Kansas State University - Royal Purple Yearbook (Manhattan, KS)

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several campus figures, Including President Acker and several deans from the University ' s colleges. Twenty-five cents gave students three chances to dunk their helpless victims, while a one dollar donation guaranteed an automatic dunk. Proceeds went to the McCain Scholarship Fund. Residence hall officers met at a leadership banquet at Putnam Hall that night which also was scheduled as discount night in Aggieville. Wednesday ' s events began at 5:45 pm with a scavenger hunt. Starting at the Union, students picked their way across campus in search of treasures otherwise considered to be trash. Members of eight teams searched for over 140 valuable items like bird feathers and bottle tops. A carnival in Kramer Food Center followed with games and prizes. More students than usual donned their Big Macs on Thursday, overalls day. A square dance and spelling bee were scheduled that night and a scholarship banquet at Derby Food Center honored students with 3.7 or higher grade point averages. A TGIF party at Dark Horse Tavern Friday afternoon was followed by a Catskeller coffeehouse which gave residence hall students a chance to show off their talents, or lack of them. The final day of Spring Fling prov- ed to be the most exciting. Bed judg- ing began at 11 am at the Union, with each of the eight teams decorating their beds with a bicentennial theme. West and Marlatt Halls ' odd- numbered floors took first place, with decorations in a Mom and ap- ple pie motif. After drawing for starting positions each team lined up accor- dingly. A pistol blast broke the suspense, and the first leg of the race had begun. Beds collided early in the race as teams vied for the lead, and racers armed with water balloons increased the competition. Though teams were neck-and-neck until the last leg of the race, Putnam and Haymaker Halls ' even-numbered floors placed first. Following a picnic east of Danforth Chapel, spring flingers competed in contests such as jello-snarfing, skin- the-snake, wheel barrow races and tug-of-war. Again West and Marlatt Halls ' odd-numbered floors were victorious, winning all but two games. The week ' s events concluded that night with a dance on Derby ' s basketball courts featuring J. T. Cook. spring fling - - 27

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Out of the dorm and into the fling by Paul Rhodes It might well be labeled pan- demonium, but it is actually much more—a dunk tank, a teeter totter marathon, carnivals, bed races, dances, banquets, free movies and lots of water balloons. It ' s collectively called Spring Fling, a week In April when over 3,000 residence hall dwellers can do things they never before dared. The K-State University Associa- tion of Residence Halls (KSUARH) dubbed the 1976 rendition of Spring Fling The Hall American Thing in honor of the Bicentennial. The week-long celebration took a step back in history on April 25 with a ' 50s dance in Derby Food Center. Bubble gum blowing, root beer chugging and Fonzie and Betty Lou look-alike contests were staged at the hop. Meanwhile, the teeter totter marathon had begun in front of the Union to continue until Friday. In telephone booth-stuffing spirit, students kept the board moving day and night. As promotion for Spring Fling balloons were distributed to be used later in the week, when they ' d be filled with water and aimed at carefully chosen targets—members of opposing bed race teams. A pool party at the Natatorium highlighted the following day ' s ac- tivities. Afterward, students gathered on Goodnow Hall ' s lawn for free movies. Hook, Line and Sinker and Don ' t Raise the Bridge, Lower the River were featured. Tuesday was cold and wet for University officials and some students, but not because of the weather. A dunk tank in the Union courtyard offered a chance to soak 26 - - spring ging

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Seeking solitude in a matchbox by Melinda Melhus The alarm rings. I hope I ' m still dreaming. 8:45 am. I roll over. The alarm is still ringing. Stiffly. I roll out of bed and head for the door. My bare feet stumble over a stray pair of tennis shoes and like a domino, my body falls into a bicycle, sending it to the floor with a crash. Be quiet and let me sleep. the muffled voice of my roommate echoes disgustedly from under her pillow. Well if you wouldn ' t leave your stuff . . . Oh what ' s the use. I straighten the bike, rub my bruised shins and head for the bathroom down the hall. As if adjusting to classes, masses of people and waiting lines wasn ' t enough. I have to spend the next nine months of my life living in a room half the size of my family ' s bathroom at home. Not only do the closets. drawers, and shelves have far less space than I need, I have to share them with person who ' s practically a stranger. Even so, I ' m beginning to note the advantages of a limited amount of space. Because inventory is so small, I ' d know immediately if anything had been lost or stolen. And if I can ' t find an item, it ' s probably in or under something larger. My roommate lost a t-shirt last week. She finally found It between the wall and her mattress when she was looking for the green blouse she had lost the week before that. The blouse turned up several days later stuffed into one of her boots. Tipper, the goldfish, has the most space. We finally took him off the stereo and hung his bowl from the ceiling. He didn ' t appreciate being sloshed every time we chang- ed an album. But in spite of its matchbox qualities. our room is the central meeting place for the entire corridor when earth- shattering events occur—Nancy gets flowers and it ' s not Valentine ' s Day. Sally gets a blind date to the formal or everyone flunked their biology tests for the second time. And so they congregate on beds, desks, and the window ledge—and I wonder how I ' ll get out of here to study for tomorrow ' s test. Privacy has never meant so much until now. At home, I could slam my bedroom door and my seclusion went respected and uninvaded; but now I can ' t get into my room for all the bodies. There ' s a party going on next door while I try to sleep or study. Someone wants pizza and the doughnut crowd wants to make a midnight run. Stereos blare around the clock, piercing tissue-thin walls and will my roommate ' s boyfriend ever leave so I can get back in my room? Desperation strikes. Scared but determined, I walk alone after dark to the library. After 11 pm, and I study in the laundry room to the hum of a lone dryer. Or I wait until 2 am. when the noise finally dies down, and read to dim lamplight, turning pages ever so quietly. Crying is the most difficult thing to accomplish. A phone booth or an empty stairwell affords escape and a bathroom stall will suffice. Riding up and down In the elevator is the last resort. Such close living has taught me to share, but more im- portantly, it has taught me to respect one ' s need for privacy and space. Someday, when I have a home of my own, I ' ll probably look back at these days and laugh. Then I ' ll complain that I need more storage space. 28 - - privacy