The Honors Dorm

Where was I? Oh yeah --Spring of 1982.

Looking back, the successes of those who lived in the Dorm is remarkable. One fellow, Tom, studied Marine Science, and fell in love with a local Cuban girl named Ofelia. They married and headed out to the Bay Area. Ofelia went to UCSF Med School, and Tom got a science doctorate at Stanford. I just read that Tom is now back in Florida, working for the Scripps people, and has discovered some new biochemical marker that seems destined to revolutionize the treatment of Alzheimer's Disease.

My roommate from Hong Kong, Colin, paid his way though UM working at a waiter at our local Chinese place, Canton. The owner became a cherished "Uncle," which is stronger than a mentor. The owner offered Colin a partnership, but Colin returned to Hong Kong to capitalize on the return of the place to China, from England. I understand that Colin became wildly wealthy in an import/export business. We last spoke in '04, when he was in Chicago, and coming to Miami. But the damn Hurricane Wilma dashed his travel plans.

We learned that we both lost our fathers young, and each have 2 kids. I'd love to see him.

Speaking of Colin...he used to cook, and thought the Dorm had maid service. He'd leave his dishes in the sink, and after a week or so, the cabbage and other Asian veggies started to smell a bit rank.

Barry and Mike deputized me to be the one to politely tell Colin that there was no maid service. I did, saying simply: "Colin, my friend, you have to do the dishes."

Well, he took this to mean that he must wash ALL dishes, and a few days later we realized that any breakfast or lunch ware we left in the sink was washed and put away.

Mike, the LI blonde Italian, saw this as a sign from above. "This is freakin' great! Don't even THINK about telling him!"

OUr next door neighbor Sandy guilted me into acting. (Sure enough, after her mother died and she returned to her native Philly, Sandy became the most religious of us all).

Colin seemed relieved.

We revelled in the cultural differences with our Asian friend. He had a Chinese language Playboy subscription, which cracked us up no end, for some reason.

One night, I was studying and heard Barry and our loudest friend Mark (now a Chair of Neurosurgery on Long Island) walking back to our apartment. I was seized with comic inspiration, of the Borscht Belt/Jerry Lewis variety.

I squeezed into Colin's red Canton waiter jacket, and when Barry and Mark opened the door, greeted them, in a bad Chinese accent "Welcome back, most honorable roomates."

Barry and Mark fell to the floor, literally, in convulsive laughter. Mark was asthmatic, and started getting a little blue.

We weren't politically correct, but we were mostly smart.