Pope Six
THE MICHIGAN DAILY
Saturday, June 21, 1975
Page ix TH MICIGAN AILY aturay, Jne 21 197
By SUSAN ADES and ANN MARIE LIPINSKI
Mesha Walczek wondered what was in store for her
when she graduated from the University with a Phi
Beta Kappa honors degree last December. Now she
knows.
She's giving juggling lessons, blowing balloons, and
doing magic on the diag. It's all in a day's work for a
clown.
"I like it now and I don't see an end to it. I'd like
to join a circus," says the Ann Arbor resident who fo-
cused her studies on film and creative writing as a
University undergraduate.
Mesha is just one of a multitude of Michigan stu-
dents pursuing work with an unconventional flare. No
job is too bizarre for the money-pinched student in
pursuit of that high priced sheepskin.
"I started giving juggling lessons in April," said the
Mingling Brothers Clown School aspirant. "I had
Anything for
a buck: Odd jobs
crowds of 100 people sometimes, and I've taught a
lot of them how to juggle."
"I perform at any kind of gathering," says Mesha,
who- has appeared at everything from ice cream socials
to department store promotionals. "People are very
warm and loving. As a woman clown I've been receiv-
ed exceedingly well."
While Mesha sports leotards and a patchwork frock
on the job, Sam, a junior Engineering student, earns
his keep sans clothing. Commuting once a week to a
bar 25 miles north of here, Sam appears as a nude
dancer to the delight of patrons who are entertained
by nude women dancers the other six nights of the
week.
"I'm practicing singing now because what I really
want to do is combine voice and dancing as the lead
singer in a band," he said. "But right now I want ex-
posure and experience more than anything."
Although Sam wasn't specifically looking for the
type of 'exposure' he's been getting, he contends that
dancing nude doesn't bother him in the least, "because
that's the way I've always practiced."
"Besides that," he adds, "I make $30 in four hours,
tax free."
Sam's sabbatical from the rigors of engineering
studies to pursue his dancing interests Sam has
prompted him to question the worth of a formal edu-
cation.
"There's nothing wrong with school," declared Sam
who may have to abandon his profitable promenading
should Dad catch wind of his son's antics, "but with
dancing the kicks are better."
While Sam's raising eyebrows, other resourceful stu-
dents are raising dough working the line at the local
Bagel factory.
"It's pretty exotic," admits journalism concentrator
Doug McKee who has been slapping cream cheese on
one of this town's palatal favorites for two and a one
half years.
Bagel Factory assembly liner Ann Aobbins, a senior
psychology maior, prepares her charges for baking,
the step "where the real art is."
ing at the University and graduated Phi Beta
Kappa, but now she's redirected her talents toward
Although Doug isn't part of the establishment's in-
famous assembly line ("I just work counter, get high
and clean up"), he feels qualified to term his col-
leagues' work "mechanized."
500 pounds of dough are transferred from a mammoth
mixer over to a variety of machines which ultimately
churn out the perfectly molded forms. "Then these
poor suckers just stand there and pick up the raw
bagles," explained Doug.
Baking is the next step, "and that's where the real
art is," claims Doug's co-worker Ann Robbins, a senior
majoring in Psychology. She described the process as
a combination of "perfect timing and precise flip ac-
tion."
But if the Bagel Ractory braintrust wanted some
real artistry behind the countr, they might procure the
services of multi-talented Geri Rickmen, an art school
junior who juggles her creative wizardry of cartoon-
ing, waitin tables, and cat sitting to rake in some extra
cash.
crative, business of note-making. Equipped with a
knowledge of medeival and renaissance-style music
and an ability to decipher old notation, Chambers also
reproduces uncopyrighted sheet music on request.
"My father had worked his way through college by
making signs and doing lettering," the musician re-
counted, "so I sort of inherited his interest and I de-
cided to develop the skill into something more than
just a pasttime."
Chambers' interest in this obscure sideline has land-
ed him several unusual commissions. "I did some copy-
ing for a Music School professor who was compiling
a catalogue of renaissance music contained in a Span-
ish Cathedral Library."
On a more contemporary note, Chambers takes the
scrawled notation of local composers, and uses his
talent to produce a more professional-looking copy. In
addition, he copies music that is out of print.
Chambers regards his offering as a "kind of special
The
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Magazine
Geri and her five housemates have taken on the task
of caring for two cats at $25. per month plus expenses
which include an array of unexpendable accessories
belonging to the two new borders. Kim Clugston, one
of Geri's housemates, said, "The owner provided new
litter boxes, new dishes, eye drops and vitamins in a
tube plus laxatives in case they have stomach prob-
lems."
When a researcher for the Michigan Department of
Social Services needed illustrations for a special staff
training project, Geri did a series of five cartoons
for $80.
A full time job as student supervisor for banquets
at the University Club consumes the bulk of her time.
"I think the part that is most interesting is serving
the executive officers like the President of the Univer-
sity," she said.
With an inside glimpse of a detail of President Rob-
ben Fleming's life few persons come to know, Geri
disclosed, "he only eats certain kinds of foods . .
mostly things that aren't afttening."
However, the clandestine Regent luncheons held in
the 'U' Club's private dining room fail to provide the
waitress with any additional insight into covert Uni-
versity affairs. "They shut up when we open the door
and they start talking again the minute you close the
door," she said.
"The cats are paying our electric bills, the cartoon
job is paying my -rent and," she added, "the full time
job is paying for school next year."
Doctoral student in Musicology Bob Chambers mo-
bilizes his spare time away from note-taking in a lu-
thing." Reflecting upon the uniqueness of his profes-
sion he said, "It's not the type of thing that people
come and beat your door down for."
Operating on a sliding price-scale, the human xerox
machine charges. by the hour with the average rate
hovering at four dollars. "Copying a solo trumpet
part is much easier than copying a score for an orches-
tra," he remarked.
"Even during the recession, people only want to buy
the best although it costs mpre," said Paul of his regu-
lar clientel.
Hardly a big-time connection, Paul can boast of a
single sale involving 50 pounds.
Every town has their share of odd job professionals
and Ann Arbor is no exception. Tom, a literary school
student, who's been contracted for everything from
breaking concrete to garage cleaning has been paying
tuition as well as rental costs by taking on a potpouri
of positions.
"I usually work for $2.50 an hour," said Tom, "but
every once in a while I give myself a raise. I like
being my own boss."
He claims that his temporary employers are usually
prompt with their payments, but added that some have
attempted to negotiate his salary. "One guy wanted to
pay me off in dope," he recalls.
If business is slow, Tom peddles his trades door to
door: "That's usually how I get most of my jobs and
referrals," he said.
His skeletal plans for the future don't seem to worry
him. "At the end of the summer, I think I'll just sit
around and let people test me for allergies," he joked.
Doily Photos by STEVE KAGAN