Life and Art MARCH 1988a 18 U_ THE NATIONAL COLLEGE NEWSPAPER 18 U. THE NATIONAL COLLEGE NEWSPAPER Life and Art 'MARCH 19881 Delivering is hi-jinks job By Nona Narvaez The Minnesota Daily U. of Minnesota, Twin Cities For the pizza delivery driver a night is never routine. Neither are the customers who order deliveries to phone booths, railroad cars, wild parties, hospital operating rooms and maternity wards. "It's never dull," said junior his- tory and education major Chris Pesklo, who just quit a job deliver- ing pizzas for Dinkytown's Rocky Rococo. Pesklo was the victim of a practicaljoke a few weeks ago when he delivered a pizza to the Chateau apartment building in Dinkytown. Upon opening the door, the resi- dents doused Pesklo with a pail of water. "I still gave them the pizza," Pesklo said. "I was in shock." The worst delivery for Dave Ben- ton ofPizza Man was when he drop- ped a pizza upside down in front of a customer. But that incident pales Upon opening the door, the residents doused Pesklo with a pail of water. "I still gave them the pizza," he said. in comparison to what some local drivers have been through. Pre- pharmacy sophomore Hasan Abu1 Hadid had two pizzas snatched from under his arms near the Chateau while delivering for Domi- no's Pizza. Hadid spotted the thieves eating the loot in a car. Police apprehended the culprits shortly afterward. On another occasion, drunken partiers tried to pull off Hadid's clothing. They succeeded in taking his car keys, which forced him to venture into the apartment to retrieve them. Sometimes it's the companies' cars, not the drivers, that get dam- aged. Pesklo said Rocky Rococo's company car has been attacked on numerous occasions. The car has been inscribed with graffiti, hit by beer cans and bullets, and walked on by an intoxicated pedestrian. Doris Hunter, another Domino's driver, made a delivery to a fraternity and found a large sapling with roots and soil on her car when she came outside. Several drivers said they have had patrons answer the door in various stages of un- dress or even in the buff. Many drivers call customers prior to delivering their pizzas and some will meet them only in build- ing lobbies as a precaution. One driver carries Mace for protection, and warns other drivers-even those from competing companies- of dangerous areas. Still, most drivers seem to enjoy their occupation. Many are invited into the parties they deliver to. It is a special treat to deliver to a maternity ward. One driver said, "Alotofwomen who havejusthad a I baby order pizza." Student trades in football for easel By David Elmore " The Shorthorn U. of Texas, Arlington He never took drawing seriously. Even when his classroom doodling evolved into caricatures of teachers and friends, sometimes amusing onlookers, sketching was just something to do. Art senior Willie A. Meredith was struck one day by the effect his pasttime could have on others. Sitting in church beside his family, 12-year-old Meredith created "an abstract" of the pastor on the back page of his Bible. But the inex- act depiction didn't strike his mother's funny bone. "I drew this wild picture of a guy with a beard and a microphone behind the podium," he said. "When my mother looked over there and saw it, she slap- ped me hard upside the head. That was the first time I realized that my artwork affected others." Like most adolescents, Meredith con- sidered art somewhat "sissified," taking a back seat to girls and football. Despite his macho concerns, though, his talent captured his teachers' attention. "Everybody would say, 'Look at this guy-girls, beautiful handwriting, an artist and football-just where is he going?' Then an eighth-grade teacher had me stand up and present my picture to the class and tell how I did it. But when I looked around the room and saw all those other distortions (drawings) I realized that I really was good." Many years passed before Meredith's heroes switched from Julius Irving and Roger Staubach to Rembrandt and Picasso. With his journey through high school still focused on sports, it was the competition and soul-searching of col- lege that spurred him to make a career Senior architecture student Willie A. Meredith poses with his latest creations. decision. "I knew I was art-inclined, so I chose architecture." It was not a practical decision for Meredith, but one that satisfied his creative energy. Artistic ideas constant- ly flow through his head, and he can remember them only by writing his thoughts on whatever material he can find at the moment, he said. "I have scribbled notes all over my apartment," he said. "I find them in some pretty odd places sometimes." Meredith, 23, has turned many of those scribbles into art. His fiery por- trayals of rock singers Tina Turner and Jimi Hendrix exude intensity, and his Greek statue paintings show a flair for shadows and tone. But his nudes have drawn most of the attention. "Mom looks at those things, and I tell her that I'm not sick," he said. "Nudity is an art form." Meredith credits his parents for his discipline and creativity. They allowed him to play basketball after school and goof off, as long as he completed his chores and homework on time. "My house was pretty tough," he said. "But when the work was done, we knew how to play." Didion's latest novel probes 'Little Havana' By D.C. LaWare The Daily Texan U. of Texas, Austin Despite her fictional ventures, Joan Didion remains firmlyattached to the school of New Journalism, which has always been more comfortable with de- scribing America than trying to imagine it. No one has ever accused Joan Didion of writing from behind rose-colored lenses. Like a distant observer, she seems to float somewhere above her subjects, penetrating them with the precision of a spy satellite at 20,000 feet. The images produced have been colored by a lurid vision of America cor- rupted-a distinctly apocalyptic tint. As in her earlier work, Didion's new book, Miami, uses the city as a starting point of a quest to understand the coun- try's direction. Part travel writing, part journalism, her narrative only begins in Miami. She focuses her lens on the Cas- tro-displaced Cuban community and its interminable dreams of redemptive overthrow and triumphant return-the struggle it calls la lucha. Like Salvador, Miami describes the workings of a distinctly foreign culture. This is a city where CIA connections are casually mentioned over sweet cups of coffee; where bombings and death threats are legitimate instruments for the advance of la lucha; where the wrong political statement, such as the United States should seek accommoda- tion with Castro, can be a death war- rant'. For Cubans as e well, going to Miami has al- ways meant a temporary separation from the routine w or ld . F r om Jose Marti to Fidel Castro, all Author Joan Didion the major actors in the ongoing political drama have used the city as their refuge while they hatch plots, collect funds and prepare for the next revolution. But since the arrival of Fulgencio Batista on New Year's Day, 1959, some- thing happened that transformed the nature of the city from a mere staging ground to a more permanent shelter. After the defeat of the 2506 Brigade in the aborted Bay of Pigs invasion, suc- cessive U.S. administrations alternate- ly fanned and cooled the exiles' desires to serve the policy of the moment. By 1962, Didion reports, the CIA's JM/WAVE station on the U. of Miami campus was the largest CIA install- ment outside of its headquarters in the world, and one of the largest employers in the state of Florida. Under its mas- sive cover hid CIA gun shops, CIA travel agencies and CIA real-estate brokers, not to mention the now famous South- ern Air Transport and the Pacific Cor- poration, CIA holding companies with $6.6 million in loans from reputable U.S. banks. It was once hoped that the U.S. gov- ernment could tame the exile commun- ity and manipulate it for its own ends, but instead of curbing the Cubans' natural political passions, Washington seems to have been infected. In Didion's opinion, the success of Cuban exiles relates directly to the Reagan Administration's support of the Contras. She finds the defeated mem- bers of the 2506 Brigade in the most compromising of places, providing be- hind-the-scenes support for Adminis- tration policy on Capitol Hill. In Washington, she discovers a White House motivated by the same militant passions, the same virulent hatred o communism, the same intolerance for dissent, that she found in Miami. The greatest problem with Miami is that Didion's prose seems so detached and airtight; even as she travels to the various locales, she gives the impress- ion of not being there, of viewing from the distance provided by newspapers and photographs. Whatever her fail- ings, Didion's vision resonates with an uncomfortable degree of truth. Both the9 Tower Commission and the stock mar- ket confirm her perception of American politics removed from rational control. In Salvador one could always get on the next plane and rest assured that, by the time it landed in North America, the chaos and confusion would be left be- hind. But now, by the time you arrive in Miami, things might be worse.