AUBREY ADCOCK
So you want a college education, eh? Well, what type would you prefer—rare, medium, or well done?
It would be wonderful if a bachelor’s degree were a consumer item. That seems to be the opinion of a large majority of us nowadays, anyhow. Work is a thing of the past; it is as old-fashioned as Grandma’s scrub board or the old ward cookstove. We as young Americans no longer think of ways to improve our work, ways to increase our capacity for work, or ways to enjoy our work; we think only of ways to get out of work.
What a generation of dreamers we are! Let’s be realistic and face a few facts based on the laws of physics. Work is defined as a force times the distance through which it acts.
Now, if there is no force or distance, there is no work. Without work, there is no progress. How, then, do we expect to progress without first applying a force?
I wrote these things mostly as a reprimand to myself upon taking note of my nine-weeks grades, but if the shoe fits you, wear it. Let’s see how much shoe leather we can wear out before the semester is over.
The season of joy and glad tidings is swiftly approaching. What will it be like this year? Close your eyes and think along with me:
The time is 6:30 A.M., Christmas Day. Visions of sugar plums dreamily float through your mind as you recall a Christmas Eve well spent in revelry. (For revelry, you may insert your favorite sin or sins.) Suddenly you are aroused from your sound slumber by the sounds of gunfire. Yes, it’s only little brother running through the house with the quietness of a Tarzan movie during an elephant stampede. He hops gingerly over to your bedside (where you lie in a state of shock), raises his brand new “fanner 50” and kills you dead on the spot. He then becomes aware that you have likewise plans for him, and rides away into the sunrise.
You try to repair the arms of Morpheus, but foul odors begin to fill the air as Mother puts the holiday bird into the oven. Soon the smells become unbearable and you lazily pull your dirty garb on again, trip through Christmas wrappings, and find shockingly colored packages with your name attached. Upon opening same, you find usual shirts, socks, ties, and underwear, and decide that noise or no noise, smells or no smells, you will go back to bed. You then declothe, and assume a pre-natal position beneath the warm covers just in time to hear the gay, happy voices of kin… need I go further?
I’m just kidding, of course. I love Christmas like no other time of the year. It’s a wonderful time—a time to meditate, to rejoice, to be thankful. It is a time especially to forget yourself and to think about others. May I take this opportunity to wish everyone (teachers included) a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.