a special feature the Sunday daily by our staff Number 28 Night Editor: Jim Beattie September 6, 1970 Back in the U S. back in the Ky JONATHAN MILLER The first inkling that we had were approaching the United Ste when a stewardess walked up the the packed DC-8 with an aerosol of DDT. She was spraying us, she ed, because U.S. "health" regul quired that she do so. That trick may work with a load of middle class tourists buta college students, fresh from th movement's success in instilling onmental consciousness, were a Soon a man began to circulat tion, voices began to be raiseda >: ~ six and a half hours of trans-atl comfort, tempers began to fray. No one was in a very good m we landed in Detroit and the ai : >>>>announced that the temperatur degrees and the humidity 110 per As we drew up to the Internatio vals Terminal the doors of the p opened, and, incredibly, the air ca was turned off. The temperature in the plan rapidly while 260 of us remainedi ten minutes before it was annou: U.S. Customs and ImmigrationsN low us off the plane in batches o It was two hours after landin finally managed to get throughY tion and Customs, climb a cara back to Ann Arbor. U.S.S.A. R In that time I had been treated like an d that we unfeeling un-person by a humorless Am- ates came erican bureaucracy. I had been searched, e aisle of inspected, rubber-stamped and checked cannister against a list of prohibited immigrants, but e explain- my, anger was centered on the girl who ations re- stod behind me in the line in front of the Immigration counter. While waiting to be "processed" we had common been discussing the de-humanizing influ- x cargo of ence of arriving in the United States. We e ecology had discussed how, when we arrived at an envir- London Airport, we were greeted by the ngered. Immigration Officer with "good morning" t a peti- and asked, not told, to produce the correct and, after documentation. We discussed how, less antic dis- than ten years after John F. Kennedy had told the Canadian Parliament in Ottawa ood when that the two nations should be proud of rcraft PA the "border without guns" to tumultuous e was 97 applause, Nixon had issued an executive cent order arming Customs and Immigration onal Arri- personnel. lane were It was then, after 90 minutes of sheer )nditioner bloody murder, that girl behind us, dressed very properly and looking as immaculate as e climbed she had when she had been driven out to inside for the airport six weeks beforehand leaned nced that over and said to me, "If you don't like this would al- country, why don't you leave' it". f 50. The girl was my age. She was the age of ag that I Allison Krause, one of the girls killed at Immigra- Kent State, and she belonged, theoreti- and drive cally to my generation. I knew that we were back in the U.S.A. *1 Nature used to be easy to find . . Searching the South for peace and quitet" Some reflections on the world in which we all live EUROPE Nixon is crazy' By DAVE CHUDWIN "NIXON IS CRAZY," the elderly lady informed me in French, tapping her wizened finger against her fore- head. "It is foolish for America to keep fighting in Viet- nam." As our train speeded from Paris toward Switzerland the silver-haired French grandmother continued her monologue against U.S. foreign policy for over an hour, criticizing the President and 'les commandants ameri- cans." Proponents of the Johnson and Nixon war policies have always argued that if the United States pulls out of Asia, people all over the world will doubt America's word in future crises. But during a trip through five European countries this summer, I found many Europeans contemptuous of the Vietnam conflict and disillusioned because of our role there. Not all Europeans are against the war and some gov- ernments have even expressed lukewarm support for U.S. efforts in Southeast Asia. An American travelling abroad, however, cannot help but notice popular amaze- ment and disgust at U.S. actions in Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos. , IN ONE OF THE MAIN SQUARES of Bonn, Germ- any, university students set up information boards while I was there documenting alleged U.S. atrocities in South Vietnam and collected signatures on a petition to Chan- cellor Willy Brandt protesting the war. 'On a farm in the Austrian Alps the side of a barn was painted "U.S. raus (get out of) Vietnam." One of the most common graffiti scrawled on Italian walls is "U.S." and swastikas next to each other. Instead of increasing U.S. credibility anong our allies in Europe, U.S. perseverance in Vietnam for almost a decade has given Europeans doubts about our wisdom, goals and basic sense of morality. American withdrawal from Vietnam would not lower the prestige of the United States among Europeans. Ra- ther, they would be relieved that a great power had the wisdom and the strength to admit a mistake and- take appropriate action to correct the situation. The alternative is a continuing toll of blood, money and the loss of U.S. prestige in the eyes of the peoples of Europe and the rest of the world., GLITTER AND GIRLS Las Vegas, Nevada: Business is business By NADINE COHODAS GOING TO LAS VEGAS is a good eye opener for people huddled in the womb of Ann Ar- bor or any other university town where ideals are not so read- ily smashed. In these places, the populations are less hetero- geneous and people are inclin- ed to at least espouse the ideals most of us embrace. In Las Vegas, however, no such protection exists. Never- theless, four weeks ago two friends and I wending our way across the United States decid- ed to take on the city, turning right off Route 66 at Kingman, Arizona, and heading through the mountains for the desert haven. Las Vegas, of course, is known for its gambling casinos, open 24 hours a day, its ostensible cream of the crop entertain- ment and for its watts and watts of neon lights virtually destroying the belief that night- time brings darkness. But what struck me the most in the short time I was there was the abund- ance of attention heaped on the female body. We entered Las Vegas from Boulder City 13 miles away, driving in about 10 p.m. Aug. 6. Boulder City springs out of a mountain, Las Vegas is on flat- land below, and it is indeed an. amazing sight to encounter the galaxy of lit-up hotels that emerge as one descends from the hills. I think it is possible to de- scribe the "business district" of the city, Las Vegas Avenue, in one word-garish. One hotel is larger and flashier than t h e next, and each has it's own gim- mick like the gigantic fountains (big enough to hold a 12-foot motorboat), and the Roman artifacts dotting Caesar's Pal- ace; or the Big Top shows on the ceiling of the pink and whitestucco Circus Casino. MOST OF the people filling the casinos look equally opulent. One sees quite an assortment of what appear to be diamonds and other gems strewn around necks and placed on every conceiv- able finger. And most of the tourists, male and female, seem concerned to dress according to the Latest. In August that was bell bottoms for both sexes, and matching tops. At this point I would add ano- ther adjective to my Las Vegas description - depressing. I would think Women's Liberation would be set back a good many years if they could see what kind of atmosphere prevails t h e r e. Women are indeed an integral part of the set up - they help bring in the dollars and subse- quently reap the benefits but not in a manner Women's Lib would care for. Great emphasis is placed upon nothing but the female's sexual attributes. Waitresses, for ex- ample, are always attired in Bunny outfits meant to be a little too small to show how large the woman inside might be. Similarly clad females stalk the lobbies and bars in search of brief employment, and else- where in the hotels, endless burlesque and peep shows bring in the customers. ONE CANNOT castigate Las Vegas, alone, for these pheno- mena. Instead, the problem lies with all of us, with society at large who makes the exploita- tion of one's body so financially profitable compared to the less profitable jobs open to women like a secretary or teacher. The women in Las Vegas, and no doubt in any other entertain- ment mecca are strippers, cock- tail waitresses, peep show per- formers and prostitutes presum- ably because they want to be, and they want to be because it is well worth the effort. Pro- stitutes, for example, can make By RICK PERLOFF WHERE CAN YOU ROAM, if you choose, if you simply wish to wander, to look, to enjoy nature? Within the woods perhaps, hunting down the romantic remnants of. pristine simplicity in the thankfully non-human. The woods, perhaps, but where? Where, today, when everything is-infected with human ration- ality, when everything must have a meaning, including precisely that whose beauty lies in its defiance of such a concept. Here we were, Bob and I, stopping at a campsite in southern West Virginia, kind of hoping to do things on our own, to cook meals, explore the forests, the whole crack of dawn bit, after summers in our cities. The woods were there, all right, covered by trailers the size of a pot-bellied elephant, plus the modern cookery, easy chairs to evade the grass and all of middle-class luxury. The radios rattled out their monotonous staccato, boys whipped motorcycles up and down the hills, and the trailers, the cars were one next to each other, just like home. The woods to romanticize were sparse and there was the nagging fear of roaming too far, getting lost and bumping into a TV set. The young people-high school age-had come with their fami- lies, and hung about the campsite office, asking the phantom univer- sal: "Where's the action?" They stood there, several together, some lighting up cigarettes-the youth cult of the area. Two girls leaned against our car and we began a. conversation. "This place is dead," they confided. Bob mentioned he had a guitar, the two were interested and he returned with it. THEY WERE STILL THERE, this time slouched against another car and a guy had joined them. We moved opposite them, Bob brought out his guitar, and they looked up at him waiting for him to begin. Why don't you play for us, they asked. Bob replied softly that well, he preferred to sit around and let everyone sing, not wanting to be'"the sole entertainer or leader of the group. Such community they didn't understand. "Wha don't ya just stand there and purrform," the fellow drawled and Bob reluctantly agreed, but was stopped by a breakdown in his G-string. As Bob slipped his guitar into the case, a fellow asked to take a look at his "git box." HVnave it a cursory smile and began combing his hair. The lad was apparently making it with some babes near his tent, which won the immediate approval of some fellows nearby, reminding them too that, since after all there was no action around Nature, they best start looking for some women to pass the, time. Such were the woods we encountered. The solitude, the aesthetics, were remiss. The campsites had restrooms, vending machines and alas, running water. Perhaps it is possible to find sequestered spots, but the effort makes it seem futile to try. And yet, as we neared the middle of the trip, though we were scarcely alone with the trees, were hardly smelling the grass, I felt pangs of yearning. I wanted to jot down thoughts on paper, to revert to a Smith-Corona. IT WAS, IN FACT, quite pleasant as we entered Tuscaloosa, the home of the University of Alabama, for we found civilization to greet us and we wanted somehow to be entertained ourselves: we wanted to see a movie. It was nice to return to "solitude" as we stayed in our pup tents the next night, in the quasi-woods. And yet, I realized this was hardly reliving pioneer romance, nor was I so sure that I would be able to. It would be nice, but we may be condemned to modern living, and, alas, to viewing a rainbow from the car along the highway amid the comment that most of the spectrums you've seen before have, come to think of it, appeared from oil slicks. * STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND view of Israel's military society By STEVE KOPPMAN THE PLANE DESCENDS, and the traveller lands in a strange new world - of yellow stone and skies that never seem to rain - of milennia of history, and of guns. Always guns. El Al planes go down much sharper than other planes, and yourcan Searching for security. Dan- ger always, but little open fear. I had bought two paperback books, and when I went into a theater later in the day, the soldier at the gate looked in- side my little paper bag to check for bombs. Quite normal. At Kibbutz Shamir, next to the mountains from which Syrians fired down at their-valley. Now, guerrillas based in Lebanon kill 4 people in the nearby town in two weeks. CULTURES CLASH with less violence in tle old city of Jeru- salem. Stone houses that must monade, please. Fifty-five agor- ot. You look at him.' OK, he laughs, twenty-five. Just cause I'm an American doesn't mean I'm stupid. The Arab salesman laughs and asks why you wear blue jeans with holes in them. You are an American. Y o u have much money. He warns us about pacifism and the fall of the Roman Empire. He says the barbarians are at the gates - the Arabs, the Chin- ese, the Africans, the Russians. TO THE ISRAELI, who now must face Soviet advisers aid- inl'y 35 milliorn iFvvnAn OVsm :