Saturday, January 29, 2011

The Honors Dorm

We were like the cast of "Friends" in Building 22, except smarter, and no one looked like Jennifer Anniston.

U Miami had decided to shed its "Sun Tan U" image in the late 70s, and the Honors Program and Scholarships was the method they chose. The Program lured kids with the grades and SAT scores to get into 2nd tier colleges, like Duke or Vanderbilt or the better SUNY schools, with offers of half or whole tuition scholarships. It worked.

The Program attracted truly talented kids --some at genius level. One of those was Claire, who came to study Marine Chemistry from a small suburb of Minneapolis. She was Minnesota Nice, years before anyone knew that term, but would ace upper level science classes with seemingly no effort. I remember tales told by my friends Barry and Mark. Barry's now the Chief Medical Officer of Florida's top Peds hospital, and Mark is the Chair of Neurosurgery at the top hospital on Long Island.

The two of them would be tearing their hair out in Analytical Chemistry and upper level Calculus classes, and Claire would finish the tests in about 20 minutes, quietly stroll out, and be sunbathing in the outback by the time Barry and Mark dragged their sorry asses back to the dorm. I wonder what became of Claire...

Almost all of the Program's graduates went on to impressive careers. Most went to medical or law school, but a few became writers and scientists. One, Tom, a tall quiet guy from the Midwest, was just in the news for discovering some new early detection test for Alzheimer's Disease. He married a Cubana from the dorm, who got a medical degree from UCSF while Tom was getting a Stanford doctorate.

But back to the Fall of '80. Rudy kept to himself and his studies, emerging from the library only for the occasional beer at the Rathskellar when his Green Bay PAckers were on TV. Mike studied and smoked a goodly amount of weed, and romanced Tere, our red headed neighbor.

Barry and I became very close, along with Eric, who commuted but spend most of his free time in our apartment. Barry and Eric helped me with my science classes, I helped Eric with his Humanities papers, and the 3 of us analyzed and discussed all aspects of human nature. We followed Dr. Schultz's advice...

Meanwhile, one morning as I was waiting for Organic Chem to begin, I noticed a cute Latina sitting by the door. She was wearing a Magen David. I told her it was funny to see a Cuban girl like her wearing that. She told me in her Spanish accent that first, she was Colombian, not Cuban, and second, she was Jewish.

What???!!!! Jews in Colombia? No way. I knew there were Jews in the US, mostly in NY where I was from, and LA, and surely South Florida, with a few in places like Philly and Chicago. There were Jews in Israel, and some in the Soviet Union trying to get out. But South America?

My provincial Long Island upbringing was rearing its head. I really knew little about the world. Not so Silvia, my new friend. She spent much time in Paris, and knew French. She knew about classical music. She had culture, and class.

Over the rest of the school year, 1980 to 1981, I fell in love with her. My father grew concerned. He always feared I would fall in love, get married, and drop out of college. It didn't happen, but the Latina with the Magen David WOULD be the only woman to break my heart. I DO know what became of her --3 failed marriages, and the difficulty of single motherhood. Who could have foreseen?

At the Dorm, we threw theme parties. There was "Drinks Around the World" where we issued passports which were stamped as you sampled each "country." You would have beer from England, Scotch, of course, vodka from Russia, and wine from France. Africa held "Jungle Juice" made with grain alcohol. After the party, there was, of course, vomiting from around the world. I still feel queasy thinking about that party 30 years later.

As I returned inside from a vomiting episode, I saw my next door neighbor Edee crying. She had just been dumped by a boyfriend. I went to the apartment's bathroom and grabbed some toilet paper. I forgot to tear it off, so when I handed it to her, it was still attached to the roll, probably 20 feet away. Edee's tears turned to hysterical laughter. It was the beginning of a brother/sister relationship that has endured to this day.

Edee's now a nationally honored spinal cord injury scientist and researcher. She speaks all over the world and has written articles and books. She's transcended the most asshole of fathers to do this. In fact, trying to be exactly UNLIKE her father has defined me as the father I'd become 8 years later...

It was all such a heady time. As I read Joyce's Ulysses, the chapter about the windy mansion, the part based on the god Aeolus, I was reminded of Building 22. Doors would open and slam shut, and young men and women would enter, engage in witty talk, stay for a drink or a joint, and leave.

Mike, Barry, and I would order take out Chinese, and sit around the dining room table with 3 cardboard containers. We'd eat from one, and then one of us would call "Switch" and we'd pass the container. Such was our fine dining...

Spring, 1981 ended, and I headed back to Delray Beach. I landed a job as a Pharmacy tech at Boca Hospital. It paid amazingly well, as I recall. The minimum wage had just been raised to about $3 per hour, and the Boca job paid about $4.50. I was living in the Retirement Village (satirized years later by Seinfeld, with perfect pitch as Boca DelRey Del Mar) and thinking a lot about my future.

I was still pre med, and had a mentor --Bob Davidoff, the vice chair of Neurology at the med school. I met him though my freshman comp professor Judy Davidoff, and the couple took me in as a friend and protege --having me babysit for their kids, and house sit when they travelled for academic conferences. Bob let me help out as a research assistant in his lab, and even listed me as a co-author on some scholarly journals.

He was a frustrated History Professor, who yielded to family pressure and went to med school. He thought medicine needed more "humanities types" and truly helped and mentored me. I figured with his help, I could get into med school despite my Cs in Organich Chem...

But I was increasingly realizing I didn't WANT to. That would become clear the next semester --the Fall of 1981.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Hi Dave,

Stumbled across your blog today.

Laughed.

Cheers,
Joe Durnell