Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Bustin' Loose

Must I forever be chained hand and foot by courtesy and politeness? Must I always fight bravely against those impulses to throw caution to the wind, and say what I think--do what I want to? Someday, perhaps, I will kick free from my detested bonds, and shout with the joy of complete freedom. I'll be doing what I'd do if I dared!

First I will go to the movies, and wait in grim anticipation for the inevitably ponderous matron, with a hat to match, to blunder down the aisle, explore my tight-lipped face thoroughly with a groping hand, and plunge into the seat directly in front of me. Then--if I have not already bitten that fragrantly plump hand--I will gently reach forward, grasp the monstrosity she calls a hat, and dash it into the aisle, where I will plant my foot firmly upon it, and raise my long-suppressed opinion of women who wear picture hats to the movie, and neglect to remove them.

My burning little heart eased by this good deed, I will stroll jauntily back to my dormitory room, whistling gaily. My roommate will undoubtedly meet me at the door. She always does.

"Oh, there you are!" she will trill sweetly. "Will you take this book over to the library like a good girl? I simply must roll my hair--and besides, I'm all ready for bed."

Smiling savagely, I will say as I've often wanted to--

"You may take your own book to the library, and as for being ready for bed--I'm sure I don't mind if you stroll across the campus in pajamas. Now don't bother me, or I"ll put glue in your shampoo."

And while my beloved but bothersome roommate stalks tearfully to the library, I will probably carry out my threat.

The next day, I will go to class, my mind clear of cluttered information and jumbled facts. From the day of my liberation forward, I will refuse to study. Never again will I force an interested expression upon my face, and discuss stale theories of psychology or unimaginative chemical formulas. When the math professor beams proudly at his class and says, "Do you not find the study of logarithms simply fascinating?"--I will rise to my full height of five feet, two inches, and tell the truth for once.

There are innumerable other things that I will also find time to do in the glory of my new-found liberty. I will saunter across the campus to English class as barefoot as any little boy ever seen by Whittier. I will not wash my ears, or keep a laundry list; I will not "tear on dotted line," or "rinse hair thoroughly before second application." I will never again "squeeze tooth paste from end of tube."

I will not tell my roommate she looks grand when I know very well that she has never looked worse. I will not say, "I'm so happy to have met you" when I'd rather say, "Just wait 'til I get my hands on the dope that introduced you to me!" I will never again say to Mother's guest, "That's a perfect dream of a hat you're wearing" when I'm thinking that if she doesn't soon take it off I'll be sea-sick from following the antics of little doo-dads on the ends of madly swaying wires.

I'll rebel! I'll do what ever one wants to do, and doesn't dare. I'll realize all my little suppressed desires and impulses. I'll be free from all fetters of custom and false courtesy. I'll--I'll--I'll bust loose!

This little piece appeared in the Spring 1949 issue of the Baylorian. This would have been Mother's second semester at Mary Hardin-Baylor College.


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