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Caretaker, Troubleshooter, Friend,
Campus RA’s Fill Different Jobs
BY VAN THOMASON
“An R.A.’s job is never
done," was the comment made
by Bill Phillips, one of the many
resident advisors on campus.
Phillips, a senior, has been an
K.A. since winter quarter, and
says he likes the job mainly
because of "the personal
contact and the opportunity it
gives to know people."
It is important, he says, for
each student to know there is
someone in the dorm who he or
she can turn to if a problem
arises they are unable to cope
with.
Phillips said the duties of an
R.A. may not be clear to many
of the students on campus.
Phillips explained that to
become an R.A. a student must
be at least a first quarter
sophomore. Applicants must
have lived a year in the dor
mitory. The prospective R.A.’s
grades must have a 2.0
average, and take 10 hours
each quarter
Mike Scott
Remember.... Halloween
Remember the time you sat in
class during grade school and
daydreamed about candy ap
ples and other assorted goodies
you would fill your brightly
colored "trick or treat" bags
with so that you could show and
tell everybody the next day how
successful you were on your
adventure’’
You couldn’t wait until you
got home and prepared your
special costume for the ghostly
night ahead. You didn’t care
about painting your face then
with your mother’s lip-stick or
even wearing some type of
plastic mask. They always
seemed to smother you because
the nose opening was not quite
right or the eye openings were
so tiny that you actually wan
dered through the night, not
knowing where you were at the
time.
It was time to leave now and
you and a few of your friends
were ready to be tricked or
treated.
And remember when, un
satisfied with your treat, you
became so angered that you had
a few tricks up your sleeves.
Those were the times when a
good trick would be to set an
empty can, filled with fireworks
ready to explode in someone’s
doorway. You rang the doorbell
and ran for cover. It amazed
you to see the person’s stunned
face after the fireworks had
made such a racket. The next
door neighbors had now known
how cheap the other fellow w as,
but after you thought about it, it
wasn’t very nice.
But, tricks are not always
played on the “Halloweenee."
Instead, the Halloweener
receives a cut of
the action. During the past few
years, there have been a great
deal of drastic tricks “played"
upon the Halloweener. Who
would ever think that someone
would give a poor innocent
child an apple with razor blades
implanted within its fillings?
Could you sit and watch a little
kid with a gigantic smile
stretched across his face, bite
into a good-looking juicy, red
apple and suddenly see his
expression as knife-like objects
plunged in his lips, tongue and
roof of the mouth, blood gushing
everywhere?
Halloweeners will be visiting
the campus next week,
As with any job there is an
application form to fill out, and
applicants must obtain
references from teachers. The
next step is an interview with
Ms. Vickie Carrithers. housing
director. The interview is filled
with “personal questions". One
which “stuck out" in Phillips’
mind was "What is your opinion
of other people’s opinion of
you?"
Roberts Hall, where Bill is an
R.A. this quarter, has three
floors with about three hundred
people. There are eight R.A.s in
the hall plus a head resident,
George Bagwell, who is a
student, and the hall director,
track coach Bill Webb.
The second floor of Roberts
Hall is Phillips' area of
operations. He is entrusted
with the care of 25 rooms, or
about 50 people. As R.A. two of
his top priorities are main
taining discipline of the
students and insuring that the
maintenance of the dorm is kept
up
reminding dormitory residents
of the wonderful times they had
when at the tricks or treating
age. They will recapture the
moments when they ap
proached a door scared to death
of what the person that an
swered might say or do. In
unusual cases there would be
the nice little lady with a
pleasant smile upon her face
that answered the door. They
would be so happy that she
invited everybody in for a few
minutes. This lady lived all
alone and cherished the
moment when she had company
and someone to talk to. She
piled your “trick or treat” bags
Continued On Page 12
Few Sour Notes
In St. Louis Group
A REVIEW
BY DAVID LINDSEY
The St. Louis Jazz Quartet’s
concert Tuesday was billed as
“an entertainment experience
you’ll long remember." About
350 music lovers will “long
remember” the experience as a
joyous journey back to the jazz
era.
The concert opened with a
spiraling three-minute in
strumental. With authority,
drummer Charles Payne beat
out a path which bass player
Terrence Kippenberger
smoothed out for the intricate
steppings of pianist Edward
Nicholson. Vocalist Jeanne
Trevor’s voice sliced through
the air and captured the hearts
of the audience with her first
number, “Days of Wine and
Roses".
“Let’s get on back to the heart
of jazz and blues," Ms. Trevor
said to introduce her second
song. She followed with a force
ful rendition of Billie
Holiday’s “Good Morning
Heartache”. At one point in the
emotion filled song a member of
the audience was aroused to the
point of shouting, “Put it on it,
sister.”
The program continued on to
provide probably the most
energetic concert held since the
banning of outdoor concerts.
In referring to the main
tenance, Phillips said if there is
a problem such as broken
windows, busted lights or
stopped up drains the student
can go to his R.A., explain the
situation and steps will be taken
to have the problem remedied
by the maintenance personnel.
According to Phillips the
maintenance personnel are fast
and keep the place clean.
On discipline, his job consists
of “enforcing the house rules,"
making sure that the quiet
hours are observed, and that the
open house rule is enforced.
Problems that an R.A. might
run into are as many and as
varied as the students that
inhabit the dorm. But usually,
Phillips said it is nothing more
than a stereo turned up too loud,
or a late night beer party that
gets out of hand. Phillips also
said that he “never had any
trouble with the loud mouth
people," and most quieted down
after being reminded that
others on the hall were trying to
sleeD.
When asked about pay,
Phillips replied that an R.A. is
paid a “standard wage" for
three hours a day five days a
week. He calls it a “good job,
where you are able to carry out
your duties while remaining in
your room.”
Sunday through Thursday an
R.A. stays in the dorm lobby
from 8 to 11 and acts as an all
round troubleshooter. On an
average, they catch night duty
every eight days. R.A.’s rotate
on taking weekend duty. He
does not have to stay in the
lobby but must “be around” if
any one needs his assistance.
Phillips said one thing that
made his job easier was the
rapport he had with his fellow
R.A.s. “The guys are easy to
work with," he said. “Most of
them have been around and are
able to deal with just about any
situation that might arise."
The beautiful vocalist showed
her range as she soared to a
high pitch and then come down
to an earth-shaking bass tone.
She also showed her versatility
in her repertoire which included
the 1930s slow blues, “God Bless
the Child” and the recent
release by the Stylistics, “You
Make Me Feel Brand New.”
Nicholson contributed the
dominating accent to the
group s sound with his ex
ceptional runs.
It seemed as though Kip
penberger could make any
sound come out of his bass,
whether it be the stand-up bass
or his electric bass. By plucking
and sliding on the strings and by
the use of a wah-wah pedal, he
produced sounds that most of
the audience was surprised to
hear come from a bass.
Payne displayed his wares in
10-minute drum solo. Even his
accidental dropping of a stick
was eloquent.
The show ended with a gospel
version of the Beatles’ “Let It
Be” in a spiritual manner that
sounded as though it had been
inspired by days back in the
cotton fields.
Despite the expertise of the
quartet, there was an informal
atmosphere that encouraged
exchanges between performer
and audience.
David Willingham
Insidious
I slipped quietly into the room and took a seat on one of the hard
wooden benches. Before me lay the huge hall. It was a thing of
sumptuous beauty, an architectural wonder. The floor was inlaid
with fine marble cunningly worked into designs of corn stalks, and
the walls were hung with heavy, gilt-threaded tapestries
representing various models of tractors and reaping machines. The
ceiling seemed to stretch up and touch the very sub-basement of
Heaven.
From my vantage point on the spectator’s benches at the rear of
the hall 1 could see everything that was transpiring. Men who wore
their importance casually, like an old silk hat, were strolling about
the hall, talking to one another in calm and friendly manner. A man
wearing richly appointed overalls was mounting to the diamond
encrusted podium at the front of the hall.
A hush fell over the room, and fully two hundred pairs of eyes
turned expectantly to the man at the podium. I looked at him again,
then settled back on my cold bench to hear what he had to say.
“Hear ye, hear ye," quoth he, bringing a huge wood mallet down
upon the lectern. “This here meeting of the Cabbagetown City
Council will now come to order.”
He paused meaningfully, then continued.
“Now, as you boys all know, we is here tonight to vote on this here
beer issue that that there uppity motel manager brought up. I
reckon that we have been ignoring it long enough so we better
decide on this beer vote tonight. Besides, that motel feller says that
if we don’t decide pretty soon he’s going to tell our wives just what
kind of guests some of us have been bringing to his motel. So I’m
going to open this thing to the floor and let you boys discuss it
some.”
“Mister chairman!”
“The chair recognizes Hardy McDonald."
“Well, Mr. chairman," the ragged man said, “as all you boys are
well aware, I own and operate that fine local eating establishment,
the Greasy Fork. And as you also know, we is a high class place
specializing in only the very finest of Southern cooking. Why, Mr.
chairman, sometimes when I think of our delicious fried pork
livers, I just get all sexu...”
“Enough, Mr. McDonald." The chairman pounded his gavel in
frustration. “Get to you point"
“Yessir. Anyway, I sure do wish that all you fine folks would pass
this here new law so I could serve beer in my restaurant. Why, my
being able to serve alcoholic beverages would be the greatest thing
that ever happened to the old Greasy Fork."
“And why is that, Mr. McDonald?”
“Because then the customers, especially them college punks,
would get so drunk they wouldn’t notice how bad the food is."
The ragged man fell back into his seat and a very pious looking
gentleman wearing a black suit and narrow black tie rose for at
tention.
“Brother chairman,” said he.
“The chair recognizes Jacob Dogma, pastor of the Cabbagetown
Holy Roller Baptist church.”
“Brother chairman,” the pastor allowed himself a slight smile
and folded his hands in a gesture of absolute piety. “It is my high
Christian duty to go on record as opposing this... this supremely
evil..." his voice choked with emotion, “this horrid, this truly
Satanic!" his inflections rose to superhuman heights, "... piece of
legislation which lies before the council today.” He paused as
though waiting for applause. The hall was silent.
“And why do you oppose it so strongly?” the chairman prompted.
“Becauses if we allow the local beaneries to serve demon alcohol
those +3s&+c punks and bums at that +s&+s excuse for a college
here in Cabbagetown will get drunk on their respective +s?& + •
and go running through the streets +$!?&&, +$?&!, and forcing
themselves upon our beautiful virgin daughters. I think that s a
bunch of +-$!0&!”
The minister sat down in triumph. A group of six or seven filthy,
reeking individuals of indeterminate sex noisily rose and clamored
belligerently for attention.
“The chair,” quoth the chairman, “reluctantly recognizes the
delegation from our nearby nemesis, Western Georgia College.’
“Your pigship,” said the dirtiest and obvious leader of the group
“We as students in Cabbage county demand the right to get
plastered in public restaurants as we now are free to booze in
discriminately in the privacy of our own homes.
“And why is that?” said the chairman.
“Uh.” The student leader rubbed his chin whiskers and looked to
his comrades for assistance. “I don’t really know your honor. To
tell the truth, we’re all too stoned to remember.” He seated himself
without fanfare.
Following the student leader’s speech, a great clamor rose within
the hall. Many wanted to execute the college delegation, while
others merely wanted to beat them senseless. At the height of the
debate, a pickup truck of solid gold came bursting through the wall
behind the chairman’s podium.
“Uncle Roy!” two hundred voices cried upon seeing the golden
truck, and “Uncle Roy!” again.
“Enough!” A resonant, transfixing voice spoke from the truck.
“Enough of this. Vote against the law and be done with it!”
“But why, o wirey Uncle Roy?” spoke the chairman.
“Because I have spoken! Now vote!”
Two hundred voices cried “Nay!” against the hated law.
“Good.” The voice from the truck seemed to smile upon the
multitude. “You have done well.”
“Thank you, Uncle Roy” two hundred voices said.
“Yes,” the voice said benevolently. “Come, we will all go to my
house and have a drink to celebrate this glorious decision. ”
THI WIST CIOIOIAN. OCTOM* 11. 1174
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