My mother, Ellen Gilliam, attended the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill between the years of 1969 and 1973. In December 1972, in the fall semester of her senior year, she wrote the following column for the Daily Tar Heel entitled, “Sneezes, wheezes and yawns.”
I stumbled upon this recently while looking through her old scrapbook. I was completely floored. The content and the tone are so right on with what my senior colleagues and I are going through. This piece stands the test of time. It is as relevant to those of us who are experiencing senioritis as it was in 1972 when she wrote it. I share this with you, hoping that you find it as entertaining as I do …
A semester starting off with a bang … has degenerated into a sneeze, a wheeze and a yawn. Nourished by fresh experience, an “adventure-filled” summer in New York behind me, I came back to Chapel Hill in September beaming with cosmopolitan inspiration and a conviction to read the books, write the papers and still make it a memorable senior year.
Jeeze, I was good at first. All that energy. I could ride my bike a mile and a half to campus each morning, sit through four hours of class every day, spend two or three hours at the Daily Tar Heel office, drink beer until midnight … and still read the books and write the papers.
Parties and concerts, trips to the beach and mountains, hikes in the woods, five-mile afternoon bike rides, daily consumption of a couple of magazines and newspapers. There was time for it all. Everything fit.
“Let’s get a beer.”
“Where’s the free flick?”
“Dick Gregory tonight.”
“Be sure and get the playmakers tickets.”
It all came, and I always went. So I couldn’t read every word of the history assignment. I’m a senior, an expert in selective reading. I mean, after four years you know what’s necessary and what’s a waste of time.
“Let’s get a couple of beers.”
“Jackson Browne? Sure, why not!”
“Ride to Raleigh to meet Arlis Pettijohn? Hot Damn. Ready in five minutes.”
“How about Dunkin Donuts? It’s still open.”
Vitamin C plus iron, just a little vitamin deficiency. Two classes out of three ain’t bad. This weekend I’ll start on my English incomplete for last fall. I’ve already read the novels, and I like my professor. Should enjoy writing that dreaded paper.
“Get some beer and bring it to my place.”
“Pass it this way. Who’s got a light?”
“Don’t forget King Nyle’s party.”
“Kuka Racha Koo. I missed the Boop-La-Boop. Why don’t they close Franklin Street off every weekend?”
Missed that English quiz, but I’ll make an A on the next one. One of these days I’ll make it to the 9:30 Tuesday/Thursday before 10:00. I’m a senior; I should be able to hear that goddamned alarm clock by now. The midterm. Hmmm … who took good notes in there? Just half a hit … Is that the sun already?
“Nixon at the Greensboro Airport? Jesse will be there too? Can’t miss the making of history.”
“Here’s to the opening of Town Hall.”
“How about Elton John in Charlotte?”
“Well, I’m supposed to have a paper due tomorrow, but O.K. You’re on.”
Should I finish the book that was due last week or start the one that was due yesterday? “I know I never come home Mom. It’s all the work I have to do. I’m a senior. Things are tough your last year.” Thanksgiving. I’ll make it all up over Thanksgiving. Four nice long days with just enough time out for turkey with the family.
“New Riders? What time do the tickets say?”
“No, I haven’t finished ‘Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas’ but I will over Thanksgiving.”
“Is there a late movie in town anywhere?”
“Miss Teenage America … Can’t miss the coronation.”
–Ellen Gilliam, December 5, 1972
This article has been reprinted with the permission from the UNC Chapel Hill Daily Tar Heel.
Frannie Carr is a Collegian columnist.
