is another man in my life besides Charles Manson. It all started innocently enough with my protest over my earlier failure to subpoena Charlie as a witness in my trial. I refused to enter the courtroom under my own leg power at that point. That ' s when Mr. Right came into my life. That pig-dog fascist judge assigned Mr. He-Man Big Muscles to carry me into court each day. Secretly, I stopped protesting the point early in the trial, but enjoyed the bodily contact so much that I kept up the act. Now we are engaged to be married as soon as I am released from prison and after Mr. Right burns the Supreme Court in effigy. Don ' t tell Charlie. He might do something drastic. Love, Squeaky P.S. We ' re going to name our first child Gerald. Sirs: I can ' t take it any more. Every time I tell a lie my nose grows another inch. Already I have the best hung nose in Watauga County, and the end is nowhere in sight. My problem regards my nose. I have had a large number of indecent proposals from campus coeds, which I don ' t mind, but lately I have come to the conclusion that they only love me for my nose. What can I do? R. Nixon Sirs: Lately I have experienced the most unusual behavior. Every time I hear Gerald Ford ' s name mentioned, I break out into uncontrollable fits of laughter. The public library has threatened to take away my library card, and NBC is trying to hire me as a one-man laugh track. I ' m not a traitor, am I? S. Ervin Sirs: After all, who is the bull goose loony here? Chief Broom starts an escort service to save potential rape victims. He wants to tone things down, avoid a scare, a panic. Has the Chief been undergoing shock treatment? Next, he ' ll have his geese forming vigilante committees to round up all blacks on campus after dark. Sometimes I get a great notion to choke Chief Broom. Cuckoo K. Kesey Sirs: Imagine what it ' s like, being one of a kind, an endangered species in this area. I have no one to discuss my troubles with, no one to enter into consultation with, no one for empathy. It all makes me sick. Why can ' t we have another campus doctor here? We could hire a full-time doctor and make a beginning towards establishing a campus dentist on what the popular programs committee spent on Linda Ronstadt and tried to spend on Stephen Stills. What will I do if there ' s a buddy-check? Dr. E. Ashby Sirs, I am in love with my Philosophy professor who is not of my religion or nationality. He is divorced, a hard drinker and thirty-five years my senior. Do you think I should marry him, and if so, what color dress should I wear? Baffled Sirs: What kind of school is ASU anyway? The flavor of books in the campus library is strictly cottage cheese. I haven ' t eaten this blandly since my apprenticeship days in Pat Boone ' s private library. Hey. I ' ve come a long way up the ladder. I ' ve paid my dues. You don ' t do this to a worm of my standing. Perhaps you folks don ' t know the rules. Perhaps labor management would like to hear about my situation. Stop putting so much attention on the woolly worm and get back to basics, man. It ' s all a hoax, anyway. Every worm knows that. Just a good PR man in the woolly worm stables. So wise up. Spice up the content. Increase the pagination. You ' re building a reputation of drab. Concerned, A. Book Worm National Lampoon 5

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Tales of Indigestion, Heartburn, and Diarrhea FOOD SERVICES A GUT ISSUE The Appalachian jjourmct has a vast variety of culinary experiences from which to choose awaiting him on campus. Perhaps the most expensive (j)er volume) nutriment facilities are the numberous quick-snack machines scattered about the campus like reslrooms. At these machines one may purchase candy-bars, such as Grounds, Reese ' s Cups (3b-C). Mr. GiH dbad, or others. Some machines also dispense cheat crackers and peanutbutter crackers. Other machines merely dispense with the hungry snacker ' s appetite (or his money). The drink machines available contain canned drinks (two cents worth of can and eleven cents worth of Dr. Pecker, Peppi, Mt. Drew or Roca Rola) for thirty cents. Gum (arable) and occasional sandwiches (for all occasions, perhaps, except meals) are also available. Popcorn, peanuts and cookies fill a few of the better machines, and if you ' re not averse to the old tilt method, some of these machines provide lots of action. Unfortunately, crowds often congregate about these machines, the greatest concentration of which may be found in the Appskclter in the student center, and discuss marinated moon pies or the proper wine to accompany milk. When these unfortunate episodes occur, the hungry App may have to resort to the more stable munching facilities on campus, such as the ice cream bar in the Appskeleton, where many flavors of fro en milk arc available, along with G.I. coffee and doughboynuts or cigarettes (for the light eater). Another place (designated nutritive c onsumption area, for those in the College of Human Learning and Development) one can find a nutritious meal is the Bavarian Inn (B.I. or Grease Hall), where overpriced hamburgers, yogurt, drinks (non- alcoholic, of course), pies, pi . ,en and French Flies are served round the cIcKk, round the table and rounded off to the nearest five dollars. The university provides entertainment in the form of a soulful juke box and Monlc uma ' s Revenge. For the discriminating feeder, the university cafeteria, managed by Genghis Khan and Herod, offers vegetables, frozen fruit, meat, desserts, milk and other assorted miracles of the kitchen. The lines are never longer than two hundred feet, the food never worse than a jack rabbit caught in a window fan. One of the invigorating novelties of the cafeteria is the noise, perhaps the loudest anywhere on campus, with the possible exception of the B.I. (see previous box score). In the cafeteria, one can dine among students, administrators, professors and hang- on vagabonds just off the North-bound freight (which doesn ' t come within fifty miles of Boone). Jazz musicians, garbagemcn, poets, jocks (the athletes, not the supporters), frat-rats, beauty queens, queens, biM)k worms, hook wDrms, grad students, undergrad studs and an occasional famous person or two can all be seen rubbing salad forks in this well-lit repository of food that you just wouldn ' t believe. The Gold Room. Home of magical fiK)d and the salad bar, land of fiery fudge cake and the rinky-tink piano of David Balfour, sanctuary of mushrotim infested steaks and non-nuclear submarines. With a breathtaking view of the tops of spruce trees and waitresses as gorgeous as Kate Smith and Golda Meir, the Gold Room offers the most convenient opportunity for the hapless undergraduate to dispose of his meal tickets before he knows what hit him. Many famous gourmets, including King Gargantua, Squire Westen, and Linda Lovelace have allowed their names to be used in connection with Appalachian ' s famous Gold Room. Opulence. What do you think of when you ' re hungry and you hear that word? The restaurant on the mountain, the Top of the Mark, none other than ASU ' s Center for Continuing Motel Education, where gentlemen in red coats and foxy coeds lead you to your table and serve you steaks, baked potatoes with globs of fresh butter, cream cheese, bacon bits and cloves, but no wine. (That only goes on in the rooms, such as the I ' resident ' s Sweet (oops, indiscretion •♦♦|) You can sit between the huge picture window with its panoramic view of the Southern Highlands and the tremendous mounlainstone fireplace and sip iced tea among conventioning educators (many of whom have not seen a student face to face since Kent State) and swap gossip with state legislators and their daughters. You can stand under the black shellacked carriage and listen to the tranquilizing white sound muzak, sit in the chair that Richard Nixon sat in for his coronation and perform you ablutions in the identical rest room used by Robert Penn Warren, Bill Dunlap. John Foster West and Marilyn Chambers. From these examples, you can infer that ASU does not lack for variety of eating places, and no one has ever committed suicide in an ASU refectory. According to all reports, all fatalities in these facilities have been involuntary and unexplained. The Boone Police and AST ards couldn ' t explain thi i ihcy involved parking violatioas. But don ' t take our word for it: hon appetil. '