Harvard and Yale, you may have read, withdrew recently from the federal student loan program in protest over the required loyalty oath. Their action meant a substantial sacrifice, involving more than $500,000. It also brought into focus again what has become an anachronistic nuisance.
Most people accept the loyalty oath as one of the curious appendages of our fearful era. Others go down fighting. A writer, in great demand as a speaker, expresses himself thusly:
"Why is it my driver's license is good for four years but I have to take a loyalty oath every time I get near certain people? Why can't my loyalty be checked once and for all and then perhaps I could be given a card showing that I do not plan to overthrow the government. Every time the matter comes up it could be punched, like a meal ticket."
It isn't likely the flag wavers would approve. With them the ghost of Joe McCarthy still hovers.
A TRUE dog story.
In the town of Walker, north of Bridgeport, Cal., there is a general store and gas station run by George Johnson. A fixture around the place is a dog, part black cocker, named Canyon. He is named Canyon because he was found, as a pup, about three years ago, in a nearby canyon. Now everyone knows and feeds him.
John Prince of Hollywood has a cabin in Walker and while there last weekend noticed a curious thing about Canyon. As a community dog, he doesn't respond particularly as people drive up to the store. But if they're in a blue car he becomes keenly interested. The speculation is that he was let out of a blue car as a pup and is still looking for his master.
NOAH, PLEASE NOTE
There's a change in the
word for a hassle,
The name for a wrangle,
That used to be known as
Is known as a cranberry
EVERY MONDAY night station KPFK-FM presents a 15-minute program titled "Soviet Press and Periodicals." Interested listeners are urged to phone and ask questions.
But not all listeners realize that the program is conducted live in San Francisco by William Mandel and repeated on tape the following Monday here. So since July they've been dialing the THornwall number intended for S.F. listeners and getting a lady in San Fernando Valley. She was mystified but recognized their sincerity and from her meager knowledge of Russia tried to answer them.
Lately she has been swamped with 20 to 30 calls each Monday and has given up. She'd leave the phone off the hook but when she'd put it back there they were, demanding information. When she said she didn't know they'd become angry and ask why the station put out her number if she didn't know the answers. The station has finally come to her rescue, but not entirely. Until further notice, it's the wrong number tale of the year.
DURING A coffee break a couple of working girls, Jeanne and Barbara, were analyzing their personalities, and Jeanne thoughtfully remarked, "No, I don't think I could ever be a nonconformist -- even if everybody else was!"
AROUND TOWN -- You know the line in "The Star Spangled Banner" that goes, "that our flag was still there"? Oldtimers say Sunday was the most reassuring day in months because it was so clear they could see landmarks usually invisible. Even trees and houses on Catalina Island were visible from the mainland. Keith Homeier saw the City Hall from Whittier -- a rare sight . . . Yesterday was another shocking day -- if you were susceptible to static electricity . . . Lalo Guerrero, noted Belvedere troubadour, has recorded a parody of "Mack the Knife" titled "Macario el Carnicero" . . . Harry Cimring refers to platter spinners involved with payola as slipped disc jockeys.