Cumnock School - Chronicle Yearbook (Los Angeles, CA)

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L I T E R A T U R E 'K At last the hour of torture was over and we returned the bikes to the rental agency. As I limped up, the attendant smiled ingratiatingly and said, Would you girls care to take these out for another hour? I still can't, for the life of me, see how I managed to hold my temper in check at this last salt-pouring on an open wound. Somehow I managed to drag myself home and fall comfortingly onto my bed. Only one grain of sat- isfaction did I retain after this harrowing experience, At least it was good exercise and I needed it, I thought to myself. But it sounded slightly hol- low even to me in weakened condition. A TEACHER'S POINT OF VIEW Ronnie' Bamburger At times they seem afraid of me, The room with sun their faces fill, But it is I who wants to flee- Yet they always give me chills- I sit in fright They sit and shout While they all write While I pass out-- An answer. My pupils! Oh I shall never teach again, I try to teach them English verbs, l'll leave that task to big strong men-They sit and ho and hum their words- They'll sit and grin I stand and shake At my coffin- While they all fake A teacher. An answer. HERETIC Bill Pearson I saw the throngg I saw the throneg I made my choiceg I stand alone. 7l

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L I T E R A T U R E UP AND DOWN AND ROUND AND ROUND OR HOW TO RIDE AN INC-O-BIKE Frances Gutterman To be able to ride what some misinformed soul called an Ingo-bike, one must be possessed of the following requisites: soft bones to prevent break- ing, soft muscles to prevent knotting, and a soft head to be foolish enough to ride one in the first place. I speak from sad experience. Once, I too, was sweet and innocent until some of my scheming friends trapped me into hiring one of those vehicles for an hour for the princely sum of 25c. Naturally, having put out this invest- ment I was bound to finish out the time contracted for, even if it killed me, and it nearly succeeded in so doing. We started off easily enough, that is, they did. They jumped up and down and the wheels went round and round and came out all right. But when I jumped up and down, for some strange inexplicable reason the wheels wob- bled and kept going first towards the sky and then towards the terra firma, in the meanwhile giving me an extremely thorough shaking so that I was forced to stop the cute little machine. Not that it mattered, because it halted of its own accord as there did not seem to be enough power or some- thing to keep it going. One of the kind friends l?l attempted to show me how to run it. Look, she said, push along with one foot like a scooter until you get start- ed then just pull back on the handlebars and push down with your feet when the rear wheel is at the bottom. Well, that was different. Why hadn't someone told me how to man- age it before? Off I started, bouncing and jumping, I had itl HeyI I shout- ed enthusiastically, Lookl l've got it! Suddenly for no apparent reason I found myself sitting prettily in the gutter where some kind person had had the foresight to pile some dry leaves. At least they looked dry, but imagine my chagrin when I discovered there was a pool of muddy water beneath that innocent looking bunch of leaves. If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. That is an old time-tested axiom but it certainly doesn't hold true for Ingo-bike riding. I tried and tried again, but each attempt brought the same failure as the preceding one, ex- cept that perhaps the later ones were worse, due to sheer exhaustion. 70

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L I T E R A T U R E IVIY PHILOSOPHY IA class assignment, extemporaneously writtenl Suzanne Vidor Anyway, I know I don't want to be the kind of person I am now. If it were possible, l'd like to develop into a composite of all the things I now lack. In the first place, I would like to be strong-strong, not necessarily of mind, but more of will and personality, which may be the same thing, but I doubt it. l'd like to know instinctively the right thing to do at the right time. And it seems to me that could be acquired even though it appears instinctive. I'd like to be more honest, primarily with myself, and of course, with others. Frankness, of course, would go along with honesty. Now I would like to be able to have very high ideals about what I want to be, and how I want to beg but I would like to have the self assurance and perseverance to carry them out. Moreover, I would like to be able to enjoy life more. I would like to throw off a very stupid faculty of making myself unhappy when there is ab- solutely no cause. In all I would like to be able to live fully, honestly, and joyfully with everything in life. Note: This ideal seems to me to be a true picture of what you already are.-H. B. C-OODBYES Ronnie Bamburger I hate goodbyes- They seem so silly, so futile, so sad. They put an end to all the joyous friendship we have had, I hate goodbyes. I hate farewells and tears- And when you go, say not goodbye They seem so tragic, so ending, so mad, just turn away and smile and say, I hate farewells and tears. I know we'll meet again someday - And go. 72