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 Saturday 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