Dear Bob,
Once more this observer is writing from the fabled playground of the East, New Hampshire, and as I look out my window this early Sunday afternoon, a not uncommon sight is a gaily-clad person skiing down the sidewalk in the direction of the golf course ski tow. We have six inches of snow on the ground, and temperatures well below freezing.
Such weather, as you might guess, doesn't exactly encourage Frisbee contests, so I've had to turn elsewhere for entertainment. I've found it mainly in playing whist a game in which I'm unfortunately losing much money.
The other day, short on money, I decided to find a less expensive method of wasting time, so one of the fellows down the hall and I decided to construct icicles. We finally ended up constructing an elaborate system of troughs and tubing for conveying water from the faucet in the john out the window, down a rope reaching from the fourth floor to the ground. Since the temperature was well below zero, we soon had an icicle four stories in length and of a considerable diameter. Unfortunately, the rope was unable to support the weight, and when we inspected our fully-automatic icicle machine in the morning we found the icicle forming a huge mound of ice on the ground. We used so much ingenuity in making our icicle machine that I feel I am wasting my time in liberal arts.
I wrote S a letter last week, but I'm afraid I tried to "snow" her too much. I told her what a nice time I had, etc. and then asked her to go see the Dartmouth Glee Club concert in Chicago if I get home for spring vacation. I received a letter from her last Thursday, and while it wasn't spectacular it was promising. You may construe that as you like.
Anyway, she accepted my invitation, and now all I have to do is get home.
Fortunately (unfortunately?) I haven't been pining away about her, for I can't remember what she looks like, but I asked her to send me a picture, so fond, torturing memories may be returning very shortly. My finals start a week from Wednesday, so I probably won't write again 'til after Carnival. I've invited that girl from Cortland College in N.Y., but she hasn't answered yet. She must be of the leave-them-hanging-by-the-thumbs school.
With radiator hissing, this reporter bids you fond farewell from this winter wonderland.
Tom
Friday, November 30, 2012
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Dec. 12, 1967
Dear Thom,
Your last letter on Eastern sadism as it is practiced at Dartmouth moved me deeply, although I imagine it moved you much more deeply. I fail to realize why man's inhumanity to man must continue; however I suppose out of such practices the seeds of tradition spring. I trust your days of torture are over.
I am going to work for the P.O. this year I think, I have to go into the main P.O. in Chicago this Saturday (14th) for an interview - - 7 bucks shot on train fare.
The tests are still coming thick and fast. They are going to screw me before Christmas or die trying.
Time to go to breakfast. I'll finish when I come back. Got to put on my Engineer boots - - 8 inches of new snow.
- - Breakfast- -
I have returned across the barren wastes of the quadrangle to complete this letter.
Joke of the week:
Russia's latest attempt to be first in everything. They are going to put three live cows in their next satellite.
It will be the first herd shot round the world.
I'll be home for x'mas.
Bob
Your last letter on Eastern sadism as it is practiced at Dartmouth moved me deeply, although I imagine it moved you much more deeply. I fail to realize why man's inhumanity to man must continue; however I suppose out of such practices the seeds of tradition spring. I trust your days of torture are over.
I am going to work for the P.O. this year I think, I have to go into the main P.O. in Chicago this Saturday (14th) for an interview - - 7 bucks shot on train fare.
The tests are still coming thick and fast. They are going to screw me before Christmas or die trying.
Time to go to breakfast. I'll finish when I come back. Got to put on my Engineer boots - - 8 inches of new snow.
- - Breakfast- -
I have returned across the barren wastes of the quadrangle to complete this letter.
Joke of the week:
Russia's latest attempt to be first in everything. They are going to put three live cows in their next satellite.
It will be the first herd shot round the world.
I'll be home for x'mas.
Bob
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Dec. 1, 1957
Dear Bob,
How the mighty have fallen! First we and then Oklahoma! What's the world coming to? I suppose the nodamners were very happy to have pulled the upset of the year. There was black crepe paper hanging everywhere on our campus that weekend. Maybe next year.
In your last letter you mentioned the song "Peggy Sue", is that the one that goes:
"Peggy Sue
I'd like to conjugate with you"?
Your last letter was very entertaining. I noticed the cardboard cylinder containing it only when I was on my way to my sociology hour exam, and, not realizing its length, I started reading it.
I was five minutes late for the exam.
Speaking of being late for exams, I pulled a real boner last week for my economics exam; I thought it was to start at 7:30 when it really began at 7. I walked in at 7:25, and my prof rushed up to me with a sick(ening?) look on his face and asked me what had happened. Taken
askance, I asked him what the hell right he had to start the exam without me. He quickly apologized, and at the same time he offered to give me some extra time; but not to obligate myself to him I refused and finished the exam in thirty-five minutes. I'm dying to see my mark!
Speaking of death and related topics, I would suggest that you desist from rolling up your
voluminous letters until they resemble a cigarette unless you are o the opinion that your
unexpected death would result in your joining the heavenly choirs as a scroll-roller.
I'm sorry to hear that you have been so influenced by the School of Economics that you think nothing of defacing the very premises in which you live. Such is the corrosive power of greed.
Last Monday night was Hell Night at my fraternity. By virtue of my having endured that evening, I am now in a position to assume the full responsibilities and privileges of a brother next week at our initiation.
We were forced to do different things on Hell Night - - mostly things of a degrading nature. We (twenty-two of us pledges) had to sit in a very small room (its name will give you some indication of its size; it's called the Maidenhead.) and smoke cheap cigars for about twenty minutes.
We then had to disrobe down to our shorts and had to crawl on our hands and knees all through the house while the sadistic brothers used paddles to prod us along. We had to crawl on our hands and knees up two flights of stairs, and then we had to swallow a couple of pills which were supposed to make us piss green for two days. Evidently I didn't take enough pills for I have noticed no unusual reactions. My eyeballs turned green, but that's a usual reaction at this time of year - - the Christmas season.
We then had to crawl down into the basement and there received more abuses, e.g. voice standing in back of bright light . "Do you love the brothers?" Feather-covered pledge sitting on cake of ice while someone pours cold water down his back: "No, No, No!" Voice, etc. "You ungrateful son-of-a bitch!" followed quickly by cold and hot water alternately. Voice etc. reiterates question. Feather-covered etc: "Yes, Yes, Yes!!" voice etc: "Hey guys look, we've got a fairy in the house!!"
Returning once more to civilization, I spent Thanksgiving vacation in a Cistercian monastery in
Spencer, Mass. I have not, am not, and will not consider becoming a monk. The monastery was nice to take a tour through, but I wouldn't want to live there.
I should get home for Christmas on the 15th and will be looking forward to seeing you soon thereafter.
Tom
P.S. I have enclosed an article from "Ivy Magazine" thinking you might like to be the Frisbee organizer on your campus.
How the mighty have fallen! First we and then Oklahoma! What's the world coming to? I suppose the nodamners were very happy to have pulled the upset of the year. There was black crepe paper hanging everywhere on our campus that weekend. Maybe next year.
In your last letter you mentioned the song "Peggy Sue", is that the one that goes:
"Peggy Sue
I'd like to conjugate with you"?
Your last letter was very entertaining. I noticed the cardboard cylinder containing it only when I was on my way to my sociology hour exam, and, not realizing its length, I started reading it.
I was five minutes late for the exam.
Speaking of being late for exams, I pulled a real boner last week for my economics exam; I thought it was to start at 7:30 when it really began at 7. I walked in at 7:25, and my prof rushed up to me with a sick(ening?) look on his face and asked me what had happened. Taken
askance, I asked him what the hell right he had to start the exam without me. He quickly apologized, and at the same time he offered to give me some extra time; but not to obligate myself to him I refused and finished the exam in thirty-five minutes. I'm dying to see my mark!
Speaking of death and related topics, I would suggest that you desist from rolling up your
voluminous letters until they resemble a cigarette unless you are o the opinion that your
unexpected death would result in your joining the heavenly choirs as a scroll-roller.
I'm sorry to hear that you have been so influenced by the School of Economics that you think nothing of defacing the very premises in which you live. Such is the corrosive power of greed.
Last Monday night was Hell Night at my fraternity. By virtue of my having endured that evening, I am now in a position to assume the full responsibilities and privileges of a brother next week at our initiation.
We were forced to do different things on Hell Night - - mostly things of a degrading nature. We (twenty-two of us pledges) had to sit in a very small room (its name will give you some indication of its size; it's called the Maidenhead.) and smoke cheap cigars for about twenty minutes.
We then had to disrobe down to our shorts and had to crawl on our hands and knees all through the house while the sadistic brothers used paddles to prod us along. We had to crawl on our hands and knees up two flights of stairs, and then we had to swallow a couple of pills which were supposed to make us piss green for two days. Evidently I didn't take enough pills for I have noticed no unusual reactions. My eyeballs turned green, but that's a usual reaction at this time of year - - the Christmas season.
We then had to crawl down into the basement and there received more abuses, e.g. voice standing in back of bright light . "Do you love the brothers?" Feather-covered pledge sitting on cake of ice while someone pours cold water down his back: "No, No, No!" Voice, etc. "You ungrateful son-of-a bitch!" followed quickly by cold and hot water alternately. Voice etc. reiterates question. Feather-covered etc: "Yes, Yes, Yes!!" voice etc: "Hey guys look, we've got a fairy in the house!!"
Returning once more to civilization, I spent Thanksgiving vacation in a Cistercian monastery in
Spencer, Mass. I have not, am not, and will not consider becoming a monk. The monastery was nice to take a tour through, but I wouldn't want to live there.
I should get home for Christmas on the 15th and will be looking forward to seeing you soon thereafter.
Tom
P.S. I have enclosed an article from "Ivy Magazine" thinking you might like to be the Frisbee organizer on your campus.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Nov. 18, 1957 (Continued)
As if that wasn't enough, the administration is on my neck because of the signs I put up on the face of the hall on football weekends (home games).
I was merely trying to actively compete with the other halls for the money of the irrational consumers, but they (the administration) felt that a sign 16 ft. long and 8 ft. wide demanding that
one and all "Eat Here" in bright vermillion letters was carrying the profit motive too far, especially since it was accompanied by 3 lesser signs, "We Give Green Stamps", "Eat at Howard Hall", and "Recommended by Duncan Hines", each 8 ft. by 4 ft. and in various colors.
After the Pitt game, I was given a blunt note to the effect that I must never erect an edifice of that nature again.
Well you can imagine their consternation when I put the same signs up for the Navy game
(I'm not in Commerce for nothing).
I have just now received another note threatening dire things if I stage another performance for the Iowas game this Saturday. I have not yet decided what to do.
As you can see I have been very busy, what with fighting the administration, the hall council, the fauna indigenous to the 4th floor, and the elements (It was 45 degrees in my room at 5:00 A.M. this morning). I'm going to have to weather strip the windows.
As for P. I wrote her one letter which she answered. I wrote her another letter which she did not answer. From this I must assume that I am no longer an integral part of her life (ho, ho that's a good one).
If you can think of a good reason for writing to her, I suggest you do so, if you are still interested in her. I feel that you will meet with better success than I did.
In my last letter to her I implied that because of my business commitments (sandwich concession) I would be unable to enjoy her company down here. This may have influenced her
decision to terminate our correspondence.
However, I don't think this is the case. I believe she merely found greener pastures. I still think very highly of her; in fact I was about to declare that she indeed was "the Indies" when unfortunately the friendly natives began making hostile overtures.
What I want to find is a girl who will at least write and tell me that she is no longer going to write to me. It is unnerving to be abruptly cut off.
As I have stated before, I feel she is rather found of you. The chief reason for this is that you ignore her on occasions, such as fooling with K in the water and disregarding P, also you
tease her consistently while I on the other hand do everything I can to patronize her. The result of this is, I believe, that she has fathomed me completely while she cannot quite figure you out. She naturally is interested in discovering if you really like her or not. This thought came to me
last night. I may be way off base, but right now is sounds pretty good. however, for all I know
she might be pushing a baby carriage by now.
I have been three days in writing this letter. I think I'm about done. Parts of this may not make sense. I.m not going to reread it. It's too damn long.
No, we didn't get any snow down here when Chicago did. We haven't had any snow yet, except for one day.
I guess that's about all. I'll try to write more often.
In summing up the "P" situation I suggest you write. If she is not going steady or worse, you
should score.
I have to get a new pen.
Bob
I was merely trying to actively compete with the other halls for the money of the irrational consumers, but they (the administration) felt that a sign 16 ft. long and 8 ft. wide demanding that
one and all "Eat Here" in bright vermillion letters was carrying the profit motive too far, especially since it was accompanied by 3 lesser signs, "We Give Green Stamps", "Eat at Howard Hall", and "Recommended by Duncan Hines", each 8 ft. by 4 ft. and in various colors.
After the Pitt game, I was given a blunt note to the effect that I must never erect an edifice of that nature again.
Well you can imagine their consternation when I put the same signs up for the Navy game
(I'm not in Commerce for nothing).
I have just now received another note threatening dire things if I stage another performance for the Iowas game this Saturday. I have not yet decided what to do.
As you can see I have been very busy, what with fighting the administration, the hall council, the fauna indigenous to the 4th floor, and the elements (It was 45 degrees in my room at 5:00 A.M. this morning). I'm going to have to weather strip the windows.
As for P. I wrote her one letter which she answered. I wrote her another letter which she did not answer. From this I must assume that I am no longer an integral part of her life (ho, ho that's a good one).
If you can think of a good reason for writing to her, I suggest you do so, if you are still interested in her. I feel that you will meet with better success than I did.
In my last letter to her I implied that because of my business commitments (sandwich concession) I would be unable to enjoy her company down here. This may have influenced her
decision to terminate our correspondence.
However, I don't think this is the case. I believe she merely found greener pastures. I still think very highly of her; in fact I was about to declare that she indeed was "the Indies" when unfortunately the friendly natives began making hostile overtures.
What I want to find is a girl who will at least write and tell me that she is no longer going to write to me. It is unnerving to be abruptly cut off.
As I have stated before, I feel she is rather found of you. The chief reason for this is that you ignore her on occasions, such as fooling with K in the water and disregarding P, also you
tease her consistently while I on the other hand do everything I can to patronize her. The result of this is, I believe, that she has fathomed me completely while she cannot quite figure you out. She naturally is interested in discovering if you really like her or not. This thought came to me
last night. I may be way off base, but right now is sounds pretty good. however, for all I know
she might be pushing a baby carriage by now.
I have been three days in writing this letter. I think I'm about done. Parts of this may not make sense. I.m not going to reread it. It's too damn long.
No, we didn't get any snow down here when Chicago did. We haven't had any snow yet, except for one day.
I guess that's about all. I'll try to write more often.
In summing up the "P" situation I suggest you write. If she is not going steady or worse, you
should score.
I have to get a new pen.
Bob
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