RUTGERS
1973
Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band takes a long, hard look at changes in campus life.
Forming a beer mug on the field, the Band notes that a certain
member of the University administration has declared the Pub to be a
lemon.
This campus resident has complained that the level of noise emanating
from the open windows of the Pub has disturbed his usual nocturnal
activities.
The juke box and bands were almost elemonated this year, and it is
sobering to think what might go next.
Several possible solutions have been suggested, including hiring a
string quartet for Yale weekend, or moving the Joseph Henry House
and the library to New Brunswick -- nothing
ever
happens there.
The Band suggests,
however, that the best solution to this problem is to move
the Pub to the Chapel and rename it "Gordon's Gin Mill"
remembering that "blessed are the poor in spirits, for they shall be
comforted."
The Band notes with dismay McCosh Infirmary's sexist policy of
prescribing contraceptives only to females.
The Band condemns this penalization of the Princeton male.
This example of discriminatory rubber-stamping by the University
administration is SECH a shame.
The Band finally notes that Blakely laundry was washed out in bidding to
provide linen service for the campus.
According to the Aid Office, Blakely's image was stained when their
spotty delivery record left their customers' drawers full of old
sheets and pillowcases.
However, Blakely responded crustily that this was a lot of bunk.
The Band sadly notes that Princeton men will
no longer be lying on Blakely's contours, and bids a fond farewell to
Blakely Laundry.
PENN
1973
Ladies and gentlemen, The Princeton University Band takes a long, hard look at useless publications.
The first currently circulating document of dubious distinction is the
ROTC report.
Commissioned last year to study the military's one-year extension and
to make recommendations for the future, the group pondered...and
reviewed...and discussed...and expanded...and condensed.
Finally, with the deadline coming and the report not in, action had to be
taken.
Encouraged by threats of Corporal Punishment, Major Repairs pulled
himself away from Private Parts and took pencil in hand to write the
report.
Containing many modules of mental midgetry, the document was
released to an anxious campus, and overwhelmingly
approved by General Apathy.
The Band salutes the Admiral Work of the committee.
Next the Band turns its sights to 48 University Place, home of
our favorite campus higher-priced spread.
We are proud to announced publicly for the first time, that several
recent articles from
The Gaily Printsanything
have been selected for inclusion in a new literary anthology entitled:
18 Writing Styles to Avoid.
Fully confident that
The Prince
will exhibit its usual tact and good taste, together with its customary
libelous insults and misquotations, the Band reveals the subject of the
next dynamic, hard-hitting expose: the politics of leaf
collection and ivy clipping.
Forming
- a)
- a Yellow Rag, or
- b)
- all the screws The Prince can fit, or
- c)
- a literary litter,
the Band salutes the true utility of The Prince.
The Band suggests, however, that the most useless publication is
Prospect
magazine, published by the Concerned Reactionary Alumni of
Princeton.
Their commodious office, located on Palmer Square, is so small
you have to go outside to change your mind.
Fortunately, the editors' minds are narrow enough to fit through
the door.
Forming
- a)
- Prospect's contribution to intelligent discourse, or
- b)
- the factual content of one of the better issues, or
- c)
- Kate Smith singing "God Bless America,"
the Band pays a left-handed compliment to our friends on the right.
COLUMBIA
October 6, 1973
Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band takes a long, hard look at places we'd hate to be.
One place we would least like to find outselves is in the shoes
of that illustrious statesman, Spiro T. Agnew.
News leaks from Washington indicate that our verbally vexatious
Vice-President has been soliciting funds for the renovation of his
new "Western White House" at San Quentin.
However,
far from abandoning his political aspirations, Agnew seems well on
his way to yet another term.
Forming a license plate on the field, the Band wishes him well in his
solitary quest against impending prohibition.
Will Spiro ever find a home without a bar?
(Band forms a license plate with a 2 in it)
Speaking of coffins, can you
think of a worse place to be?
Well, that is exactly where Lady Li Tsang spent the last couple of
millenia.
Amazed at the excellently preserved body, scientists at the excavation
site in China have estimated Lady Li's age at 2,137
years, to which Dr. Kung Fu, discoverer of the tomb, responded gravely,
"Funny, she don't look a day past 800!"
Utilizing sophisticated techniques, doctors were even able to determine
the Ladi Li had borne children.
Asked to comment, she said, "I don't feel much like a mummy!"
(Band forms 'MOM')
Speaking of confinement, the Band would hate to share the plight of those
champions of isolation, the submariners.
To ease the strain created by "stimulus impoverishment," these
sailors vie for space in the sonar room to hear the mating calls
of whales.
Or, when obsessed by the dangers of the turbulent sea, submariners often
find themselves prowling around the craft hunting for leaks in the
six-inch-thick steel hull.
The Band sympathizes with these brave and
lonely seamen, making their way through the
swirling brine of the bottomless abyss.
(Band forms submarine)
All kidding about jails, coffins, and sea floors aside, though, folks,
the place we'd most hate to be is situated right here at the bottom of
the Ivy League -- Columbia University!
(Band forms underscore)
CORNELL
1973
Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band takes a long, hard look at The Guiness Book of World Records.
Laying an egg on the field, the Band notes that the fastest recorded time
for plucking chickens was set in the 1970 contest at Miami, Florida, on
November 15, when a team of four women plucked three birds each naked
in 6 minutes, 31 seconds, so averaging 2 minutes 10.4 seconds a piece.
The Band comments, "For a naked chicken, that ain't bad!"
Forming a crestfallen cock on the field, the Band salutes this definitive
demonstration of dynamic digital dexterity.
Speaking of world's records, the record for the fastest weight loss is
held by a Cornell coed, Ms. Dolly Dimples.
Dolly, who was an animal husbandry major until they caught her at it,
lost 400 lbs. in 15 minutes when she gave birth to a cow on the floor of
the Big Red Co-op.
When asked to comment on her great loss, she replied, "I always
thought Prof. Bovus was full of bull."
Speaking of Cornell students, the world's most brainless animal was
the stegosaurus, also known as the lesser morondon, which weighed in
at up to 4,000 pounds but had a walnut-sized brain weighing only
2.5 ounces.
It roamed widely across the Northern Hemisphere about
150 million years ago, trying to remember where it had been.
Constantly outwitted by trilobites and a number of advanced ferns,
the last stegosaurus became extinct when informed that his SAT scores
were too low to get into anyplace except Cornell.
Forming a walnut-sized brain on the field, the Band overhears the
stegosaurus' plaintive cry.
BROWN
1973
Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band takes a long, hard look at lunchmeat.
First the Band rests its weary feet beneath the sign of the fallen
arches.
It has recently been made public that McDonald's has surpassed the
12 billion mark in hamburger sales, and, to celebrate, killed their
second cow.
In an exclusive interview with the Xavier Lax, purchaser of the
12 billionth hamburger, the Band queried, "How did you find your
meet?"
Lax replied, "I lifted up my pickle and there it was."
Noting that McDonald's was one of the few restaurants unaffected by the
recent meat shortage, the Band asks, "What's your beef?" and
answers musically with "The Horse."
Passing on to our next piece of lunchmeat, the Band bites into
Otto Kerner, former governor of Illinois, Brown class of 1930.
Otto first captured the public imagination at the precocious age
of 5 1/2 when he copped the Boy Scout's elusive silver
beaver award
by helping his first old lady cross a six-lane divided highway.
After an outstanding undergraduate career at Brown, Otto was admitted
to the Illinois Bar in 1934 and put behind the Illinois' bars in 1968.
Forming a brown-out in the legal profession, the Band salutes this fine
example of "Brown in The Nation's Service,"
and overhears Otto's lament.
Speaking of meat-packing, the Band salutes that Mary Poppins of the meat
world, that winsome man selling tin-canned ham, the Princeton
weenie man.
Like Princeton's postmen who deliver the meat whether it's
"chile today or hot tamale," the weenie man delivers
his
meaty wares outside the dorms and (pause) under the stairs.
Many weenie men have gone on to even greater fame, and at least two,
Justice Frank Furter and Chief Justice Warren "Whopper" Burger
have warmed their buns in the Supreme Court.
Forming
- a)
- a 1000% pure meat weenie
- b)
- a mustard stain, or
- c)
- the newest addition to Princeton's modern sculpture collection,
the Band notes the approach of colder weather and warns our favorite weenie man that "It's never to early to try snow tires and to add anti-freeze to the sauerkraut."
HAHVAHD
1973
Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band takes a long, hard look at the Presidency.
Turning its attention to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, the Band listens
in as an impeachable White House souse discloses the President's
keen interest in averting a national energy crisis.
In an effort to head off a personal power failure, Mr. Nixon has
decided to conserve energy by shrinking his staff.
In addition, the President has arranged to generate his own heat
by modifying the White House furnace to burn discarded papers
and tapes.
Forming
- a)
- an inoperative tape system, or
- b)
- a shred of evidence, or
- c)
- Nixon's latest Gallup Poll mandate,
the Band overhears Nixon getting his instructions down pat.
Marching out to the White House garage, the Band observes
the addition of a new shock absorber to the Nixon household.
This new, low-noise Ford, completely equipped with built-in tape
deck and pollution controls, is known to get good mileage, but
can't blow its horn and drive straight at the same time.
Dodging and darting around Washington, this model has run into
one hearing after another issuing its plaintive plea...VEEP, VEEP.
While Ford's suggestions may be good, the Band has a better
idea.
The Band next looks in on the Justice Department, at the office
of former Watergate Special Prosecutor Archibald Cox.
The Special Prosecutor was first appointed by the President to
probe the depths of the Watergate Affair, but his investigation
was pressed so far that Nixon discharged Cox.
The Band observes that Nixon really feared that Cox was
Finally, the Band notes that, only three days after we did an
Agnew joke at Columbia, Vice President Agnew resigned.
With this in mind, we dedicate our show today to
President Richard M. Nixon.
YALE (DARTMOUTH!!)
1973
Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band takes a long, hard look at heavenly bodies.
The Band first trains its telescope
on a celestial phenomenon known as the
black hole, a topic of recent research by Princeton's noted Professor
of Physics, John A. Wheeler.
Professor Wheeler has found them
to be dense concentrations of antimatter;
the only denser entities known to man are Yalies and the editors of
Prospect magazine.
An outstanding characteristic of these hitherto unprobed
entities is their
inclination to absorb anything that comes within their sphere of
influence.
Professor Wheeler's course climaxes with a trip to
New Haven for first-hand
exploration of the only black hole in the Ivy League.
Forming
- a)
- a black hole
- b)
- a sphere of influence, or
- c)
- a naval orange,
the Band notes that
The Band now directs your attention upward, and reminds you of the
coming of a new comet this month.
We all know that comets display magnificent tails, and astronomers inform
us that they are actually frigid bodies of gases.
In recognition of the celestial occurence, the Band proposes renaming the
comet in honor of Yale's principal benefactor.
Forming
- a)
- a comet,
- b)
- a coming event,
- c)
- Yale's principal benefactor, or
- d)
- none of the above,
the Band notes that "Eli's Comin'."
With the termination of the Skylab program,
the Band proposes new directions
for NASA's rockets.
An exciting space probe could include penetration of the asteroid
belt, observation of Jupiter's gyrating moons, and an exploration of
the plutonic relationship between Venus and Uranus.
Forming
- a)
- a moon of Jupiter,
- b)
- an asteroid belt, or
- c)
- a NASA hole,
the Band sends its best wishes to Mission Control and gives three cheers for Old NASA.
(If
yalies
throw oranges)
Thank you, ladies and gentlemen; this show has been brought to you by the
Florida Citrus-Growers Association.
COLGATE
1973
Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band takes a long, hard look at Freshman Parent's Day.
The Band first peeks in on Mom and Dad as they mount the stairs at 7:37
Saturday morning. eagerly anticipating a warm reunion with their
long-lost offspring.
Little do they know that their
darling is still recovering from a long, hard
night at the Chancellor Green Library.
Forming
- a)
- a blood-shot eye, or
- b)
- the bottom of a beer mug, or
- c)
- the cruel, early-morning sun,
the Band overhears Charley's lament.
Moving right along,
the Band watches Mom and Dad as they are subjected to a
lively round of panel discussions.
Their first flop -- er, stop is "The Efficient Use of
University Funds," chaired by
Prof. Marvey Breezler, renowned for his long-awaited commission
report which proved conclusively that there is no problem, and therefore
no solution.
Forming a 1500-page report, complete with graphs, statistics, maps,
pictures, blueprints, and quotations from the
Harvard Law Review,
the Band applauds Prof. Breezler's windy conclusions and overhears his
final comment: "Everything's hunky-dory in Tigertown."
At long last, we follow Mom and Dad to the panel discussion entitled
"Living and Learning at Princeton" or, "Everything You Always
Wanted to Know About Dorm Life, But Were Afraid to Ask,"
chaired by the Dean of Student Affairs.
We overhear the panel discussing such burning campus topics as new
housing, and cohabitation, academics, and cohabitation, extracurricular
activities, and cohabitation, ROTC, and cohabitation.
When asked to comment on "viable social alternatives," one
University administrator replied lucidly, "It is sometimes thought
by many of the students that in most, but by no means all, cases it is
certainly true that social alternatives did been had, but by this time
already, we don't got some, ain't it."
The Band salutes this forthright statement on a critical campus issue.
Finally, Mom and Dad move on to Palmer Stadium just in time to witness
the most exciting, stupendous extravaganza on campus, presented by those
pernicious perveyors of playful perversity, The Princeton
University Band.
DARTMOUTH
October 27, 1973
Ladies and gentlemen, the United Press International Band present news on the march. (opening from "Dragnet Theme") The story you are about to hear is true. Only the names have to changed to protect the innocent.
(Band marches out to theme)
President Carl Albert today vetoed a prison reform bill which would
have allowed political prisoners to be placed on parole after
three and one half hours.
(Band forms 'PEN')
Attorney General John Siricca announced a clearance sale at the
White House including 1500 reels of slightly-used recording tape.
(Band forms precision marching tape recorder)
Vice President Thomas Eagleton electrified the nation before a battery
of reporters with his shocking treatment of the present energy crisis.
He charged that Con Edison's resistance to transforming their rates to
maintain the present guidelines would result in a federal antitrust
suit.
(Band spells 'AC-DC')
Acting Director of the FBI, Walter Cronkite...... (auf Deutch)
It is with great pleasure that in spite of heaving in Washington I can
now say that peace is at hand.
We control the airwaves, the bus stations and the capitol.
Resistance across the nation is collapsing.
(Band forms 'FBI', changes to 'SS!')
And that's the way it is, 1973.
(Band forms '1973')
And I'll bet you thought you wouldn't have Dick Nixon to kick around
anymore.
(Band forms '1984')