Duke University - Chanticleer Yearbook (Durham, NC)

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What time does the Union open? P9 J-T HHP ' ' I ' ll teach you to interrupt my card game! 13

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MORNING . . . Life wouldrCt be so bad if it didrCt mean getting up in the morning. But every day starts that way, the campus gradually awakens: alarms ring, and ring, and ring . . . pillows thud on roommates — or wet washcloths — or the radiator comes on with a clanking — or the soothing cackle of the ' Country Boy wafts through the speaker of the clock radio. Somehow, the Duke student eventually starts another day — or at least starts thinking about it. Through bleary eyes, he glances out of the small-paned Gothic window to check the weather — drippy, natch. There ' ' s incentive for you. Big masculine feet, little feminine feet padding groggily up and down dormitory halls, in and out of closets . . . no one really knows how the day does begin . . . can ' t see, can ' t think, can ' t maneuver. Breakfast, the first saving grace: sad cold eggs stare mournfully, the healing waters of a coffee cup, ornch juice to freshen that foul taste . . . and the first cigarette of the day {really should stop smoking) . . . the jarring rattle of Union china . . . and the day ' s first decision: which newspaper? Wonder what Jack Horner has to say, and Ann Landers . . . nice to know they haven ' t dropped the bomb . . .yet. Each day differs, but the What quiz? I bet this will wake him up. Energetic students come to class early to catch up on current events. 12

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That ' s correct — over 90% of the swing ends reported no cavities. first hour is always the same — predictably miserable, foggy, blank . . . unless you stay in bed, that ' s best of all. Smile now, you might not feel like it later on . . . Off to classes . . . a snore bellows from the last row — catnaps, pencil- pushing, unshaven faces, all kinds of profs — drags, in- spirers, jokers, scholars. Between classes, it ' s the Dope Shop for a Pepsi or coffee and doughnuts . . . a quick glance at the contemporary card rack . . . still the same . . . visit the P.O. to discover another bill — rats, they found me. A battle up the stairs ivhen the rest of the campus is pouring down them. . . . Then fight for a ride to the other campus — ladies first, you Southern gent — or play mash-em on the bus. Things come into focus now . . . maybe it won ' t be such a bad day after all. But there ' s that hour test . . . a chance to pull the plug and let the knowledge pour forth — or drip pitifully . . . 50 minutes to show that you ' ve done the reading, or to bluff and hide the fact that you haven ' t . . . The thrill of writing a good exam, the despair of failure . . . it ' s all in a morning ' s ivork.