Poundles

Combined Science, known to students as "Com Sci", was a required course for non-science majors at Occidental.  In today's world, Com Sci would be renamed: "Science for Dummies".  If you wanted to avoid taking advanced math, physics, chemistry, marine biology, or geology; you had to take Com Sci in order to graduate.  Not a bad deal actually as there was an implied agreement that the Com Sci instructors were going to go easy on us schmucks.

The Com Sci classes drew about 150 students instead of 400, as was the case with the other required class - history of civilization.  The instructors were drawn from the science department faculty and didn't seem to mind covering the basic fundamentals in their respective specialties.  I would usually sit with a handful of guys that I was just getting to know.  In high school, I had a few friends but I was an outsider with no social activities or groups that were of any interest to me.  I was finding that this new group I was spending time with was something altogether different.  These kids were a year older, were out from under their parent's roof, and didn't all come from the same hometown.  They were pretty wild as the people, rules and consequences that may have influenced them to behave as human beings had been removed. 

Occidental is a small school and although it had a few fraternities and sororities they were a far cry from what one finds at large schools.  We had no alumni who ever returned to visit, and although there was a national headquarters, there was no interaction whatsoever.  A group would raise hell together for a few years and then disperse, and in turn, be replaced by a new and different group with no carryover.

I was in a fraternity that had a basketball player named Hunter.  He sometimes would stutter slightly.  On Monday nights, the 40 or so active members would gather at the fraternity house for dinner.  It was the only regular activity that I can recall.  Toward the end of the dinner, there were usually some announcements and a discussion if needed.  Hunter would occasionally stand up and have something to tell the group.  While he was speaking, if he were to stumble on a word or two, many in the group would start howling and pelt Hunter with bread rolls.  Hunter would keep right on going until he finished what he had to say.  He actually got a kick out of it and would throw rolls back at the hecklers  This went on for a few years and may or may not have had any impact, but Hunter's slight stutter was gone before we graduated.

My turn to be harassed came the night I showed up in a new suit.  I had gone to Roberts Clothing Store which had been in business on Colorado Blvd ever since I moved to Eagle Rock in 1949.  I am not a shopper for anything other than food.  As far as clothes go, I know nothing about clothes and care less.  Jeans, t-shirt and tennis shoes have served me well since kindergarten.  I did not own much in the way of a coat and tie but they were required for Monday night dinners.  I decided to take a look and see if there was anything on sale.  The salesman told me I was in luck, and steered me to a suit marked down to $9.00.  It was corduroy, jet-black and double breasted.  I tried it on and it fit well enough that the pants' length didn't need to be altered.  I don't know how this would go over today, but in 1967, when I walked into the house for Monday night dinner, I might as well have been in drag.  There was onslaught of guffaws, open-mouth gaping and insults.  When I mentioned that it had only cost $9.00, my jacket was forcibly removed and thrown out onto the front lawn.  I was forbidden to wear the jacket in the dinning room.  A collection was taken up and I was presented with $9.00.

The Com Sci lectures were presented in a small auditorium.  Most of the time people would sit in the same place.  The faculty were also creatures of habit and would sit in the back rows on the left side.  Mikelson would often end up sitting behind a girl named Vicky King.  Vicky seemed to favor outfits with a bare midriff.  Mikelson claimed that she had a growth on her back, a little below her waist, and centered right on her spine.  There was an inch-and-a-half-long thin fleshy cord that suspended a skin-colored ball, the size of a pea, that sported a half-dozen very thick black hairs.  No one else had ever seen it but Mikelson swore it was there, and classified it as a "tetherball wart".

It was just a matter of time.  Wilson and I were sitting on either side of Mikelson one morning when Vicky came into the auditorium, went down the aisle, and crossed over to a seat in front of Mikelson.  She was wearing one of those bare midriff numbers and turned to sit with her back to us.  As she began to bend and lower herself into her seat, her underwear was visible just above the top of her skirt.  As she moved downward into her seat, the stress on her elastic waist band thrust out what looked like a small tarantula twirling on the end of a string with long black legs.  The four of us gasped.  Mikelson, looking for a means of escape, started toward the back of the auditorium, climbing over rows of seats. Wilson and I moved to seats on opposite sides of the auditorium.

In keeping with the understanding that the faculty was going to go easy on us, the Com Sci midterm was a take-home exam.  It was either all, or mostly all, multiple choice as I recall.  One of the questions had to do with force being exerted on, or by something.  The question asked what would be the proper unit of measure, with choices such as foot pounds, pounds per square inch, etc.  One of the choices was "poundles".  I had no idea what poundles were nor did I know what the correct answer was.  However, my thinking was that if I selected poundles, and it turned out to be a typo, it would not count against me.  If poundles was indeed correct, well that would be a bonus.  I completed the test and turned it in.

Weeks later, we were sitting in the Com Sci class and one of the faculty was about to hand us back our midterms which had been graded.  With the stack of exams in his hands he cleared his throat and said, "By the way.  There was an obvious typo on the test where 'poundles' appeared when it should have been 'pounds'.  There of course is no such thing as poundles and your answer was scored as incorrect if you selected it".

Evidently I was not the only moron who picked it as there was an immediate angry buzz that filled the auditorium.  They had either picked it or could see the injustice of it all.  The sound was intense enough that Dr. McAnally, the head of the Com Sci program, stepped up to front and spent a minute defending this decision.

As the semester continued, a new wrinkle developed during the Com Sci lectures.  Sitting in the front row everyday was a graduate student that was a teaching assistant for the regular science classes.  We figured he was there as part of his duties and helped grade exams for the Com Sci course.  When Dr. Segal lectured he would often turn to the grad student for the answer when no one else in the auditorium could come up with it.  He was very forgiving of us and we all appreciated his patience. The grad student also developed a following where we would pull for him to come up with the answer when Dr. Segal had him cornered.  It was entertaining to watch these two match wits and spar with each other, even though we had only the vaguest notion of the subject matter.

One morning during a lecture by Dr. Segal, the grad student was called upon as the rest of us had lost all track of where things were going.  Dr. Segal was working left to right on the board, pulling and coaxing each step from the grad student.  They had arrived at the last of the missing pieces, and Dr. Segal was trying to draw it out of the grad student.  Dr Segal said, "Come on, you know this.  I know you know this".

The grad student was just slowly shaking his head side-to-side.  Dr. Segal said, "You got us this far.  We already know this comes out as .017, but .017 what?'

The grad student continued to study the board but said nothing.  There followed two or three seconds of total quiet.  The silence in the auditorium was palpable. 

I suggested aloud, "Poundles?'

This went over pretty well with the class.  It took half a minute for the commotion to die down.

I had been sitting in my new spot, far away from Vicky King, on the left side, about half way to the front.  In this spot I had completely missed what had taken place behind me.  When the class was over and I was leaving, Don Main came up to me and said, "It's okay, I just checked outside and there's no sign of McAnally".

I didn't understand what he was talking about. I said, "Whadaya mean?"

Don said, "When he heard you say poundles he started down the aisle after you.

The other teachers pulled him back and took him outside".

This sounded really strange.  I didn't know what to say.

Don said, "The people in front were laughing at poundles.  In the back, we were all laughing at McAnally".