COLGATE
1969

Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band opens its home season with a trip down memory lane.

Seniors will remember from their first year the unstoppable single-wing, the unbelievable Anne Wallace, Holstrom's unpalatable Shephard's Pie, and the Brown Hall Riots. The class was introduced to intramural sports with the bare facts of Cannon's volleyball game.

As the class of '71 entered, automobile restrictions left campus and so did many Princeton Charlies. For those who remained on campus, entertainment was provided by Proctor Raids, Lester Lanin, and, of course, the Brown Hall Riots. Student unrest led to extended parietals...for obvious reasons.

The class of '72 will recall such oldies but goodies as

ROTC

"Anchors Aweigh"

The U.G.A.

"Mickey Mouse"

Remember Bicker?

"Put on a Happy Face"

and naturally, the Brown Hall Riots.

But perhaps most noteworthy were the risque Band shows, featuring long, hard looks at campus issues.

The class of '73 is truly well-rounded. The Band salutes freshman coed Sue Pyne, who, with her university supplied Kitchenette, is the first Princeton student who can eat her cake and make it, too.

(Having looked into the past, the Band is going to form the Peace sign on the field in respect to the Moratorium and we will play "Lift Every Voice and Sing" with the words being spoken over the loud-speaker.)

BROWN
1969?

Ladies and gentlemen: Now that the pre-show game is over, the Princeton Band presents an irreverent view of the contemporary scene.

The Band now brings you the 3rd installment in the continuing adventures of Susan Pyne. Picking her up where we last left off, we find that, although Sue is constantly having dates, over forty of her fellow coeds (according to the Prince) could not find dates for the Rutgers weekend. Unfortunately, not all coeds are Sue Pyne.

The Band now presents its 4th Annual "when are they going to finish campus construction? show." Directing you attention to

a)

The Math-Physics complex

b)

Firestone Library, or

c)

Jadwin Cage

we wonder when Princeton will resolve its edifice complex.

Speaking of backwards, we turn our attention to Capitol Hill and look in on our beloved Vice President. We note that the October 16 issue of the New York Times reported Spiro T. Agnew as saying, quote, "that the moratorium was run by an effete corps of impudent young snobs who characterize themselves as intellectuals." Forming either

a)

a feet in the mouth

b)

a slip of the lip

we pay tribute to our esteemed representative.

Finally, we note that while you students are enjoying this halftime show, ten of you are being robbed of all your possesions. We therefore urge you to go call a proctor...and gamble. Forming a welcome mat, we salute Princeton students' generosity.

COLUMBIA
1969

Ladies and gentlemen: Before you bite into that hotdog, the Princeton Universty Band would like to present a few frank words about the meatpacking industry.

The Band notes that meatpackers have been putting chicken in hot dogs to make them cheap, but that the government has cried foul and demanded that the industry find some other ways to make ends meet. Forming

a)

a hot dog

b)

another barnyard product

the Band urges you to ask yourself how long before sports fans across the nation are asking themselves:

Speaking of meatpacking, the Band notes that President Nixon has recently appointed a Burger to the Supreme Court, and we wonder if he will follow in the liberal tradition of Felix Frankfurter in preserving the individual's right to privacy. As one of the big issues now is wiretapping, the Band hopes that the Court will continue to squash bugs. Forming a hidden microphone, we overhear the possible complaint of the American citizens:

Speaking of meatpacking, the Band observes that Wall Street secretaries have been shaking the very foundations of the financial district by shunning the traditional brassiere. By provoking a rising interest rate, this practice has understandably contributed to a bear market. Noting that the businessman has always favored fewer restraints, we form a "laissez-faire" economy and salute him and his newly-liberated secretary:

Speaking of meatpacking, we turn our attention to the ever-popular Long Island Railroad, noting that Governor Rockefeller has promised that by October 7th it will be the best commuter line in the country. Forming

a)

a line of commuters waiting to board

b)

a line of bored commuters waiting

c)

a Long Island Line

the Band agrees that it will indeed be the best in the nation by October 7th:

PENN
1969

Ladies and gentlemen, in honor of Parents' weekend, this Princeton University Band show has been rated "M" for MOM.

The Band regrets that the Princeton parents have been seated on the other side of the field. Appropriately, we form MOM, noting that although others may see her differently, we feel that she has played a vital role in preparing the average Princetonian for college life.

To Mr. and Mrs. Charlie's chagrin, one of the first things their son, Princeton, learns when you arrives on campus is how to smoke a pipe. But the University, hoping to sniff out health hazards, has installed a sophisticated fire alarm system which reacts to everything but fires. Forming

a)

a heater meter

b)

a fire crier

c)

a dope scope

we hear the student reaction to the constant alarms.

The Band observes Mr. and Mrs. Charlie examining their son's room, his clothes and his langauge -- all clean for the one and only time this year. They may also note that, while the freshman in Brown and Dod now have Coke and candy machines, those in Pyne have even better conveniences. Forming

a)

a free New York Times

b)

draperies

c)

telephones

d)

colorful new furniture

e)

sewing machines

f)

kitchenettes

g)

convertible beds, or

h)

all of these,

we overhear Princeton Charlie complain

Although Mr. and Mrs. Charlie may now be distressed, Mr. and Mrs. Pyne can be well assured that their daughter, Sue, is safe at all times, thanks to such University additions as spectacular campus lighting, round-the-clock FBI security, and a complete lock, key, and buzzer system. Forming a breach of security, we note that Charlie has other ideas.

HAHVAHD
1969?

Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band probes the contemporary literary scene.

The Band first salutes Philip Roth and his best seller, Portnoy's Complaint. Noting that much of Portnoy's popularity may not be due to his literary merit, we celebrate this author's rise to the top of the literary world.

Speaking of Philip Roth, we note that in the motion picture, Goodbye Columbus, Ali Magraw plays a Radcliffe girl who, understandably, turns away from the Harvard social scene in order to date a librarian from the Bronx. Forming a library carrel on the field, we wonder what she could possibly get from a Bronx librarian that she could not get from a Harvard man?

Continuing on down the best seller list, we salute the recent novels of Jacqueline Susan and Penelope Ash, as the Band forms the literary rational behind their popularity. Special mention goes, of course, to Gore Vidal, for his recent work, Myra Breckenridge.

Finally, speaking of literary greats, the Band looks in on Capitol Hill and salutes our beloved vice-president. We note that the issue of the N.Y. Times quotes Spiro T. Agnew as saying "(to be determined by Mr. Agnew before game time)."

CORNELL
1969 ?

Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band takes a long, hard look at tradition breaking at Cornell University.

First, the Band salutes Cornell's new girl cheerleaders, noting that last spring, when asked by The Daily Sun if the girls would help the team, Coach Musick replied, "Only if they are 6'-12", 195 lbs., and can catch passes." But, as you know, Cornell girls can't catch passes.

Cleaning up its halftime show, the Band turns to the recent institution of women's Shower Hours in the men's dormitories of Cornell. Noting that they have shunned the traditional Saturday night shower for the 10 A.M. variety, we make time on the field as the Band suggests why.

In the past years, the Princeton Band has made Cornell's Ag School the butt of countless jokes; but in light of "Operation Intercept," we have finally turned on to what they're up to. Forming

a)

a potted plant

b)

a planted pot

we overhear one of the Aggies in the greenhouse inspecting the crops.

The Band now salutes the only male student in the school of Home Economics, realizing that he's the only guy on the campus who can eat his cake and make it, too. Observing

a)

a cooked goose, or

b)

vice versa,

we look into the kitchen to see how things are.

DARTMOUTH
1969

Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band cleans out it filing cabinet for the finale of the 1969 halftime season.

Throughout the season most Princeton Band fans have patiently awaited our world-famous risque jokes. Though none have appeared so far, we urge the great silent majority of halftime show fans not to despair, for these jokes will be forthcoming. As we form a clock without hands, we remind you that we operate on a secret timetable.

The Band now salutes the Secretary of the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare for his attack on the dangers of DDT. Fearing that this poisonous menace, if unstopped, would maim all our feathered friends, resulting in flocks of sterile cuckoos, wrinkled wrens, plucked ducks and wretched robins, Robert Finch has placed limits on the use of the pesky peticide. Finding a jaundiced pigeon on the field, the Band sympathizes with his plight.

The Princeton Band congratulates the American Broadcasting Company for its courage once again, televising our halftime show, and so we salute one of ABC's most talented and outstanding celebrities. Isn't it a strange coincidence that the Master of Ceremonies of the centennial football game, televised by ABC, was incidentally an ABC star? Forming a half-Nelson, we wonder how that ever happened?

Saluting Princetonian Pete Conrad '53, we note that the space people at Old NASA have so far avoided coed space flights due to lack of facilities. Looking into the future, we envision Princeton's Sue Pyne '73 hurtling toward her first moon landing in a cockpit fully equipped with a kitchenette, draperies, telephone, colorful new furniture, a free New York Times, a sewing machine, and a convertible bed. Forming an accelerated space program, we overhear our astronette proclaim: