The Netted Gem The student newspaper of the University of Prince Edward Island Volume 2 Issue 3 1““ Netted Gem . September 20, 1984 ' Students and faculty mill and munch at the picnic—beerfest thrown last week by the Student Union to celebrate UPEI’s fifteenth anniversary. (Photo: MacLeod) \ Anniversary Away By Carolyn Ryan “When the birthday cake was cut and we all started to sing “Happy Birthday to You”, that’s when I felt for the first time that it was something more than just a party. Something finally clickedl’ So speaks Michelle Dorsey, Student Union president, about the 15th birthday party picnic the SU threw for UPEI last Thursday. The festivities took place in a roped off area between Dalton Hall and the cafeteria on a rather cool but sunny afternoon. Bert Tersteeg’s jazz band played, 300 multi- colored ballons were pro~ duced, and students and faculty alike mingled to eat -hotdogs, hamburgers, water- melon, and birthday‘cake. and drink beer. The highlight of the party to many people was ‘ Kinsman dunking tank set up to punish deserving members of the university community. Such Celebrities as Resi— deuce Manager Mike Read. School of Business Director 1.]. Revell, Dean of Arts Verner Smitheram, Dorsey. SU VP External Les Smitl and CIMN personalities Kent Thompson and Bill Harwood surrendered their dignity for the afternoon and allowed partiers to take potshots at them. Dorsey wishes there had been more time to publicize Birthday” the event but was pleased 'he turnout. About 150 ticker were sold, with the proceeds of the day going to the Scholarship Fund. “What we wanted was a nice quiet get-together where students and profs could mingle, and that’s what happened,’_’ said Dorsey. (even the Pink Panther was there,. singing “Happy along with the rest of the guests.) At the time of printing, some remnants of birth- daydom remained on the nar'y site. Yes, boys and iris, those are helium-filled gallons in the trees outside Steele Building. ' -¥'——._.¥ By Jonathan Orlowski Have you been wondering why the overnight parking area closest to Blanchard Hall is closed? Do you get the feeling you’re being ‘fenced in’ in lotbsBand C? The answers to these questions can be found in a news release from Dennis Clough, the Director of Administration and Finance, which gives a schedule of events for the construction of the Atlantic Veterinary College. “We are going perience some disruptions," the reads. Another parking lot will become available on Sept— ember 21, an area in Parking Lot C designated on the attached map as Area VII. to ex- parking release Students may be com- forted to know that Lot A (near Blanchard) is only closed to install a sewer system and so that con- struction crews can construct and pave extra lots between the Library and Lots A and B; and between Lot A and Belvedere Avenue. The actual construction site-for the college is Lot C (see maps) and the present rugby field. - The press release also states that earth removed from the construction site will be dumped at the north side of campus past the Barn parking lots to form a new rugby field and softball diamonds. Problems with parking The new lots should be ready by October 15, 1984. More parking problems will be felt in the spring of 1986, when Parking Lot B is appropriated for the College. Clough’s statement gives 770 as the number of parking spaces after changes (aside from the north lots) but did not say if this “as more or less than exist now. (Diagram l shows the present UPEI campus: Diagram 2 is an aerial view of UPEI in two or three years time.) t See maps page 7. A “Fresh” Point of View By Kaberi Dasgupta My first week of univer- sity. I’m reminiscing already. What a week! Hands adapting to pens; other parts of the anatomy adapting to hard wooden chairs. Quite a week. An even more memorable first three days. All ready for my first day of university, dressed in a new outfit, I entered the institution known as the “Barn”. In such an area of higher study, my nerves were a little bothersome, but all in all, I was the picture of dignity. I entered and looked around. I soon spotted someone. “Are you a freshman?” he asked. “Yes,” I answered naively. Before I could react, a water pistol came out and a stream of water was shot into my face. Though I was slightly taken aback, it finally came to me —— FRESHMAN IN- ITIATION. Oh no! Suddenly a girl running down the stairs. “Is she a freshman? Is she a freshman?” she asked my came After escaping for lunch and recovery, I returned to find out how these allegedly upper class people proposed to enlieb'c" "r I soon found out. Ascending the stairs, I saw a row of squatting frosh making their way around the floor to a chorus of “Quack quack. Quack quack.” Happy to be inconspicuous amongs these t-shirts and . beanies, I settled myself into a corner. Then a fellow F-er dared to step onto the sidewalk. He had to tie the Shoelaces of an “upper” classman. With his mouth. We were led back into the Barn and made to sit in rows on the floor. (At least in high school they gave us chairs.) The contests started. They ranged from eating lemons to well, this is supposed '0 be a dignified newspaper Through the laughter and the whipped cream, we didn’t “... IwasanF—er... ” Did I cuous”" l was confronted by a large fellow with a rather nutty look in his eye and menacing water pistol in his hand. “Where’s your beanie?” he demanded, directing his pistol at me. “Right here,” I replied hastily, pulling it out from t T" ‘L "y arm. “‘Good. DON’T take it off.” _.. Line up in pairs,” I heard someone sav “inconspi- .. DON’Ttake itioff!” attacker. “Don’t let her walk .up the stairs. Make her crawll” And so I had to subject myself to the humiliation ‘of crawling up the stairs. Not to mention the damage done to my new pants. Led by encouraging spurts of water, I was urged to sign various papers. (I’m still wondering what I committed myself to.) I was then hustled into a freshman T-shirt, and a beanie was plopped onto my head. command. I was soon whisked into the line, and we were all herded outside. “Make a circle," was the next order. After playing some rather sophisticated games such as “Ring Aroung the Rosie”, we were separated into groups. I was cooly informed that I was an F—er; that is, that I was in Group F. Our illustrious leaders soon had us doing jumping jacks, jumping over each other, and making human pyramids. realize that we were captives. Unfortunately, three people discovered this a bit too late. These three girls had been found outside. They were led onto the stage at gunpoint by one of the captors. Then came the cream. Not just on the face. Everywhere. All over their hair, their necks, their hands, their clothes. And the finishing touch — a cherry on top. That wasn’t all. A cherry was stuck into each of their mouths and they were blind- folded. Then three guys, also blindfolded, had to remove the cherries from the girls’ mouths with their own mouths. Soon it was over —- or so we thought. We all had to leave through a particular exit. The whole process took a rather long time, but I didn’t get suspicious until I got to the door and was told to remove any jewellery that I had on my right hand and arm. My hand came out of the barrel a nice dark green, just like everyone else’s, and we were off to the President’s barbecue. And that was the first day.