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Page 8-Sunday, February 5, 1978-The Michigan Daily

The Michigan Daily-Sundc

FILMI/christopher potter
CI kenwcuntet

I
V
C

PART II
December 27. Post-Christmas mid-
vacation depression. A bad time for
townies like me - friends, enemies
and neutrals scattered far from local
habitats, basking near warm home
fires or even warmer beaches,
leaving us staunchly provincial stick-
in-the-muds to figure out how best to
creatively weather this luxurious
agony of abundant frertime.
ABUNDANCE IN THE -dead of
winter? Alas, the current alter-
natives for solitary holiday mirth
seem limited in scope to movies
and/or booze. But I've seen all the
new flicks in the area (gorged myself
on six in the span of a week), and my
imbibing rituals have lately taken on
increasingly ugly traits affecting
endeavors both passive and active.
In any case, at least there's abso
lutely no one to get angry at tonight
(except probably myself), so I decide
to get moderately tanked up, then
wander over to give a previously
self-promised look at Close Encoun-
ters of the Third Kind.
The problem is, the film itself could

well prove enough to provoke a
reaction of something more than
silent rage on my part. What a
visually miraculous yet strangely
irritating, empty work this seemed
upon initial viewing a couple of
weeks ago. Do I really feel a sense of
personal betrayal over it? Good
grief, it's only a movie.
And yet, aren't movies as much as
anything a visualization of the secret
yearnings of its audience, an outlet to
one's fantasy wishes, be they ma-
cabre or straight-laced? Isn't there a
sort of unspoken pact involved
between creator and recipient? May-
be that's why I'm experiencing
something approaching outright bit-
terness toward Close Encounters.
It's not the only time that's
happened recently: for months last
year I was rooting unashamedly for
the upcoming hoped-for success of
Looking for Mr. Goodbar, a film I
fervently hoped would lift American
movies out of their embarrassing,
decades-long quagmire of sexual
infantilism. Instead, we got a distort-
ed, Hollywood soap opera sham. My
disappointment with Close Encoun-

ters seems equally acute, not be-
cause it distorts but essentially
' because it, doesn't do much of
anything.
O NE WOULD like to think direc-
tor-writer Steven Spielberg's
conception of the endlessly-craved
meeting between man and alien
would alone be cosmic enough to
enthrall the viewer, but it's not.
Maybe it's my personal manifesta-
tion of what William Golding called
"the darkness of man's heart." How
I longed, through all the benignity
and good cheer, to see a Ming the
Merciless display his evil counten-
ance, or at least find some scaly,
three-headed, four-eyed type to zap a
few folks somewhere along the line.
I suspect even Spielberg may have
sensed that there somehow just
wasn't enough there - thus his lame
subplot involving the government's
attempted and pointless cover-up of
the imminent extraterrestrial ar-
rival. It's a phony conflict employed
in the absence of real conflict,
See FILM, Page 12

IGHT YEARS AGO a 15-year-old Keith
Hefner gathered his left-wing thoughts,
burgeoning frustrations, budding schemes
and a Smith Co~rna, ihauled them under-
ground and put together his first radical newspaper,
mimeograph style. He was in good company in 1970:
young political protesters were a dime-a-dozen and
issues were stockpiled high and wide. But not so
today.
Keith Hefner still goes underground to publish his
gripes, to a basement office cluttered with relics of
better days and material for his in-the-works
magazines and . pamphlets. And though the
mimeograph has bowed to a miniscule press, the
people power has taken a step backward. Keith
looks beyond Ann Arbor for most of his support and
contributors.
High school students here just aren't interested
anymore.
To argue there's a paucity of sweeping issues that
concern the under-18 set today is to insult Hefner.
He. works almost full time amassing and
disseminating material for 8-18 year-olds on such
topics as "growing up gay," "high school women's
liberation," and young people's legal rights. These
are the issues, and he can reel off countless more on
demand. But who's asking?
Hefner's rugged schoolboy looks don't preclude
his serious demeanor nor his soft-spoken but
penetrating discourse. Fluid are his diatribes
against the passive student of the '70s, as if he's
repeated them to himself or to compatriots many
times: "It's not that students aren't interested in
politics right now, they aren't interested in
anything. Even regular school newspapers are shit
these days because you just can't find staff-a lot of
schools don't even publish nowadays because they
can't find an editor.

HIGH SCHOOL STRATEGY
The politics
of passivism
"This is a very selfish period in American
history."
And the die-hard's lamentations predictably drift
into nostalgia: "There were probably ten people six
years ago who I could name off if I thought about it,
who devoted as much time to political organizing as
football players do to football practice. I can only
think of two or three right now who do that ..."


By Susan Ades
The organizers in Ann Arbor's high schools today
are busily attending to the agenda set by a student
body intent on working hard in academic pursuits
and playing hard to offset the incurred stress. And
so, when the newly-resurrected Huron High Student
Council asked its 'constitutents recently to order
their priorities on a questionnaire, "Improved lunch
time, food and snack bar" stole the most votes with
"More concerts and dances" placing second, and
"Improve grading system" a close third.
F THE 10 FOCI listed by the Council,
none extended beyond the school walls
into the community, nation or world at
large. High-schoolers seemed to simply
maroon themselves with nary an SOS escaping
from their midst.
Outside the student activities office at Pioneer
High, the bulletin boards are smothered in social
notices-next week's dance, next month's senior
trip, next year's homecoming; is there life after
disco?

I

Inside the stude
Principal for suc
elaborates on the hi
are more interested
tly, just like most c
cerned with things
clean, getting the loi
vandalism and get
classrooms. They u
want to improve the
Appropriately,
smiles on Martha G
bers of -the swim
Student Union, Con
among others. Perha
not shown here? "No
Certain socio-poli
corprated into the P
definitively. "I thou
liberation organizat
history class, but i
self-consciously o
lesbianism and gays
tle open discussion
Our students repres
hush-hush question.
opened up on colleg
recently."
While the Anita B
lesbian and gay mo
cities like San Fra
have shown pioneer
tha Graham's foreca
is gloomy.
"You have to real
over her memo-pad
that brings in famil
the student communi
it will he accepted in

Mg ~ ~ ~ ~ __ ..4~ ~*,..' ~ ..-.._

JEFF AND .I were playing at the
club last week. Our opponents on
the third round were our good friends,
Alan and Beth. This made it
something of an occasion -- Alan and
Beth are married, and for that reason
alone, never play together. It was the
club championship, and Beth's assen-
ting murmurs had grown softer even
as Alan's eyes had rolled further and-
further heavenward.
It was not my bid, as I picked up the
following hand:
SQ, HQ, DA4, CAKQJ10 9876
Rather excited, I didn't notice that the
dealer sign was pointing West. So I bid
2 clubs, strong and forcing.
My partner tightly informed me
that I was a) a muttonhead and b)
bidding out of turn. I promptly turned
magenta, even as Alan (West) told me
that it was all right, never mind, no
one would call the director. Beth
smiled weakly.
This was the hand in full:
North (Jeff)
S A 2
H962
D K 9 7 5 2
C 543
West (Alan) East (Beth)
SKJ109 S876543
HKJ1087 H A 5 4
D Q S86 DJ103
C2Ca-
South (Ken)
SQ
HQ
DA4
C A K QJ 10 9 8 7 6
Alan decided that, knowing I had an
enormous hand, the best action would
be to push the auction to a high level
immediately. He opened the West
hand somewhat light, knowing that he
and Beth had little chance to buy the
hand. Using a convention known as
Flannery, he bid 2 diamonds, showing.
five hearts, four spades, and about 11
to 15 high-card points..
Knowing that the auction would

soon zoom out of sight, Jeff had to
figure a way to show me his points and
diamond suit. So he doubled, which
.means conventionally 'that he had
diamonds (since the Flannery bid
denies a real diamond suit).-
Beth, conservative by nature, bid
an immediate four spades. Undaun-
ted, when the bidding came my way, I
chose to ask partner how many aces
he held. That's where the fun began.
We were playing a form of the Black-
wood convention known as Key-card,
which counts five aces, the fifth being
the king in the agreed trump suit.
Jeff thought that diamonds had been
agreed, as he had (in a sense) bid

said, "You'd better have the tricks in
hand, partner." "
I kept a cheery countenance as I
looked over the heart suit. "Thank
you, partner," I said gaily. It is
crucial in these situations never to let
opponents know that you have bid like
a baboon.
I had to hope for some sort of
squeeze, though I was very close to
simply pitching the cards on the table
and claiming down one. Yet some
survival instinct told me to carry on.
Your opponents after all, I told
myself, might just pitch -the A-K of
hearts. Not too likely, perhaps, but
possible.

DRIP GE!
ken parsigianu

South
SQ
HQ
D A 4
C6
On the lead of the club 6, Alan would
be caught in the grip of a clash
squeeze, and would have to part with
the heart King. I would pitch dum-
my's little diamond, and Beth, too,
would be forced to discard a diamond.
Now a diamond to the king, and a
diamond back would squeeze Beth in
the majors. It was a marvelous play,
which I was all setto execute, when
Jeff, who had been munching on a
candy bar, offered a bite to Beth.
"Thanks," she said, as she bit off a
large hunk. She was nibbling away as
I cashed my club 8, and waited for her
to discard a diamond, when suddenly
a peanut caught in her throat, choking
her.
Jeff sprang to the rescue, and began
slapping her on the back. And though
his heroic efforts quelled Beth's
coughing, it also made her drop a card
on the table - the heart ace.
I BEGGED HER to pick it up, but
j she wouldn't hear of it.
"Rules are rules," she said, "and I
must play this card."
But now the hand was lost. For
without the heart ace, neither Beth
nor Alan could be squeezed. I was
totally demoralized. I had engineered
a once-in-a-lifetime end position, and
one 20 cent candy bar had dashed my
lofty dreams.
Suddenly, I was jolted from my
disillusioned stupor by the sharp
sound of Jeff's voice.
"Get on with it, will you?" he cried.
"We're two hands behind already. I'm
giving you just five seconds to play
this hand. Five, four, three . .
See BRIDGE, Page 12

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diamonds. So, counting the king, he
bid five hearts. But - he didn't know,
which suit was going to be trump -
how could he? So I naturally assumed
he had two aces, and promptly bid
seven clubs.
The bidding in full:
West North East South
2D Dbl. 4S 4NT
Pass 5 H Pass 7 C
Pass Pass Pass
A brief but exhilarating auction.
N OW IT CAME time for Alan to
lead, and everything looked
wrong. Playing against a grand slam,
it didn't look as though any leads
away from any honors could be
correct. So, glumly, he placed his
singleton club on the table.
I surveyed the situation as the
dummy was laid down. Jeff favored
me with his usual glare, the one that

So I began by running a few of my
clubs, watching the discards closely.
Nope - no heart honors. Then it came
to me. Since Alan hadn't led a heart, it
was safe to assume that he didn't hold
both the ace and king. In fact, he
probably didn't even hold the ace. But
if Beth held the heart ace, Alan would
need nearly all the outstanding points
to justify his bid. So, the grand slam
should be cold via an exotic double
clash squeeze. The end position would
be this:
North
5A2
H
D K 9 7
C

West
SK
HK
H K 8C&
C

East
S87
HA
D J 10
C


Keith Hefiner helps raise the roof from his ubderwound printahop. DW