So it's Homecoming Weekend at my alma mater, and for me that's as exciting as, well, watching soccer. I've never lived more than 10 miles from campus since graduating in '83 and '86, and often walk around there when I need to do some reflecting on, to borrow Joyce Carol Oates' title, where am I going, where have I been?
Eric, Norman, and Barry are all members of Iron Arrow, the highest honor at the U, and today they're supposed to wear their culturally appropriated Micosukkee Indian jackets and stand on the field at half time. Norman and Eric will -- Barry takes the Groucho approach of not wanting to be in any club that would have him as a member. And it's funny -- of the 3 of them, HE has been a loyal employee his entire academic medical career.
As for me, well, I fell in love with the place within a week of moving onto campus in August of '79. I had a great childhood on Long Island, but to me, Miami was EXOTIC -- not everyday, White Ethnic New York like I was used to, where everyone was Irish, Italian, or Jewish. Here people came from places I never even knew existed. Paraguay? That's real? Bulgaria? Isn't that where Boris and Natasha from the cartoons used to live?
I savored my 4 years of college. I fell in love and had my heartbroken by a girlfriend whose family made her leave me since they never thought I'd be rich enough to make her happy. Ha. How'd that work out -- 3 failed marriages later, she ain't so rich. Not that I hold grudges.
I was forced to become a man when THE MAN in my life, my Dad died the Summer before senior year. As Barry noted as we reminisced, as old men do, it was the singular event in my life -- the true inflection point that sent me on paths very different than if Hy had lived.
After college, there was law school, which I soon knew for me was just trade school -- get my ticket and move on -- I was firmly in the bottom half of my class. But while I was there, I got to teach 2 years of English Composition, which was great for my dreams of someday being a professor. The first time a wide eyed freshman raised her hand and started a question with "Professor David," and I was all of 24 -- well -- that was the cat's meow.
As a lawyer, I got to teach 2 more classes -- Religion and Law -- with former professor and mentor and still dear friend Steve. I brought in speakers to debate ethics issues -- lawyer and doctor friends, business friends, and even a high school principal I had met. And I learned that teaching is great but grading papers onerous -- and since I was teaching as an avocation, and not a real job -- well -- I never dove in any deeper.
I sat on committees for the College of Arts and Sciences, and learned a few key things. First, I HATE committees -- too many people love the sound of their own voices, and turn 10 minute issues to half hour ones. Second, "loyal" members of offices like "Development," which get you to give, are loyal to their own jobs -- and leave skid marks when they leave for a better job days after proclaiming "I bleed orange and green."
I learned that, as the great line from "The Grand Hotel" taught us, people come; people go -- nothing much really happens.
As some politician once said about D.C. -- if you want loyalty there -- get a dog. Same is true of most University administrators and higher ups -- they truly care only for themselves -- precious few have true love for the U as soon as something better comes along. Worse, as I've seen, administrators seeking to show their power do awful things to some who ARE truly loyal and invaluable to the U.
Still -- I love the place. Two dear friends faced scary cancer diagnoses, and the Sylvester Center cured them both, and with the service of a 5 Star hotel.
Both of my precious grandsons were born under the loving watch of our main UM Man -- Dr. Barry, and if D2 is so blessed, HER baby will be delivered there, too.
After Wifey's stroke, the UM faculty led by our neighbor and friend Dr. Jose got her all better with state of the art rehab.
And the Canes. As 18 year olds, we loved drinking in the parking lot before going to our seats and cheering on our team. As mid 60s grandparents, we love drinking in the parking lot before going to our seats to cheer on our team. And that's on the schedule today -- with an honorary alum.
Kenny went to Wash U, a great college but not one with sports teams to cheer, and he visited me through the years. In the year of the Canes Genesis, 1983, Kenny was finishing his first semester of med school in Philly, at what's now Drexel. He was here for Winter break, and I got him a ticket to see college football history -- the Orange Bowl where we vanquished mighty Nebraska, and started a true dynasty of 5 (really should be 6 but for a historically bad call against Ohio State) rings.
My friend John, a former CIA agent whose bestselling book about Saddam Hussein is now a series coming out soon, is also an honorary alum -- in the preface of his book, he says as much -- and gives us all a "Go Canes!"
So I'll fetch Kenny in the Grove, Ketel Oranj in the back, and we'll meet dear friends in the stadium formerly known as Joe Robbie, now Hard Rock, where the Canes are the po relations compared to F1, Dolphins, tennis, and World Cup they have there now. But Scott, Barry's boy, is flying in, and hopefully we spank the inferior Syracuse team -- our Green beats their Orange.
And we'll laugh, and bust balls as men do to show their love for each other, and NOT bust the balls of the long suffering wives who will be there.
And we'll think back, on now four and a half decades! Man -- I still see the 18 year old with the 30 inch waist walking around Lake Osceola, worried about Chemistry class (I ended up with a Chem minor after gentlmen's Cs in Organic).
Young man then -- young man's problems. Bigger old man now -- bigger problems. But manifold blessings -- many of which spring from the place in Coral Gables. Go Canes indeed!
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