A word from a "Yank"... I worked for a local TV crew in the mid-70s in Northeast Florida. We were once working a typically boring commencement for a small, private college, doing full-length coverage for the city's "public television" station. It was a beautiful spring day in Florida and the ceremony was being held outdoors. The commencement speaker was George Gallup, pre-eminant public opinion polster of the day. As the crowd -- and our TV crew -- were beginning to fall asleep during the longwinded speech, there was a sudden commotion at the side of the stage. A line of five naked young men from one of the school's athletic squads came trotting out and across the front of the stage. Half the crowd reacted with clear horror, the other half exploding with unexpected glee. The cameraman in the highest position rapidly tried to get a good shot of the runners but the director wouldn't take it (put it on the air) because -- holed up in the production truck as he was -- he couldn't see what was going on and didn't know why the cameraman had had a sudden attack of palsy. As the naked young men finally rounded the other side of the stage and turned, dashing off to a dorm across campus, I finally noticed the sign being carried by the last man in line. An apparent reference to the speachmaker's vocation, the sign read, "Hey Mr. Gallup, how about these poles?"