Old Dominion University - Troubador Yearbook (Norfolk, VA)

Page 30 text:

mean? Eng 1ish. All of them? Yes. Well, - really. But I’m prepared for this. Where is that short story I wrote? Ah, here it is. Humm, not bad.... This story has everything Humor, pathos, and a message. Illustrates the futility of human endeavour. Isn'tit remarkable that one so young could be so well versed in the ways of Nature? Lessee, now ... I settled into a comfortable lounge chair and thought how lucky I was to have an entire evening off from work. An entire evening in which to catch up on my studies. An entire evening in which to enjoy the peace and quiet of home. How wonderful, I said aloud, as I snuggled deeper intothe soft comfort of the chair. My mother's startled cry shattered the robe of ecstacy in which I had enclosed myself. What the devil is wrong? I asked. There is a big dog on our back porch and he will not go away, she replied. I forced myself out of the chair and walked to the back door. I am not sure what I expected to see but the sight which met my eyes was a shock. Perched in the middle of the porch was a huge and obviously vicious dog. He apparently had claimed the porch as his own and was defying anyone to dispute his ownership. Hm-m-m-m-m, I said aloud in order to let my mother know that I was considering the matter. Now there resided in our neighborhood a mongrel who existed off the food donations of the various fami 1 ies. This mongre 1 was approaching our back door to receive our nightly contribution to his existence. The huge and obviously vicious dog that had claimed our porch as his own had no way of knowing that this other dog was merely trying to further his existence. He apparently considered the neighborhood mongrel a trespasser as he proceeded to show him, in the way that only a huge and vicious dog can show anyone, that he was trespassing and it would be sensible and healthier, to leave at once. Hm-m-m-m-m--Hm-m-m-m, I said again to let my mother know that the situation had acquired more depth and needed further thinking. My step-father returns home, as most men do, from work every day. He is tired from a hard day’s work. Being tired he does everything in his power not to exert himself. One of his energy-saving devices is to cut across the hack yard to gain entrance to his home. By doing this he saves walking the block and a half necessary to reach his front entrance. He was tired tonight. He elected to cut through the back yard. He approached our back porch. I was to interested in seeing what would happen to warn him. The huge and now proven vicious dog had no way of knowing that this aew intruder was merely passing through. He, in his dog-like manner, proved that he did not want anyone to intrude on his property or privacy. In doing so he removed a strip of cloth from a cheap, but highly prized, pair of pants that adorned my step-father’s person. Realizing that he was ill-equipped to do battle with this large, and rather impolite, canine, my stepfather retreated. He circled the house, acquired greater speed and temper by the second, entered our front door, obtaining a huge fishing gaff,not unlike an extra-long broom handle with a frightening hook attached, and went out of the back door much better prepared, emotionally and materially, to do battle. The dog proved quite agile for his size and evaded the wicked gaff that was swung at him. The gaff continued its forward motion, struck the edge of the porch, and snapped at its point of contact. This left my step-father with a too short piece of wood as a weapon. He retreated through the back door, which I nervously held open for him. The dog again took up residence in the center of the porch. My step-father looked at me. I looked at him. Hm-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m, we said together. There lives above us, on the second floor, a family consisting of two humans and'a very well bred and high-priced dog. This dog is released nightly from the four walls and affection that he lives in. This temporary freedom is made necessary by the biological functions, which is unavoidable even in aristocracy, human or canine. The dog had just been turned out to make his nightly contribution to the terra-firma that makes up our back yard. Upon exiting he came face to face with the self-appointed proprietor of our back porch, namely the huge and more vicious by-the-moment canine that had taken up residence there. The well bred and high-priced dog saw at a glance that the monstrosity who was facing him was of low intelligence and doubtful ancestry, thus not worthy of his attention. He ignored him. The huge and unsurpassably vicious dog knew nothing of an-

Page 29 text:

soldiers to wear uniforms in American History. Then, I shall take both History of Civilization and American History. I feel confident that I should acquaint myself with these important historical facts. How clever I'm becoming! Bully for you, young man. And may I be permitted to mention the Government course which is also offered to the students? What gall! What unspeakable effrontery! How can he imagine that I don’t know all about the United States government? Sir, I am quite aware that I live in a Democracy and that our heritage as a nation is an impressive thing. As a matter of fact, my uncle is a 'hopper' for the house of representatives; no bills could be passed if it wasn't for my Uncle Harry. Well, I suppose you needn't take the course, since you already know what, most of the people in the United States know about their government. Oh, mercy, I'm blushing. I'm all happily confused. But, I’m delighted that he appreciates what I learned in high school. All of this is quite new to me, sir. Have no fear, my boy; in Sociology, the main emphasis is placed on social problems. Good heavens! Forgive me for swearing. Aunt Sarah. I have no social problems at all. Why, only last night I was invited to a party. But, thank you for your interest, and if you’ll excuse me...? Certainly, boy. Come see us any time. College is interesting. But what strange people one meets. Even those lovely people began to get a rather frantic look before I left them. Is there something about me that brings this out in people? What is that ominous murmer? Do they have a class in witchcraft? It seems to be coming from that office. This is no time for cowardice. Courage, boy - yours is a tradition of exorbitant valor. This is it; never fear those pulsating walls. Turn that knob, and walk on in. Gad, what a frightening sound. Surely, my delicate eardrums have been rent asunder. But what an innocent, ostensibly mild-mannered, gathering is its source. Mixed couples and all talking at once, but - in what strange tongues! The young man in the corner is obviously speaking Lower Slobhovian - regardless of his habit of gargling. But the object of his discourse is sorely afflicted. Some sort of adenoidal ailment is responsible for that nasal tone. What a pity! The poor unhappy wretch. Perhaps I can lend some assistance. I shall tell him of the EENT clinic. Uh - podden me, sir, but I know where you can get that fixed. Why so quiet, all of a sudden? Can I have erred? Have I committed a faux-pas? If so, what is a faux-pas? Why, oh why this funeral silence? One of the young ladies is speaking.... -Callate, cochino, o te echo a los perros. Oh my, I'm blushing again. That French certainly lends itself to pretty speeches. And she said it so soft and musically. Really, ma’am I’m too young for that sort of thing. -Qu'est ce qUe e'est? Ich glaube es ist ein neuen student. -Qui cas esta aqui con una beca de futbol. Oh, let’s not make a big thing of it. It’s nothing any healthy, red-blooded young American wouldn’t do for one of his less fortunate brethren. Maybe the little lady under that monstrous stack of papers speaks English. Excuse me, ma’am, do you speak English? -Basta, si lencio. I guess not. What, is she muttering, anyway? Something about pre-class tests. It’s quite all right. Don’t apologize. Tell me, young man, have you had any background in Language? Oh, yes sir! Auf Deutsch? -Mais oui. (Now, why that profound sigh?) -En francais -Si, senor. (How come he shudders?) -Ah, en espanol. Ja, fraulein. I guess I impressed them. They’re so busy discussing my linguistic ability that they’re ignoring me. Er scheint hoffnungslos; nicht wahr? -Certainemcnt! -Cuan estupido se puede ser y vivir? Genau so dumm wie er. How nice of them! I shall bow slightly from the waist, in acknowledgement. In which language, in your opinion, should I major? - En g 1 a i s. Englisch. -Ingles. Shaddup and geddadahere. I suppose we've been distracting her. She’s such a busy soul. I’ll murmer a polite good-bye. -Arr ivederci . I beg your pardon, young lady, what is major? Language. What do 'Englisch', 'englais', and 'ingles’

Page 31 text:

cestry or intelligence but did claim a knowledge of trespassing laws. He refused to be ignored and proceeded to put real conviction in his eviction effort. The female, or wife, of the family owning the blue blood dog became aware of two things at once. One, that her darling dog was receiving a severe thrashing at the rear of the house, and, two, that her darling husband was entering the front of the house. Now the male, or husband, of the family had recently been promoted to a position of no little importance and was acutely aware of it. Being aware of it he imagincdhimse1f heavily burdened with responsibilities. So, naturally, he had acquired the irritable and superior airs that go with importance and responsibility. His se1f-important broodings were shattered by a shriek from his wife. He gathered from the shriek that some damn mutt was beating the hell out of Smudgy the Third, Smudgy the Third being the title that had been handed down to the blue blood dog. The husband was more than certain that he was superior to any dog living. He rushed around the house to rescue his poor little, but superior, Smudgy the Third. He was met by what he believed to be an enraged pony, and a growl not unlike that of a ruptured lion. The effect of the loud growl and the sight of the huge and very-very vicious dog had an in-stantancous effect upon him. MY GAWD, he screamed, not yelled. He immediately retraced his steps back to the front door, ascended his stairs, entered his apartment, secured a weapon (baseball bat by name), and descended his back stairs to do battle with this monstrosity that had succeeded in shattering the composure he had been creating for weeks. Smudgy the Third meanwhile had departed, as fast as his aristocratical legs would carry him, to spots that he considered safer. For the next fifteen minutes strange sounds could be heard from the rear of the house. They sounded something like this: You son of, ROAR, you no-good, ROAR-ROAR, get the hell away, GROWL-RIP-TFAP-ROAR. The human retreated, deciding that intelligence could win out only if it had the opportunity to present itself, and it required a thick oak door between the intelligence and the vicious dog before the intelligence could function properly. All was quiet. No opponents were forthcoming to challenge the dogs right to the back porch. The dog must have felt that a deep-rooted plot was being hatched against him as he appeared ill-at-ease. His authority had been proven anyway. With a triumphant howl, that somehow made one thinkof dense jungles and huge all-powerful animals, the dog leaped from the porch and trotted easily away. He paused only once, for a split-second glance over his shoulder, and he appeared to be laughing, laughing, laughing. I found the words, atomic age, running through my mind. ... Dog Story by Howard Spruill Significant bit of work. And quite well done, too. Maybe the English department is in this building. My, it’s quite dark in here. And what an odd odor! Seems to be a composite of tired gym socks and burning golf balls - augmented by four gallons of citronella. Where is i t coming from...? Ah, this must be a laboratory. There are the neat rows of stone-topped work tables. Equipment lockers under and reagent shelves over them. Shelves all over the place. Let’s see, Chemicals, burners, test tubes, ring stands, and-empty coke bottles. That's probably the instructor’s desk, lurking under that mountainous pile of tinker toys, paper clips, and comic books - science fiction, I trust. Shades of the Philosophy department! What secret, black and midnight hags” are these? Oh, faculty members. But what is that apparatus they're watching so intently? It almost touches the ceiling. And so complex! Condensers, distilling flasks, bunsen burners, collecting beakers, glass tubing...what on earth goes on? The experiment in progress is probably one of grave consequence, so I’ll just move over quietly to where I can see and hear. Gentlemen, according to my calculations, the proportion has to be six grams per liter of solution. Actually, the results show fivepoint seven grams, but we must allow the three tenths of a gram for evaporation loss and impurity of the mixture. My, oh my, ain't they dressed up? I prefer the white lab gown with belt in the back to the conservative gray models the other two are sporting. That sounds, ah, logical to me, but my shin hurts were I, ah, humped into the door, so I’d be willing to try anything to get this over with and go home. Here, cauterize it with this HNOs. No, thank you, you’ve spilled enough on