Within the Council's Smoky Chambers

(This article marks the inauguration of a new Crimson editorial feature. It is intended, in the first place, to provide more complete coverage of various extra-curricular organizations and events than has been accomplished in the past. In the second place, the feature will attempt to present the sort of informal, personal view of the various activities that is impossible under the restrictions customary to unsigned news stories. Consequently, 'The Walrus Said' will express the views and impressions of the authors, and will not necessarily represent the opinion of the Crimson.)

I made a perfunctory beginning as a Council insideman last Wednesday and just got my sheen off without really getting a chance to hop in and wade around a bit. "Perfunctory" because I was outbralled by a "colorful" speaker (Merwin K. Hart) in the chamber above and didn't learn that the three-ring Student Council show was aprogress below until a shirtsleoved and weary messenger appeared and gave me the word. Upon finally arriving at the scene of the plotting, I got into the feel of the thing a bit but rather expect that future Council meetings will be more comprehensible and, hence, result in more informative reports.

Twelve men sit around a paper-strewn table. Council President Edric A. Weld, Jr. '46 speaks:

"And now, John, how about your parking report?"

Councilman John K. Lally '49 informs the other members re failure to obtain sufficient parkees to open the across river parking lot. An eager voice arises from a slouched figure that is all but hidden in a large leather upholstered chair; closer examinations discloses the voice as that of David C. Poskanzer '50: "I suggest we have the Cambridge police tow in about 200 cars some night and then we'll be able to fill up the parking lot the next day." He laughs wholeheartedly; other Council members laugh halfheartedly. Says Weld:

"That's one thing about Poskanzer--he enjoys his own jokes more than anyone I know."

Scene fades out as Council members chuckle softly.

And that's the way the ball bounces. Shortly after I had entered the smoke-filled nancium, some reference was made to the New Student, but I was engrossed in removing my rubbers and didn't learn anything enlightening on the hateful little subject.

Other minor matters were bandied about by the local politics: Why registration? They'll investigate. Why not improvements in the course catalogue? They'll probe. What to do about parking? They tabled the issue of parking until the fall unless sufficient undergraduate pressure stirs them to action before then. Alarm was expressed about Red Book financial conditions.

Secretary pro-tem Bingham made a little joke telling of his experience chairing the as-yet-unnamed intra-University (College, Law, Business, Engineering, Divinity, etc., Schools) organization. Everyone laughed. Not much was said about the new organization. Another matter came up about the X-raying of College students by the Cambridge TB Association which will begin on February 16th. though the service will be free, Weld made the astute observation that the Association's hope for 5200 victims was overly hopeful as he believed the average, normal Harvard undergrad wouldn't bother to walk past the X-ray machine if it were placed between him and the dining hall. A committee was appointed--or perhaps it was a chairman--to coordinate the activities of the X-rayers as they circulate about the Houses.

All the above is hasty, vague, and incomplete, but that's generally the way with first impressions. Perhaps future reports will be more profound and will emphasize the more important aspects of Council activity.