Don't Know Much About History

America, and South Florida in particular, doesn't care too much about preserving its history. I guess this can be a positive thing. Years ago, as we toured Italy and our wonderful guide Remo pointed out a thousand year old church, I marveled at its age, and told Remo that in Miami, "historical" means less than 100 years old. Remo looked wistful, and said "Ah, but David, that is wonderful. Europe is about the past --your country is about the future."

I guess. All I know is that I've lived here 32 years, and 2 iconic places for me have been torn down: my old dorm apartment building, and the Orange Bowl. Tonight I'm headed to a third, the UM Rathskellar, for its "Last Call."

Last night, I had time to kill before a meeting in the Gables. I headed, as usual, to UM, to walk around. Cops were everywhere, directing traffic for the Billboard Latin Music Awards being held at the campus arena. I drove to the parking lot next to my old Honors Dorm. It was knocked down a few months ago, but now has been thoroughly sodded. Literally, a big lawn is now where my building was, as well as the old Swimmers and Divers dorm.

I walked into the middle of the lawn, where I used to attend parties. A breeze blew in, and rain threatened. A UM cop called out to me "Hey --you can't leave your car there if you're going to the Latin show. I stood there looking very gringo. "Do I look like I'm going to a Latin awards show?" I asked. He laughed, and said "Guess not." Por favor!

The Rat is being torn down, and a new campus pub will supposedly be built as part of a new $40 million redo of the Student Union Building. Some wealthy hedge fund guy, Berkowitz, who has 3 kids at UM, gave an enormous gift to get 'er done.

So tonight there will be the final pitchers of beer. My friends Norman and Barry are going. Mike may tag along, too, even though he has to sell food at the baseball game to raise money for his boy Chris's high school team.

The Rat is (was) a cool place. When I ordered my first beer there in August, 1979, I truly felt like a college man. Back then, you could drink at 18, and even though I was in tropical Coral Gables, I held the mug firmly, and imagined myself at a Princeton mixer, waiting to make intelligent conversation with some of my fellow students...

My friends and I went to Happy Hour there, and saw a bunch of shows, including Papa John Creech, the ancient fiddler from Jefferson Airplane. I met him after the show, and couldn't understand a word he said.

After the Canes beat Penn State in a game most Canes historians feel signaled the beginning of their greatness, the following week they played at another powerhouse, Alabama. Eric and I met at the Rat, ordered lunch, and watched our boys get CREAMED by Bear Bryant's team. Greatness was a few more years away...

The burgers always tasted great, and they served them with those wonderful thick "steak fries." The beer was cold. Blow ups of the Sports Illustrated covers of the 5 football National Championships are proudly displayed.

The Rat has (had) a "Law Room," where we law students were allowed to privately drink and socialize.

One night, I was on the second floor, and went downstairs to the bathroom. I was with a few young ladies from the dorm. When I returned, they were giggling. I asked why. One pointed out that, from the second floor, you had a clear view of the urinals in the men's room, and they all enjoyed the show. Whatever. Women, I thought...

And so tonight will be last call. Who knows what they'll knock down next. As the great philosophers sing, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sea...