Tottenville High School - Purple Parrot Yearbook (Staten Island, NY)

Page 49 text:

jlte Unifecl Wafionzi These days we are all told to respect and appreciate the United Nations. A little task like this is nothing at all for me. I have the United Nations in my blood. Or, at least, I have the blood of the United Nations in me. I've got English in me. The English are said to be slow to get a joke. This is utterly absurd. One day in a History class a boy spoke as follows: HMost of the houses in France are made of Plaster of Paris. The whole class, of course, except me, roared with laughter. I can't see anything funny in the situation. The boy's ignorance is deplorable-not amusing. I've heard peo- ple tell me I don't smile. I donit smile because I don't laugh. I didnit laugh because I'm still waiting to hear a joke that's funny. I have Scotch in me. The Scotch are supposed to be penny-pinchers. This is ridiculous. I've never heard anything so outrageous in my life. Per- haps I do use a crook-resistant, burglar-proof padlock on my wallet-and perhaps I do bake biscuits to use as Christmas presents for the hockey team every year-simply proof of the sensible saving and flair for economy which is a virtue of the Scottish people. I've got Spanish in me. The Spaniards are said to be adept dancers. This is something with which I heartly agree. Just look at all the boys l've danced with-there isn't more than one with a cast still on his foot. There's only one thing that worries me-I wonder Why my dance partners so often wear combat boots and shin guards? The German in me is something of which I am exceptionally proud. And the claim that the Germans are stubborn is about the silliest one yet. Iim a typical German. I've never been known to reverse a decision in my life. I still think that my definition of glycerine as a vicious liquid which is miser- able in water in all proportions is better than any old stuffy Chemistry book. We simply have confidence in our infallibility and absolute conviction that we are right but this is no indication that we Germans are stubborn. 0i'm after havin' Oirish in me too. And judgin' by the likes of me- we Oirish haven't got the temper we're supposed to have. And the next time one of you lf,'q'.',.l' Q23 claims we've a temper, Oi'l1 gie ye the back oime hand so fast ye won't know what happened. One of these days, I plan on setting up my private United Nations. When I disagree with myself-I've always got the veto. When the Scotch in me refuses to appropriate money, the German gets stubborn about a concession to be made, the Irish loses its temper, and the Spanish is over in a far corner doing the fandango-I can always rely on the English to ask- Blast it all, old chaps, I really don't see just what the trouble is. Would you bully fellows sit down and explain the bloody thing to me?,' CARoL Rats

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.14 Clwbfnfzad for? It was a cold and bitter night, the snow was falling heavily as a little boy trudged wearily down the street. All around him people were bustling about, finishing their last minute shopping or shouting a greeting to a friend. Over the rush of the crowd could be heard the chimes softly playing: Silent Night, Holy Nightf' letting you know it was Christmas. Yes, Christmas was here at last, and a little boy stopped by a store and looked in through the window at the beautiful, bright new toys. He was imagining himself in a big room, with a Christmas tree, and under the Christmas tree were packages, dozens of packages, all gayly wrapped in shining red ribbon, and on the tag was marked- To Joey on Christmas. Yes, it was fun to dream, dream about a Merry Christmas. His thoughts were suddenly shattered as a gay group came laughing by and shoved little Joey aside. Joey picked himself up. '6Oh how I hate Christmas, he cried with tears running down his face. His mother and father had both been killed in a plane crash three years before and it left little Joey an orphan at the age of six. He thought about the or- phanage from which he had escaped. He didn't like the orphanage, he always though it was a place for children whose parents didn't want them. Ever since he first came to the orphanage, he had hated it. He had never felt at home there and had never made many friends. While he was standing there he felt someone tap him on his shoulder and say, '4Merry Christmas, son. Turning, he saw a man who appeared to be middle-aged. He had on a shabby blue coat, his shoes were badly sodden from the weather, on his head .was a battered hat which looked like it had been worn out several times. Clinging to this arm was a little girl about J oey's age who was dressed as shabbily as the man. As Joey was about to shout at the man and tell him he hated Christmas, he noticed something about the little girl, who now was tugging at the man's arm saying, Who is it Grandpa, who is it? lt is a little boy,', the man replied, Pvc just wished him a Merry Christmas. It was then that Joey realized that the little girl was blind. Ashamed, Joey blurted out a weak Merry Christmas, and as they passed him Joey heard the little girl exclaim with delight about the music and the gay noise all around her. Joey imagined himself in her shoes and shuddered. It seemed in that minute Joey grew up. He had been feeling sorry for himself, never thinking about other people. Now he knew that he was just being selfish. He realized that Christmas was the time of forgetting your sorrows, and to stop running away. Running away wasn't going to solve anything. Christmas was the time to give, not look to receive, and also for making others happy. Well, thought Joey, this is a Merry Christmas after all, and with those thoughts in his mind and a smile on his lips, Joey turned swiftly and marched happily back to the orphanage.

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ufiic elaarfmenf, ,Maier The house lights dim, the conductor's baton is poised, and a hush falls upon the audience as the first strains of Shubertis Unfinished Symphonyn are heard. The world famous New York Philharmonic Orchestra, you say? No, it isn,t the Philharmonic, nor for that matter, the N.B.C. Symphony Orchestra nor the Goldman Band. As you have guessed by now, we are talk- ing about what we believe to be one of the finest musical organizations of its kind, The Tottenville High School Band under the baton of its accomplished maestro, Mrs. Lala Wilson. Our band was organized in 1937 and gave its first performance at the Christmas assembly of that year. It began playing at graduations, and begin- ning at the commencement of Wo1'ld Wai' Two, it set out on an intensive war- time program. It played at most of the war monument dedication ceremonies on the South Shore. Since most members of the bands which customarily marched in the national parades were gone, the Tottenville High School Band volunteered its services. In the interest of public moral it cooperated with the American Legion and participated in several of their performances. It continued with its annual and semi-annual evening concerts alongwith the graduation ceremonies and assemblies. Later on it commenced to play at the May Day fete at Clove Lake. ln 1948, it played a major part in the successes of the Colden Jubilee. Later, in 1950, the band played and made possible another tremendous success, '4The Womanless Wedding.', As these last four years have passed we have seen our fellow band mem- ber gradually leave and new members gradually take their places and we reminisce over these wonderful fruitful years we have spent in our '4Band of Bandsu which has been made possible only through the untiring efforts of our own Mrs. Lala Wilsoil. Her devotion to her band and her ukidsi' has made all of our successes as triumphant as they are. Everything worth having has a beginning and our Euterpean Society had its beginning way back in 1937, with Mrs. Wilsoii as its progenitor.