The Des Moines Register from Des Moines, Iowa on July 27, 1969 · Page 85
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July 27, 1969

A Publisher Extra Newspaper

The Des Moines Register from Des Moines, Iowa · Page 85

Des Moines, Iowa
Issue Date:
Sunday, July 27, 1969
Page 85
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Page 85 article text (OCR)

By JUDITH RANDAL and JAMES WELSH TlyingUoofcs Washington^ D. C. • Library service has joined the air age. Pennsylvania State University, with its relatively isolated main campus in central Pennsylvania, employs a "flying bookmobile" air service. It enables the university to borrow books from the national Libraries of Congress, Medicine, and Agriculture in Washington with same-day delivery. Penn State has other new library-service wrinkles that could be used by colleges with large campuses and branch campuses. Telcfacsimile machines, which can copy information and send it out, are in operation at eight of the University's campuses. On the main campus, faculty members enjoy the twice-daily service of a library van. This vehicle makes the rounds of campus buildings delivering and picking up library books for the professors. Now in the works is a plan for Penn State and six other universities to share library materials through air service and telecopying devices. INSTANT COLLEGE: Need a college for your community in a hurry? The recipe for a relatively "instant college" has come from the creation of Northern Virginia Community College. When the college was first authorized, it had only a president, Robert L. McKee. He had no staff, no buildings or land, no equipment, no curricula, no students. Yet just three months later, the college opened its doors to 700 students. What McKee did was turn to PERT (Program Evaluation and Review Technique), a planning system which has been used to plan everything from military bases to new industrial products. It is simply a pattern for logically scheduling each step that must be carried out to accomplish a given task by a certain time. With community colleges emerging at the rate of one week across the country, the U.S. Office of Education has, decided that other communities can learn from McKee's accomplishment. The Northern Virginia crash program is now described in a report (ED-o 10-020) that can be obtained from ERIC Document Reproduction Service, 4936 Fairmont Ave., Bethesda, Md. 20014. CANCER TEST: A Brooklyn, N. Y., physician has designed a two-step test that distinguishes between malignant tumors of the kidney and benign hollow cysts. The tests, developed by Dr. Eiias Rand of the Maimoni- des Medical Center, can often be done on an out-patient basis, eliminating the need for costly hospitalization and somewhat risky X-ray procedures. As a first step, Rand injects a radioactive tracer into the blood stream and then follows its progress as it travels through the kidney. This helps him to determine whether the growth is a solid tumor or a cyst, but Rand makes no judgment until the results of a second kind of examination' are in. . That one is performed by placing a transducer over the suspected area, bombarding it with ultrasound (sound waves beyond the range of human hearing), then recording the echoes. If the growth is a cyst, echoes will return from the near and far walls, but none will be detected from the space between the walls. If, however, the mass is a solid tumor, echoes will reverberate from throughout the growth. Q The c9VIaineToint v CHARLIE RICE'S J»UNCHBOWL II I ou can always tell a State of Mainer, but you can't tell him much!" — Daniel Boont. T'other day, I met up with this here whipper-snapper- called Marshall Dodge, and *I hear tell that he makes a livin' out of crackin' State of Maine jokes. Now, Marshall and me, we got along real fine on account of our feelin' a kinship. I myself ain't rightly a State of Mainer, but my maw was born in Meddybemps, and of all the towns in Maine, Meddyberaps is the Maine-est. Okay, let's drop the dialect now. The point is that you'll be seeing young Marshall Dodge soon on a TV special — and you may have heard him already on records about two Maine lobstermen called Bert and L According to Marshall, the reason that Maine winters are so long is to give the natives time to think up smart cracks to spring on the city slickers who visit Maine in the summer. Perhaps the most famous of these cracks is as follows: City-slicker motoriit (to farmer in Cape Porpoise): How far is it to Kennebunkport?" Farmer: 'Bout thutty thousand miles, the way you're headin*. I don't want to embarrass young Marshall, but my mother told me that one nigh onto futty years ago, and in her version the farmer added: "Better watch out — there's some patches of damp wheelin'on the way." According to Marshall Dodge (incidentally, he likes to be called Mike) — accordin' to Mike Dodge, the most sus- picionin* man in all Maine was a fellow named Noah, who lived near Sabbathday Pond. One day, Noah's rich uncle up and died, and left him $127.73. Now, Noah had never set great store by banks, but there was no place else to go get the check cashed. So the teller fellow, he counted out 127 dollars, bill by bill, and 73 cents, coin by coin. And Noah, he counted it out bill by bill and coin by coin, and then he looked suspicious-like. "What's the matter? asked the teller. "It's right, ain't it?" "Yup," muttered Noah, "but just barely!" Which reminds me of old Elmer, who used to own a parcel near Chemquassa- bamticook. One day his wife, Drucilla, was readin* him a piece out of the Bangor Bugle t and it said that Andrew Carnegie came to America when he was a young man, and a few years later he had a million dollars. "Hmm," said Elmer. "Must've wed him a real savin' woman." And that's what I like about Maine folk; they're real savin* —T especially with words. Here are a few examples: Summer viator: Where does this road go? Farmer: Don't go nowhere — it stays right here. Summer visitor: My, there are a lot of old people in town. What's your death rate? Farmer: 'Bout one to a person. Summer viator: Can you tell me how to get to West Athens? Farmer: Vcan't get there from here. Summer viator: Don't you people here in Maine ever talk? Farmer: Only when we can improve the silence. Summer viator (to iobsterman): I'll bet you know where every rock on the coast is. Lobtterman: Nope. But I know where they ain't. It isn't very often that Maine folk venture outside the state, but Mike Dodge has a favorite story about two ladies from Portland, Maine who traveled all the way across the nation to Portland, Oregon. One lady said, "Land o' Goshen, it's perishin' hot here!" And the other said," 'Tis indeed, but after all, we're thutty-five hundred miles from the ocean." If you get the impression that Mike Dodge is a normal young fellow talking about nutty characters, forget it. He's a nutty character himself— he lives in New York and refuses to travel by taxi, bus, subway, or railroad. He rides a bicycle everywhere and brags that he gets around New York that way twice as fast as any one else. "It's just State of Maine hard-headedness," he said. "You know the story about the two old ladies in Meddybemps, where your mother came from?" 1 said no, not unless he could recall their names. , "Well, I can't," said Mike. "But anyway, they were attendin* the interment of old Earle Gillin'water at a burial ground which was quite a fur piece from town. And one old lady said to the other, 'How old be you now?' 'I'm nigh on to 87,' she says. And the first old lady says, 'I'm pushin' 86 myself.' 'Land o' Goshen, it hahdly pays us to walk'back to town!'" Q 10

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