Dartmouth Traditions

"College" on the Hill

2011-12-09T20:51:00.000-05:00

Daniel Webster

Now here's a tradition worth fighting for and preserving (just like Daniel Webster did) -- the appellation, "Dartmouth College," and not "Dartmouth University." For a well documented statement of said reasons see: Dartblog

Pareto Principle

2011-01-05T09:13:00.003-05:00

80-20

The Pareto principle (or the 80-20 rule) states that often 80% of the results come from 20% of the participants (or words to that effect.) See HERE. The exact percentages can often vary but the upshot is often the same … disproportionality. Dartmouth seems to have fallen into this same paradigm insofar as class attendance is concerned. Joe Asch has pointed out this imbalance in the popular Dartblog to which he often contributes. See HERE. He has also frequently lamented in this same blog how Dartmouth students are experiencing increased difficulty getting into classes of their first preference.

Now if, according to Joe’s above blog entry, 33% of the student sign-ups are in 63% of the available classes, then 67% of the student sign-ups are in 37% of the available classes! No wonder that there is (to echo Joe’s complaint) so much denial of student-requested first-choice class sign-ups. This also suggests to me that there may be a large number of somewhat spurious classes at Dartmouth with just a sprinkling of students (Native-American Studies, Gender Studies, etc.?). But, it is also encouraging to me that the vast majority of Dartmouth students are apparently eager to attend those classes in which they might learn something useful in their coming careers (Economics, History, Physics, Government, Chemistry, etc.)

Perhaps we should also pay professors based upon the Pareto principle – 37% of the professors should get 67% of the available faculty salaries … dependent upon the number of students they attract to their courses. I'm just half kidding.

Congress Street

2010-11-06T19:37:00.003-04:00

This aptly named side street in Saratoga Springs, New York was once the traditional destination for a few randy Dartmouth men who had struck out with their dates at Skidmore (The Skids). To get a better idea of the true purpose of this diversion read this fictionalized account of one Halloween there: Trick or Treat.

Wales's Tails

2010-11-02T14:24:00.008-04:00

Recently on Dartblog, Isaiah Berg mentioned that Dartmouth fraternities/sororities were playing the drinking game, “Tails” (see here). That rocked me back on my heels … as over 50 years ago at Sigma Nu we played a drinking game “Wales Tails” (in order to speed up the inebriation process.) May I assume that the current game is one and the same? To test this theory of tradition persistence I thought I would describe the game we played and see if it is equivalent to what fraternities and sororities are playing today.

The premise of this game was that the Prince of Wales had lost his cut-away tuxedo (his tails) and was trying to find it by accusing others at the table (usually from 4 to 7 others) of taking it. There was a pitcher or two of beer at the table and everyone had a plastic cup that was to be constantly filled with same. One person would be chosen as Prince (usually a senior) and he would begin by saying, “The Prince and [the number of players at the table, not counting the Prince].”

Then, “The Prince of Wales has lost his tails … Wales … tails … [a number] sir!” The number given would be the person being accused and it was the seat number of a person at the table counting counterclockwise from the Prince. This person was to immediately respond, “Nay sir, [and then the number of another person at the table … or ‘Prince’] sir.” This person accused was to respond in kind and this new person would offer up another culprit’s number (or “Prince”), until someone screwed up in answering at which point the loser had to take a slug of beer.

Now this seems simple enough, but there were a number of nuances that went along with this game:

   1) The Prince could declare a “tightening round” whereby the loser would have to chug-a-lug his beer instead of just taking a gulp.

   2) The Prince could declare a “rotating Prince” whereby the person accused automatically became the Prince and all numbers changed in kind dynamically counterclockwise around the table. This could get quite complicated really fast and pity the poor player who did not have all his faculties due to over imbibing.

   3) The person accused could call his own number (or “Prince” if things were rotating) and then respond with a denial and an accusation of another player … or even himself again, etc.

   4) The person accused could call another number but simultaneously turn to stare at another player who was not that number. This was called an “elementary head fake.”

This game would often go on until the wee hours of the morning … or the keg tapped out.

Grabowsky's Musings

2010-06-28T18:25:00.005-04:00

The following is the Traditions section from “Then and Now” in the 50th Reunion publication of the Dartmouth Class of 1960, Musings Unlimited. The following compendium was put together by Axel Grabowsky '60 and we are all the better for it. Thank you Axel ...

"President Jim Kim tells a funny story about the circling of the bonfire on Homecoming Friday evening which captures the essence of “traditions.” After the speeches from the steps of Dartmouth Hall are all done and the bonfire is flaming away lustily, our new president decides to partake in that primeval Dartmouth tradition of running around the bonfire. He does half a dozen laps and figures that’s enough of one strenuous tradition for one night. He stops at a cluster of alumni, faculty and administrators who all applaud his run and says something to the effect that six laps is enough . . . no need to do the last two class numerals plus 100 laps. Everyone stares at him and then they proceed to tell him what the “real” tradition is. By the time he hears seven (or maybe a dozen) different versions I suspect he realizes that traditions are a very personal thing. Every class, every alumnus or alumna, every faculty and administration member has their own version. And particularly the alumni, the more so the older we get, have our own “real” real version.

With that in mind let me run down Dartmouth’s hallowed traditions, well-beloved, usually somewhat lost in the fog of history . . . but our traditions nonetheless. (Some of this comes from the Sept./Oct. 2008 Alumni Magazine with revisions as needed.)

Bonfire: Supposedly it started in 1888 to celebrate a baseball victory. “Then” and “now” it is one of the essentials of celebrating Homecoming. In the late 1950s we scoured the countryside for creosote-laden railroad ties, fallen-down barns and outhouses, crates, pallets and cartons from Thayer and local merchants and pretty much anything else combustible that we could get our hands on reasonably legally and for free. The College helped us move our material to the center of the Green, and then we built the pyre ourselves. The tradition lives on strongly with a few modernizing changes. The College buys the materials to be burned and brings it to the Green; the lumber and other stuff is lifted up the side of the pyre by fork-lifts, everyone working on the bonfire wears a hard hat and only a certain number of people can work on it at any one time. There are as many traditions as to the required height of the pyre as there are undergraduate classes or perhaps even alumni. (In October 1959, there were 28,530 living undergraduate alumni and a total of 29,658; on October 9, 2009 there were 56,697 living undergraduate alumni and a total of 71,087.)

I have divided our traditions into three groups: the grand old or essential ones, the “nice to have” ones and the minor ones . . . and I expect to be properly castigated for making these divisions.

The Homecoming Parade and the Circling the Bonfire: The returning classes parade through town and around the Green to the steps of Dartmouth Hall. The freshmen “then” and the first year students “now” equally enthusiastically circle the bonfire until it collapses. That’s the tradition . . . I think.
Ice Sculpture: “Then” as “now” the DOC designs and builds a usually monumental ice sculpture in the middle of the Green. “Then” just about every fraternity and dormitory also built smaller ice sculptures on their front lawns. “Now” only a very few fraternities still do.

Freshman/First Year Student Trip: An enduring tradition for new students before classes even begin, “then” and “now” expertly planned, arranged and managed by the DOC. There are some differences, though. About 100 ‘60s hiked into the woods and mountains of New Hampshire; more than 95% of the ‘10s made the trip, although in addition to hiking, they also mountain climbed, canoed, kayaked, rode horses . . . you name it. One of the best parts of the trip is the telling of ghost stories at the Ravine Lodge.

The Dartmouth Indian: He came a cropper in the 1960s. Suggested replacements such as an anthropomorphized beer keg named “Keggy” or a similarly anthropomorphized moose called “Dartmoose” haven’t quite caught on. Neither has been the attempt to “mascotize” the Lone Pine. The Big Green would seem to be a reasonable placeholder . . . although certainly not for everyone. Indian Head Senior canes, going back to 1898, hung on a little longer but were discontinued by 1972. Clay pipes ceased to be a tradition in 1992.

Pong: “Now” labeled the “quintessential Dartmouth drinking game.” It is a tradition less than 50 years old. The better your aim, the thirstier you get.

The following traditions are in turn nice to have, sometimes delightful, and sometimes hard to fathom why they lasted at all.

Sink Night initiates the new brothers and sisters into Greek-letter and similar houses. At Wetdown the newly elected student government members were originally pelted with food and water on the Green. When food and water was replaced by flogging with belts, the tradition died in the 1960s.

The a capella choral competition, aka "fraternity hums", going back to 1899, pitted the various fraternities against each other on the steps of Dartmouth Hall in the spring. Misogynistic lyrics in 1975 apparently ended this truly delightful tradition.

Freshman headgear was very much still in fashion “then.” It disappeared from the scene in the early 1970s.

Rubbing Bentley’s Nose in Hopkins Center has become a well-entrenched tradition “now.” Then” we used Dean Craven Laycock’s nose in Baker but not nearly as assiduously.

The Trip to the Sea is the Canoe Club’s annual 218-mile paddle (and sometimes race) from Hanover to Long Island Sound, re-staging John Ledyard’s escape from Dartmouth in 1773. Paddling through Hartford, CT in the buff is definitely a new “now” tradition.

Milk Punch, a combination of left-over liquor, milk, vanilla ice cream, and chopped ice, was served in a large galvanized wash tub in fraternities on Sunday morning to, as one of our classmates wrote, “purge the demons and ethers” of the weekend . . . usually to no avail. Not even the supposedly well-worn jock strap, usually floating in the punch, cleared anyone’s head.

Finally, road trips, mostly to women’s colleges, “then” were traditional, always much fun, always dangerous and a few times fatal. There is not much need for road trips “now.”

Here, in no particular order, are some minor traditions; some have held on over the last 50 years, some have died and some have started new:

Fraternity Play Contest, rushing the football field at halftime, Sanborn tea, Salty Dog Rag, 24 hours to Moosilauke, Baker Bells on Request, Keg Jump, Ledyard Challenge, old and new chariot races, polar bear swim, Senior Fence, tennis balls at Princeton hockey games, toga parties and the Tuck Bicycle Races."

I Remember …

2010-06-13T19:55:00.015-04:00

Ripples on the water are funny. Sometimes you throw a big stone in the pond … KERPLOP! … and there is very little ripple. (Competitive divers are judged on how little splash and ripple they make.) And sometimes a small pebble hits the water just right and it sends out a crescendo of wavelets. So it is with life.

In the book and movie Animal House, many of the brothers of the late 1950’s Alpha Delta Phi (AD) fraternity at Dartmouth were given nicknames: Bluto (after a character in Popeye), the Pinto (for the piebald coloring on his nether region), and Flounder (for his pale complexion and close-set eyes). The perpetual success of the Animal House movie has consequently engraved the representations of these characters on the American psyche.

This past weekend I attended my 50th reunion at Dartmouth and, among the many festivities designed by the college to encourage future generous donations was a moving Memorial Service for our 124 classmates who had “passed on” (out of a graduating class of around 650). This interdenominational service was very well attended and filled with prayers for the deceased and a few old Dartmouth songs. But one of the traditions that was herein continued was to read aloud the names of all our deceased class members and, as each name was recited, we who knew him would stand (or keep standing) and say “I remember [the deceased classmate’s name].”

Going through 124 names was a moving experience. Some got a plethora of responses … and a few got none save the minister's reading of their name. I stood and testified for Ned “Pat” Patrick (dorm-mate and our Freshman class President), Ned Nabers (a classics scholar in my freshman and sophomore dorm), Dick Reynolds (a fraternity brother and cool saxophone player in the Barbary Coast band), Mike Menaker (who snaked my date from Colby Junior College), Jim Sniderman (a fraternity brother), Robert Postel (a frequent seat-mate in class and aide in getting me married to my current wife), Jay Emery (a fraternity brother and all-around good guy), and Bruce Thorton (a fraternity brother). But it was the deceased (and unknown to me) Jessee "Nick" Fate who then made a indelible impression on me. After his name was read and his friends said in a cacophony, “I remember Nick Fate,” someone shouted from the back of the chapel, “FLOUNDER!"

Nick Fate has obviously left a very big ripple.

Walking Tall

2010-03-11T20:06:00.020-05:00

My mother used to chide me, "You don't make yourself any taller by claiming someone else is short." Apparently, many opponents of Joseph Asch, in the current election for Dartmouth College's Board of Trustees, don't believe this platitude. The have been circulating many half-truths, innuendos, and even slimes besmirching Joe. I won't name these opponents but I'm sure most of you have received e-mails, letters, and even whispers to these effects. What I would like to do here briefly is tell you why I voted for Joe ... and ask you to do the same. If you have been a reader of Dartblog, you know that when Joe cuts himself, he bleeds green. (If you haven't, please link to http://www.dartblog.com/.) He clearly loves our college and has offered many suggestions in the hope of helping President Kim solve Dartmouth's current financial crisis, re-enfranchising Dartmouth alums, bolstering the academic and social experiences of our students, and recapturing what was once the glory of our sports teams. All, in my humble opinion, noble endeavors.

It would seem that this is what trustees are supposed to do and this is why Joe would be a valuable addition to this august body. But one thing most clearly distinguish him from his opponent ... he has committed to trying to restore parity to Dartmouth's Board of Trustees. "Parity" means that we alums would have the potential once again of having equal say in who represents us on this group. I can't see why this is a bad thing (like some who have been disparaging Joe of late.) I have never been able to follow the logic of those who decry an equal voice for us alums ... like we so recently had. To me, a self-perpetuating Trustee Board almost guarantees that we will dig more fiscal, pedagogical, and public-image holes at our college for our children's children. We might avoid this bleak outlook by taking this small first step and voting for Joe Asch '79 for Dartmouth's Board of Trustees. I have. And, if you do, I sincerely thank you.

George W. Potts '60

A Dartmouth Trustee to Trust

2010-01-21T08:21:00.011-05:00

I know it's been a while since I have posted here ... and much has happened in Hanover in the interim ... some good, some bad. But now there are two openings for the college's Board of Trustees that need to be filled with thinking and probing champions of the institution we all love so much. My classmate, Mort Kondracke, is running and, although I sometimes find his cable-TV knee jerks a little too left-leaning, I do believe that he would be open-minded and a contributor to many of the tough decisions that will need to be made while Dartmouth digs itself out of its current fiscal hole.

There is another candidate for Dartmouth's Board of Trustees that I am more enthusiastic about -- Joseph Asch. Joe has been a major contributor to that very popular Dartmouth blog, Dartblog. There he has mainly posted important and quality analyses about many of Dartmouth's financial problems (warming to President Kim's serious treatment of same), championed Dartmouth's many sports teams, pointed out some irksome misallocation of our school's pedagogical assets, and shared his taste for quality food and drink. He has not yet addressed the degeneration of many Dartmouth traditions that have occurred over the last 20 or so years ... but I'm working on him for that. His background well demonstrates his financial analytic talents, his love for his Alma Mater, and his liberal (small "l") worldview. To verify that he is eminently qualified for this position, please visit Joe for Dartmouth where you might also reference, download, sign, and submit a Petition for his Trustee candidacy. I hope you'll find him as attractive a candidate as I do.

George W. Potts '60

Just Say No

2009-03-26T09:12:00.003-04:00

I just got my ballot from The Association of Alumni of Dartmouth College asking for me to vote for or against the new Association Constitutional Amendment and for a slate of candidates for this organization … all of whom strongly support this amendment … amazingly, not one single dissenter. From reading the enclosed promotional material, I get the eerie feeling that I am being asked to participate in a sham democratic process that will put another nail in the coffin of true alumni/ae participation in the future of Dartmouth. It’s kind of like when Saddam Hussein used to be “democratically” re-elected in Iraq with 99.9% of the vote.

Basically, this amendment appears to me to insure that this association can no longer be dominated by the types that initiated the lawsuit against the college last year that attempted to stop the college’s Trustee board-packing scheme. This is done by making the Association of the Alumni effectively self-perpetuating and for the nomination of dissenters so complex that few will have the stamina to complete it. Therefore, I will vote “no” for this amendment and not vote for any of the candidates proposed by the existing Association.

If you don’t see any more posting on this blog in the next twelve months, it would be rational for you to assume that the Wright-thinking PC police have hauled me off to the boarded-up Hovey Grill in the Dining Hall to be re-educated in the ways of a true Liberal education.

Winter Carnival

2009-02-13T15:25:00.001-05:00

Here follows a series of e-mails discussing Dartmouth Winter Carnival and its ice sculptures of olde:

Big D-ers,
This coming Friday starts Winter Carnival and this morning the “Boston Globe” published a photo of the 1935 center-campus ice sculpture “Odin”. This has inspired me to this request for your input for the blog site “Dartmouth Traditions”. What I am asking for is your memories of past ice sculptures … both center campus and in front of fraternities/dorms … or, better yet, included JPEG pictures of same. The one I remember most was the center-campus standing Indian with his drawn bow … how this was done in ice still baffles me.) I’ll assemble them into a blog entry that should highlight one of Dartmouth’s most enduring traditions. (I even helped design and build the Sigma Nu ice sculpture in 1959, yet I can’t recall what it was.)
George Potts ‘60

George,The Sigma Nu statue in 1958 was a rocket with features of Secretary of State John Foster Dulles titled "Dull Ice". A picture appeared in Time Magazine and we received letters from upset Republican ladies even though most of us approved of and liked Dulles at the time.John Bousum

George...I remember clearly the Sigma Nu ice sculpture you designed for our Senior year (you say 1959, but technically it was 1960, I believe). I believe the theme for that Winter Carnival was the Gay 90's or some such. We came up with an image of an old carriage with a couple of drivers and we called it "The Good Ol' Drays." Weren't we clever? You did most of the work, I recall, and worked well into the cold nighttime hours in an attempt to complete the statue for the 'judges' who were scheduled to come by fairly early the next morning.
It really was very well done, but I don't recall that we won any prizes.Bob Caulfield

George --
Thanks for including me in your mailing after all these years. I'm not much help. I think somewhere I have a picture of the Wheeler Hall statue we made for freshman year. Usual pun of a mouse on a wedge of holey cheese -- Swiss Skis -- if I recall it, but that's about it. I'm not good at JPEG, but I can send you the picture if that's something you want. Anyway, nice to hear from you.
Wah-hoo-wah --
Bob

Why the hell did somebody not take a picture of that? does the college have a archivist or some body like that who might have take one? I wimped out and stayed inside because it was too
cold. It was a good statue.
Mike

John: Ah, you have stirred the memory. Dimling and I were tasked with the project and, as you will recall this was the era of Sputnik and the beginning of the ICBM race with Russia. John Foster Dulles was the quintessential hawk and the project turned out pretty well----we got 2nd or 3rd place. I sent the picture and a letter of explanation and, as your correctly recall, we got some very interesting replies ranging from completely off the wall to coeds looking for an invite to Winter Carnival. I think it was the next year that a major TV network did a special on Winter Carnival. Hard to believe that we looking back at this from the perspective of half a century...!!Earle

Earle, et al --A great memory. But I think your recollection of the mail you received -- and it was you, and not "we" who received it, since it was you who sent the letter to Time -- has been a little dulled by the passage of time. I seem to recall that some of the letters from females were offering more than just to come to winter carnival. Of course I was young and impressionable then, so perhaps any suggestion from a young female had more impact than it deserved.John

I'm digging through boxes of old photos to find something for you. Your idea is great . . . my memory less so. Ergo, I'm searching. I'll let you know if and when I find something. Axel

All,
Thanks for all your e-mails. I am assembling them into the "Dartmouth Traditions" blog entry which I will publish shortly. Today starts the 100th anniversary of Winter Carnival and it has met with a minor catastrophe. See http://www.dartblog.com/data/2009/02/008551.php I guess this might be thought of as representative given the state of the college, our nation and the world. But all is not lost if I can interpret the spirit of tradition that seems to be exhibited by the response to this setback.

Studernts come to save the day -- http://thedartmouth.com/2009/02/13/mirror/collapse/

George Potts '60

References:
http://thedartmouth.com/2007/02/09/news/ninetyseven/
http://www.highbeam.com/doc/1P1-104671637.html
http://www.nationmaster.com/encyclopedia/Dartmouth-College-traditions#Winter_Carnival
http://www.bostonherald.com/entertainment/travel/view.bg?articleid=1148476
http://www.rare-posters.com/dartmouthski.html
http://www.dartmouthimages.com/catalog/product_info.php?cPath=28_257&products_id=323&ponv=7&matte=&metal=&wood=

Interfraternity Play Contest

2008-12-22T14:18:00.000-05:00

I am not sure when the Interfraternity Play Contest become a late winter ritual at Dartmouth, or, for that matter, when it ended. I do know that the IPC was going strong as least as early as the late ‘40’s right after WW II.

The Contest worked like this. Each year all fraternities were encouraged to put on a one act play. In the late ‘50’s when I was at Dartmouth, I would say about 10 or 12 fraternities, roughly half of all houses, participated in any given year. The plays presented ranged from original one acts written by one of the fraternity members, short plays written by well known playwrights, or excerpts of traditional length plays presented in abbreviated form. In all, each participating fraternity was allowed up to one half hour to present its production.

It was required that only members of the fraternity could participate in the production. No ringers! And that all the tasks necessary to put on the play had to be performed by those members. The only exception to this rule was that a fraternity could uses actresses as the casting needs of the play dictated. Since Dartmouth was not co-ed in the late ‘50’s, faculty wives, townies and nurses from Mary Hitchcock Hospital would often be involved. (Thank heavens we did not have to wear drag as is the custom at certain other Ivy institutions!) Fraternity members were the actors, directors, stage managers, lighting directors, and set designers for these productions, although in most cases whoever opted to be the play’s director usually wore several other hats. Each participating fraternity would be assigned a faculty advisor from the ‘theater’ department who would hold one or two preliminary rehearsals with the cast. Then we were given time for one ‘dress’ rehearsal, complete with lights, set and props, in the Little Theater, located on the second floor of Robinson Hall.

When I say ‘Little’ Theater, I mean just that; this space was tiny! It sat perhaps 150 people on the world’s most uncomfortable wooden chairs. Actually, there was no formal theater department at Dartmouth in the late ‘50’s even though there was a very active, and I like to think, successful theater program. Each year the Dartmouth Players mounted four or five major productions under the guidance of Warner Bentley, Henry Williams and George Schoenhut. We did some very challenging plays: “Waiting for Godot” was a particular success in Hanover and won huge praise at the annual Yale Drama Festival in 1958. Warner Bentley oversaw the construction of the Hopkins Center, opened in 1962 I believe. The Hop has had a most positive effect on all the arts at Dartmouth.

The IPC ran over the course of three or four nights depending on the number of entrants and we performed in front of an audience. Not many people came as I remember, but there was always an audience of some size. A panel of judges (usually Warner, Henry and George) would then select a ‘winner,’ as well as ‘best actor’ and each participating house got ‘points.’ I am not sure what these points counted towards, but I know we got points for doing lots of activities” such as ‘Hums,’ interfraternity sports, the house’s academic ranking, and so forth.

The Interfraternity Play Contest was great fun. It was always interesting for me to see how much creativity would come forth each year from fraternities where one least expected to find it.

Bob Caulfield
San Francisco
December 22, 2008

Paper-Bag-On-The-Head Time

2008-11-23T19:47:00.004-05:00

Dartmouth 2008:
No Rhodes scholars
#54 in U.S. News's list of best worldwide colleges and universities
Alums disenfranchised themselves
0-10 in football
Students going gaga over Obama's election
In growing financial difficulty

President Wright can't leave soon enough.

U.S. Snooze and World Report Rankings

2008-08-28T10:40:00.003-04:00

As I remember it, Dartmouth and Princeton were once peers. Well, at least we're better than Northwestern!! See -- U.S. Snooze

Dartmouth Dead

2008-06-11T02:11:00.002-04:00

Here are a few of the Class of 1960 who did the old girl in:

James Adler, Tom Andrews, Charlie Butler, Elliott Carr, Steve Carroll, Dick Chase, Jonathan Cohen, William A. Colton, Jr., Walter E. Daniels. Dick Davidson, Robert M. Derderian, Howard Frankel, Walter Freedman, William Gould, William E. Gundy, John T. Guy, Robert Hager, J. Roger Hanlon, John Hannon, Michael Heitner, Russ Ingersoll, Chuck Kaufman, Kenneth E. Johansen, Eugene Kohn, Phil Kron, Richard Levy, Marty Lower, Barry MacLean, Spencer Morgan, Richard Ossen, James M. Pollard, Rick Roesch, Tony Roisman, Dan Rosen, David Sammons, Peter Schwartz, Dudley Smith, I. Thomas Stone, Allen Stowe, Mickey Straus, Seth Strickland, David Vaules, Tom Wahman, and Roger L. Zissu

Please no flowers.

Our Next Prexy

2008-05-12T09:33:00.002-04:00

What qualities would I like to see in Dartmouth’s next President? (Not that anyone is holding their breath waiting for my input.) I would like our next Prexy to trim our obvious administrative bloat ... to reinstall a rigorous set of academic minimums to insure that undergraduates get a true liberal arts education ... to create diversity in a Dartmouth student's every-day social and political interactions rather than just in the student-body demographics ... to create well-rounded graduates with a solid physical, logical, spiritual and intellectual grounding ... to push undergraduates (and faculty) toward distinction with a stated goal of winning more national and international academic awards ... to move Dartmouth back into the forefront of a cyber-science (as well as in other meaningful academic areas) … and to pay more attention toward preserving Dartmouth traditions? Enough? I guess that this might be too much to expect from Dartmouth’s current power structure.

George Potts '60

DARTMOUTH DYING?

2008-03-24T10:07:00.012-04:00

One of the oldest traditions at Dartmouth is that the Alumni(ae), since 1891, have been able to elect half of the College’s Board of Trustees. This, to me, is an essential check and balance that has kept Dartmouth from charting its administrative and pedagogical course independent of the leavening element of the collective wisdom of its graduates. Now this prerogative is being threatened and it is time for those graduates who cherish this tradition to make a stand against this portent. The Dartmouth administration has attempted to pack the Board of Trustees with additional acolytes who believe that this and all future administrations are infallible and can perpetuate themselves without independent input and oversight.

This administration stratagem has been thwarted by a lawsuit by the Dartmouth Association of Alumni which has so far been successful in the New Hampshire courts. But unfortunately, authorization for this suit was voted for by a paper-thin margin -- six out of the eleven in the Executive Committee of our Association of Alumni. Now, the administration’s tact is to overturn this decision by changing this Association’s Executive Committee membership to a group that would likely rescind this lawsuit. Thus, there is an upcoming election (April 28th through June 5th) that pits a group of independent petition candidates to the Executive Committee of the Dartmouth Association of Alumni against the administration’s hand-picks. This therefore is a critical election that cannot be ignored by any alum who believes that Dartmouth will only remain strong with a modicum of independent oversight. To get more details about this kafuffle and find out what you can do to keep Dartmouth stalwart go to Association of Alumni ... and vote FOR the petition candidates to the Executive Committee of the Dartmouth Association of Alumni (see Dartmouth Parity).

If, on the other hand, you believe that a self-perpetuating group of elite alums should now and forever have a hammerlock on the future course of Dartmouth by disenfranchising their fellow classmates, go to Dartmouth Undying

Shucking and Jiving

2008-02-24T15:42:00.008-05:00

May I here list a set of Dartmouth traditions as candidates to be shucked by the growing list of those jive nihilists who are charter members of the Here and Now Society:

- Graduation ceremonies (with caps and gowns, proud parents, and boring speeches)
- Memorial Field and its football games … particularly the Homecoming Weekend one.
- And while we are at it … Homecoming Weekend itself (and the Dartmouth Night bonfire)
- The Hanover Inn (to be replaced by a fancy Hilton Hotel)
- Old dead white-man majors such as History, Philosophy, English Lit, Religion, etc. *
- Dartmouth Row and Baker Library (to be razed and replaced by high-rise dorms)
- “Dartmouth Undying”
- The Greek system of fraternities and sororities (this time for sure)
- Winter Carnival and Green Key weekends (including ice sculptures and golf course trysts)
- Chubbing and the Dartmouth Outing Club
- “The Dartmouth” and the “Jack-o-Lantern” (oops, already gone)
- The Hopkins Center and Hood Museum
- Membership in the Ivy League
- The Hovey “Indian Maiden” murals (another oops)
- The Dartmouth Skiway
- The freshman trip to Moosilauke lodge
- The Dartmouth Glee Club and the Aires choral group
- The graduate schools … Tuck, Thayer, and Dartmouth Medical School
- The Orozco murals
- Dick’s House (and while we’re at it, the Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center too)
- The Ledyard Canoe Club and its Spring canoe trip to Long Island Sound
- Hard science majors such as: Chemistry, Physics, Mathematics, Geology, etc. *
- Alumni(ae) reunions
- The school color, green … let’s make it fuchsia
- The Rollins chapel (“Gothic dropped from a great height”)
- Senior secret societies (C&G, Sphinx, F&S, Dragon, Phrygian, etc.)
- Any reference to Samson Occom, Daniel Webster or Eleazer Wheelock
- Vox Clamantis in Deserto

* From a recent Dartblog "[Trustees] indicated that Dartmouth is hesitent to hire new professors in departments that were not popular five or ten years ago because in six years, professors are eligible to become tenured faculty. Dartmouth could then have too many professors for an unpopular department." QED

Are you pissed off yet?

MORE ON TRADITIONS

2008-01-29T13:46:00.000-05:00

A Dartmouth classmate (and fraternity brother) of mine recently sent me the following observation about traditions and their fleeting permanence:

The "old traditions" move with the times. If you go back and read either The Dartmouth or other written sources about D you'll find that every generation of alumni bewailed the passing of the "old traditions," totally forgetting in the process that they themselves ended a few "old traditions" while they were students. The passing of "old traditions" is the way of human progress. It doesn't mean, of course, that we shouldn't bewail their passing . . . wailing feels good. But let's keep in mind that traditions must change if we want to progress. And when you look at and talk to today's undergraduates, there is no question that Dartmouth has progressed.

Although, emotionally, I agree with these thoughts, I cannot bring my intellect into full concordance. Clearly traditions add color and texture to our life’s experiences and there is surely some value to their persistence. Witness that British jurists still wear their powdered wigs to court. Bavarians still sport lederhosen and slap each other around in their touristy dance. The Japanese spend enormous emotional energy with their tea ceremonies. The examples go on and on. Even at Dartmouth a few traditions still survive – Winter Carnival, the Homecoming bonfire, and the Greek system (despite numerous efforts to kill it). The question then becomes – which traditions deserve to persist? I offer that, if the rationales for a tradition have not been maintained (such as why Dartmouth seniors smoked and then broke their clay pipes at the Bema), then this tradition deserves to die. However, I also conclude that the maintenance of the reasons for such traditions is not the responsibility of the students but of the overseers of these institutions. And, if these powers have not continued to educate and explain the backing for any tradition, then they are culpable of lassitude or PC thinking aimed at killing such traditions. And as a consequence they are also guilty of devaluing the transcendental worth of said institutions.

If, as my classmate opines, traditions are will o’ the wisp and come and go with the passing of generations of students, then I suggest that they are not traditions but merely fads. Traditions have been tested with time and deserve to have some lasting power. They need not die to achieve progress. Yes, they may be replaced by traditions of greater worth or meaning, but they should not be sacrificed in an orgy of nihilism. Many traditions will in fact compliment institutional progress such as those that promote social benefits … group cohesion or critical thought or the dispelling of prejudice. They should be encouraged and cherished like an elegant antique.

One last thought about people holding onto the past. It seems strange to me that those who are so ready to throw over old traditions (generally, liberals) are most often the ones who wring their hands when one obscure species of plant or animal may go extinct. Many of these lefties would move heaven and Earth to preserve the snail darter but not lift a finger to hold onto our National Anthem.

ROLLIN’ ON THE RIVER

2007-10-13T16:54:00.000-04:00

The Ledyard Canoe Club has an annual tradition of sponsoring a four day, 218 mile canoe trip from Hanover down the Connecticut River to Long Island Sound (even unto this day). In the spring of my junior year at Dartmouth (1959), I had just taken my midterm exams and was feeling pretty feisty. Propitiously, Axel Grabowsky, the next-president of my fraternity, Sigma Nu, (and president of the canoe club) announced in the fraternity bar that very night (after I had downed a few too many frosties), “A bunch of us a going on a canoe trip down the Connecticut river. Who wants to go along?” I said, “Sure, why not.” Another brother, sophomore Bill Figilis, also rashly stepped forward. We were both quite foolish as we were canoeing tyros.

But there is no stopping callowed youth. So the next morning Bill and I packed a few changes of clothes, grabbed our sleeping bags (I also wore a straw boater hat and Bill brought a bottle of Beefeaters Gin) and took our place at the end of a queue of eight canoes pushing off from the Ledyard Canoe Club dock. After floundering around for the first few miles, Bill and I began to get the hang of the “J” stroke and how to steer this accursed Indian craft. That first evening in the canoe, as it started to get dark, a stiff headwind came up while we were in the middle of the river. This produced quite a bit of chop in the river and I knew, if we were dumped in the water, hypothermia would set in after only a few minutes and we would be goners. So, with a few bladder crises and even fewer paddling skills, we did manage to manhandle the canoe over to the river bank without mishap.

We slept under our canoe that night and most others … although Axel, our trip organizer, did arrange for us to sleep one night in a jail in Windsor, Connecticut (fortunately, for it rained like for Noah that night). The rest of the four day trip was a blur of portages (Wilder Dam, Turners Falls, and Windsor Locks among many others), bridges (Bill would always call out, “Bridges mean progress”), blisters, sore knees, and swigs of Beefeater Gin. We ate what we could scavenge at rest stops along the way and, I think, some stale cheese sandwiches at that jail. We were shadowed through the whole trip by a photographer from Life Magazine (see the May 18, 1959 issue) who wrote a small feature on this sojourn. (Neither Axel nor Bill made it into the article/pictures but I did appear as a boater-hatted background speck.)

This odyssey all ended a little ignominiously … a few canoes (including Bill’s and mine) had to be towed the last few miles because the tide had changed and we were going backwards whilst paddling a full speed. But this was quickly forgotten at a very lush barbeque thrown by an alumnus at his beautiful seaside house in Old Saybrook, Connecticut. Then the boats were loaded onto a truck and all involved piled into cars to sleep their way back to Hanover … all, that is, except myself. Instead, I opted (much to Axel’s chagrin) to hitchhike over to Connecticut College for Women (then-so-named) to visit a coed that I had been seeing. I did stumble back the next day to resume my studies and the brew swilling that I had interrupted only six days prior.

Thank you Axel for these fond memories and have a very happy 70th birthday.

George and Bill

Wright’s Replacement

2007-10-10T18:18:00.000-04:00

To see my surprising recommendation for (my ever-so hopeful) replacement for Prexy Wright’s see: Fletcher's Castoria

SHAKESPEARE

2007-09-12T14:53:00.000-04:00

From Joe Malchow’s Dartblog: “Does anyone happen to have an update on the continuing search of the Dartmouth English Faculty for a Shakespeare professor?”

My Answer (tongue firmly in cheek): I understand that Dartmouth has had multiple candidates for this Professor of English position specializing in Shakespeare. However, all of these candidates have a very limited repertoire of Shakespeare’s plays on which they can pedagogically pontificate. These include Othello’s Moorish instincts in “Othello” and Kate’s internal gender conflicts in “The Taming of the Shrew”. These wantings in turn stem from the (unfortunate) limited range of literature classes that all these candidates took in college and graduate school. They were all constrained by their specialization in African-American and Feminine & Gender Studies programs.

(Talk about looking through the wrong end of the telescope.)

Billet Doux

2007-09-10T09:06:00.000-04:00

Dartmouth administration to Dartmouth alums, "F**k you!"

Logical Course

2007-09-04T14:02:00.000-04:00

I recently wrote a blog that discussed the dearth of critical thinking in our society. See: logical thinking This continues a blogging trend of mine – questioning the modern U.S. ethos -- our children are encouraged these days to decide things based only upon feelings and not on logical thought. TV shows like “The Daily Show” seem to make their stripes based upon making illogic thought popular (and sometimes even funny). I even wonder whether the audience laughs because they agree with these political barbs (usually against the right) or because they somehow sense that these barbs are inherently illogical.

As a consequence I went to the Dartmouth college website to see what kind of emphasis Dartmouth currently places on the study of Logic (remember Logic used to be a major course of study among our not-too-distant ancestors). See: Dartmouth course list What I discovered there was somewhat disturbing. Dartmouth, a supposed premier liberal arts college, offers only seven undergraduate courses in logic – three in the Mathematics department and four in the Philosophy department. (The three courses in the Mathematics department are only offered on alternate years!) To contrast with this, there are 46 courses offered in the African Studies department, 25 courses offered in the Native American Studies department, and 32 courses offered in the Women’s and Gender Studies. I guess I now understand why Jon Stewart is greeted with a chorus of “whoop, whoop”s when he makes an inane and illogical comment about our current governance.

Not that feelings have absolutely no place in our decision making process. Onetime, I got a fortune cookie at a Chinese restaurant that read: “When your head and your heart agree, you are seldom wrong.” If we could only hope to achieve this paltry norm?

Bounce

2007-07-17T15:27:00.000-04:00

A good friend/fraternity brother of mine, Judge Haley Fromholtz, Dartmouth '60, recently presided over the Catholic Church’s $660 million settlement from the Los Angeles Archdiocese to its victims of priestly sexual abuse. Read more of the detail and my thoughts on this development in another of my blogs, Fletcher’s Castoria -- see this

“The Chair Recognizes …”

2007-06-11T08:30:00.000-04:00

Dartmouth has deep-sixed another tradition. Instead of a homo sapiens, it has elected a piece of furniture to head its Board of Trustees.

From 6/8/07 “Speaking of Dartmouth”: “THE DARTMOUTH COLLEGE BOARD OF TRUSTEES ELECTS CHARLES "ED" HALDEMAN '70 AS ITS NEW CHAIR. HALDEMAN SENDS HIS BEST WISHES TO SPEAKING OF DARTMOUTH READERS AND TO THE ENTIRE CAMPUS COMMUNITY. Haldeman is CEO of Putnam Investments. He replaces William H. Neukom '64, who completed his term on the Board after 11 years of service.”

Is it a Morris chair, an armchair, a Hitchcock chair, a beach chair, a swivel chair, an Eames chair, a Chippendale side chair, a recliner, a barrel chair, a Windsor chair, a throne, a rocking chair, a wheelchair, a bean bag chair, or what?

My money is on a high chair.

GREEN WITH ENVY

2007-05-02T11:41:00.001-04:00

I know that I may be veering off message here but excellence has been a tradition at Dartmouth and certainly should be in our newly-published mission statement. (It unfortunately isn’t … the recent Wright-written mission statement is the sickly pabulum “Dartmouth educates the most promising students of this generation to be leaders of the next generation with a faculty of scholars dedicated to teaching and the creation of new knowledge.”) I have published before (see “Booby Prize” at Fletchers Castoria) how poorly Dartmouth seems to perform when it comes to national scholarship awards. (For the sake of full disclosure, I too did not win any national scholarship award when I was in Hanover … not even close.)

Now, there is another award announcement wherein Dartmouth is sucking wind – the 2007 Goldwater scholarship awards for excellence in science. Yes, we did have one winner Laura Myers '08 (and my congratulations to her!) and two honorable mentions (Meghan Feely '08 and Kristen Lurie '08), but Harvard had four top winners (maximum number allowed), Cornell, four winners, MIT, three winners, and Yale, three winners. Even Mass Bay Community College had two winners for heaven’s sake. Next class reunion, I think I’ll wear a paper bag over my head.

DARTMOUTH’S LEGACY

2007-04-10T13:42:00.000-04:00

President Wright recently solicited input on Dartmouth’s mission and its legacy. The following are the words he chose to describe Dartmouth’s legacy:

“Since its founding in 1769, Dartmouth has provided an intimate and inspirational setting for distinguished faculty and talented students to come together in one of the finest academic communities in the world. Dartmouth faculty contribute [sic] substantially to the expansion of human understanding around critical issues. Dartmouth is committed to providing the best undergraduate liberal arts experience in the world and is enriched by excellent, historic professional programs in the Dartmouth Medical School (founded 1797), the Thayer School of Engineering (1867), the Tuck School of Business (1900) and the graduate programs in the Arts and Sciences. Together they sustain an exceptional learning environment that emphasizes independent thought, academic excellence, and the lifelong pursuit of learning.
Pioneering programs and continuing leadership in computation and international education are hallmarks of Dartmouth. The College provides a comprehensive out of classroom experience, including service opportunities, engagement in the arts, and strong athletic, recreational, and outdoor programs. Dartmouth graduates are marked by an understanding of the importance of teamwork, a capacity for leadership, and their keen enjoyment of a vibrant community. Alumni/ae loyalty to Dartmouth is legendary and their engagement is a defining and sustaining quality of the College.”

I have a few comments on President Wright’s notion of Dartmouth’s heritage (other than noticing the pedestrian prose that this statement exhibits):

!) How can Dartmouth’s traditions be enumerated with nary a mention of the primary purpose for which it was created (and to which it still somewhat aspires), that is, to educate Indians?

2) Dartmouth was an all-male institution until 1973. To me it is very strange, and perhaps telling, that President Wright seems to sweep this obvious legacy under the rug. Even though Dartmouth is now fully co-educational, clearly its roots and much of its alumni/ae body are males.

3) Dartmouth is therein boasted as having “continuing leadership in computation and international education” This may once have been the case, but I seriously question whether it still is. My profession has been in computers and I have not noticed much that Dartmouth has contributed to this field in the last twenty years. Also to my continued disappointment, Dartmouth is becoming famous for its dearth of students that are selected for international honors programs. Therefore President Wright’s braggadocio seems a little misplaced.

Q and A

2007-03-02T08:49:00.000-05:00

Question (from: http://www.dartblog.com/):
"Suggest one radically innovative change-or one innovative policy or program-that would make Dartmouth a better college and which, to the best of your knowledge, no competitor college is doing."

My answer:
Eliminate our college's de facto segregation based on race, sexual orientation, and ethnicity. In other words shuffle the student body (in dorms, social organizations, cafeterias, cultural events, classrooms, etc.) so that the cultural diversity that is so professed in most college communiqués becomes a societal benefit and not a liability ... and the ethereal good claimed to accrue from such diversity can indeed evolve and prosper. Dispose of all faculty titles, pseudo "departments", college-sponsored events, and accredited courses that encourage this de facto segregation and, instead, create a monopole college culture that understands and champions cross-cultural interactions and character building such as described in Martin Luther King Jr.'s dream.

Notice, in my dream, I do not include gender or religion (and disabilities too) as de facto segregations. These are exempted because, if all religions are melded, there is no religion. And if both genders are undifferentiated, then society gets the natural benefits from neither. These two special communities can and have provided great comfort and havens to students in the past (fraternities, sororities, churches, etc.). Now, our inability to make such simple and obvious distinctions as these forces today's society to insist that all sectors (including religion, gender and disabilities) are absolutely equivalent. As a consequence we get such ludicrous scenes as wheel-chair bound individuals "climbing" Mt. Everest, apologies during Christmas Eve services at the Wellesley College chapel for using the word "Christ" in carols, and the requiring of separate restrooms for cross-gender individuals. (I drive my liberal friends crazy when I take my Down syndrome brother-in-law into the voting booth to cast his vote. They say that I get two votes as a consequence. This is true and my brother-in-law should not be given the vote, but in order to show how ludicrous this societal "equivalence" is, I keep having him vote.).

PINING AWAY

2007-02-19T15:02:00.000-05:00

“With the old pine above her,
And the loyal ones who love her.”

One of the deepest rooted of Dartmouth symbols is the Old (or Lone) Pine. It exists on the Dartmouth flag and college insignia … towering above a silhouetted depiction of Eliazer Wheelock, sitting on a barrel of rum, teaching to (or preaching to), one assumes, Samson Occum.
Rather than relate the history of the Old Pine myself, I quote from the Alumni Relations website (The Old Pine) talking about the Hill Winds Society, a student effort to keep alive Dartmouth College traditions by giving docented tours of the campus (see also the February, 2007 issue of “DartmouthLife”):

Mike Amico [of the Hill Winds Society] made a surprising discovery while researching the story of the Old Pine, perhaps the oldest in Dartmouth lore. One of the few pines not felled in 1769, when the College founders razed the woods in the area to build Dartmouth Hall, the Old Pine long stood the test of time on the rocky hill now named Observatory Hill. Eventually, after a lightning strike and other storm damage, the tree weakened, and in 1895 it was cut to a stump. In 1967, with the stump decomposed, the Class of 1927 decided to plant a New Pine nearby, in the Bema. Amico discovered that his own class, the Class of 2007, is to inherit the stewardship of the tree. When it planted the New Pine, the Class of 1927 placed its care in the hands of the Class of 1967, who promised to pass it on in another forty years to the Class of 2007.

The Hill Winds traditions tour begins at Robinson Hall, progresses down North Main Street to Webster Avenue, turns toward Baker Library, heads up Observatory Hill, and winds back down to Dartmouth Hall and the Green.

To arrange a tour by the Hill Winds Society contact Abby Drevs in the Office of Alumni Relations. You can call her at 603/646-2337 or send an e-mail to her at: abigail.e.drevs@dartmouth.edu

You can see a picture from a postcard of the stump of the Old Pine ... found at the “Dartmouth Review” website: (Dartmouth Review)

According to Peter Carini of the college, the Old Pine was a white pine (as are its replacements). For those who don’t know about white pines, they are the stateliest of pines. They can live for more than 200 years and grow 100 feet high or higher. They generally retain their limbs only for about the top half of their height. See Eastern White Pine

Unfortunately, white pines are susceptible to blister rust and, until control measures were taken, was the cause of the loss of many of these beauties. The primary control measure was (and is) to outlaw the cultivation of gooseberries and currents which are a vector for blister rust. Today, you cannot cultivate these berries in some eastern states. (I know something about white pines as I once had huge beauty growing in my Massachuttes back yard.)

SOME REFERENCES

2007-02-12T16:05:00.000-05:00

For those who want to really immerse themselves in Dartmouth lore of yore, I suggest you might want to look at the book, “The Story of Dartmouth” by Wilder Dwight Quint.
You can see this offering on http://books.google.com/books?vid=OCLC01823896&id=UhQTAAAAIAAJ&amp;pg=RA3-PA1&lpg=RA3-PA1&dq=The+Story+of+Dartmouth

Also, John D. Ash ‘56 has written a somewhat melodramatic book of limericks on the Dartmouth experience, “The Green Heart”. You can get a fair sample of this offering (and order it if you are enticed) on http://www.poeticlimericks.com/greenheart.html

EVERYTHING BUT THE KITCHEN SINK

2007-01-24T14:20:00.000-05:00

Writing about Sink Night when I was at (all-male) Dartmouth is not easy … possibly because much of it was a fuzzy, boozy memory. Nevertheless, here goes.

Rushing fraternities then (1957) at the beginning of your sophomore year was an interesting experience. One tried one’s best to be wooed by a goodly number of frat houses without spreading oneself too thin. Generally, you had a fair notion of what houses you could get into without compromising your standards (or, more likely, the fraternity’s). You dressed in de rigueur belt-in-the-back chinos (now known as kakis); white or blue button-down dress shirt, dirty white bucks (suede shoes), rep-striped tie, and hound’s-tooth plaid jacket … and then, breathlessly, made the rounds of Greekdom. This consisted of lots of cheddar cheese, cider (to counteract the effect of the cheese), and small talk. This small talk on both the fraternities' and your part was not necessarily “small”. It was at both ends of the spectrum, either chock full of insincerity or so sincere as to be maudlin. After a few nights of this charm waltz, you generally zeroed in on a house or two that seemed to like you … and you, them.

From then on it was code talk:
“If we offered to pledge you, would you be leaning our way?”
“I really like your house almost better than all the others.”
“We see you have been spending a lot of time at Sigma Nu. Can we infer something from this?”
“My roommate really likes you guys. Do you think he has a chance?”
“Rumor has it that you won’t be rowing again next year. Is that true?”
“My Dad was a Chi Phi and I feel a great loyalty to you guys.”

At the end of the week (I think it was Saturday night), you hopefully got an invitation from the house of your choice (Will we see you at DTD tonight?) or, if you were lucky, from more than one. And, when you showed up (as I recall it) in old clothes (for reasons you will soon understand), you were greeted at the door by a key brother with a pledge pin which you then were invited to wear. It was like the “one step forward” when you join the Army. This brother-assisted pinning (sinking) thus became your solemn commitment to this fraternity.

Once all the pledges had been assembled, you were introduced to those whom you didn’t already know … and then “sink night” began. This was a joyous outpouring of social acceptance. Every fraternity had a continuous open keg … much of which went on the floor. Pledges threw beers on each other, drank some, slapped each other on the back, and, as the night wore on, tore at each other’s clothing until traveling outside in the chilly fall air, became rather risky and risqué. The reason the various hoards of pledges traveled outside was that you were then obliged to visit those houses where you didn’t pledge and ooze some more insincerity (“I really wanted to pledge SAE but I though we might be a mismatch.”) You also went to the fraternities of your friends and roommates to slap them on the back, spill their beer (and yes, drink a bit), and continue to challenge the limits of modesty.

Was all this drunkenness and male nudity homo-erotic? I never believed so then, but being a tad more sophisticated now, I suspect that there was indeed a voyeuristic element to this tradition. I do hope, now that Dartmouth is co-educational, that this particular merriment has been somewhat mollified. In closing, I noticed on “The Dartmouth” website that “the College compiles figures on the number of students that are treated at Dick's House for alcohol-related incidents” after sink night. Let me just say that after one particularly well-behaved Winter Carnival at Dartmouth I came down with a legitimate case of the flu. When I went to Dick’s house, I was admitted and classified as experiencing alcohol poisoning. Nothing I could say would convince these oracles in white that this was a misdiagnosis.

HOMECOMING

2006-12-16T19:17:00.000-05:00

Playing “Men of Dartmouth,” the ragtag band, led a sauntering and sometimes staggering parade of green-bedecked alumni down College Avenue toward Memorial Stadium. It was the 1959 fall Homecoming Weekend and the air was as clear as spring water and as crisp as a ripe apple. Despite copious brandy and scotch swigging along the way, this oiled mass arrived well ahead of the start of the pigskin pandemonium with the Harvard Cantabs. When they entered the gates behind the stands, they were quickly adsorbed into the milling throng of tailgaters chewing on everything from hamburgers to each other. It was a sea of green and white pompoms, Dartmouth Co-op knitted caps, long verdant-striped wool scarves wrapped twice around, and Smoke Shop pipes exuding cherry-scented smoke.

The Saturday-morning trains from Boston and New York had already disgorged their raccoon-coated coeds from “the skids” (Skidmore), “swellsley” (Wellesley), “radical” (Radcliff), and “vasectomy” (Vassar). The buses from New London, NH and Poultney, VT had also been emptied of their sometimes dumber but often warmer girls from “coal chute” (Colby Jr. College) and “the groin” (Green Mountain). Meeting these conveyances were the boys of “dirty mouth” (Dartmouth); some eagerly scanning the assembled faces for their blind dates ... while others were already dry humping their steadies against the nearest lamp post. The more naive or horny females would never see the football game, attend the soiree, or even view a face other than their date’s for the remainder of the weekend.

The prior night there had been a pep rally featuring the sanguine-cheeked college president, the beefy football coach, and lots of players with names like “Moose,” “Grinder,” and “Hulk.” There was also a five-story-high bonfire that the students took as a sacred college tradition and a construction challenge ... whereas the town of “hangover” (Hanover) took it as an opportunity to dispose cheaply of mountains of flammable trash and old railroad ties. The festivities ended with the glee club and the Injineers singing all the popular college songs including “Dartmouth Undying,” “Dartmouth’s in Town Again,” and “Eleazar Wheelock.” Some of these tunes had optional purulent lyrics that the students sang as contretemps against the censored glee club versions.

The gridiron match began poorly with the leg-shaving John Harvards scoring a quick touchdown and a field goal. This brought out the groans and the flasks. Even the “big D” cheerleaders and the bare-chested, war-painted Indian arriving on his saddleless pinto were unable to rouse the morose crowd. This dolor continued as the Crimson scored again and then humbled the Big Green even further with a two-point safety. At half-time, after the atonal marching band had formed some X-rated icons, many disgruntled alumni left the stadium mumbling that such performances were not why they were giving large donations to their alma mater. However, in the second half, things abruptly turned around as Dartmouth scored once on an interception, once after an on-side kick, and, as the clock was running out, one last time on a spectacular, open-field punt return. This, of course, brought out the white handkerchiefs with which to taunt the prissy Harvard fans in the opposite seats.

The game ended without further incident and the stands emptied to fill the fraternity cocktail parties, the dormitory snugglings, and the Hanover Inn mini-reunions. At a house party one could kiss up to your professor for a higher grade, tap your graduated frat brothers for a evening keg, or even snake a date from the various assembled distaffs. The night would then bring a rock-and-roll-banded, theme party at all the Greek houses ... which were the templates from which the movie “Animal House” was drawn. The motif could be old Rome (togas) or a farmyard (hay and roosters) or “Gunsmoke” (ten-gallon hats and chaps) ... among others. By eleven PM the sex pits were filled with groping couples and, by two AM, the floor of the bar room was generally slick with beery puke.

Sunday morning brought a wash-tub full of bourbon milk punch, some soft modern jazz, and bleary-eyed male revelers striving to somehow let their brethren discretely know of their conquests of the previous night. By the time this galvanized caldron was emptied and the old sneaker and dirty jock strap fished from its vanilla reside to the eeks and ughs of the novitiates, it was time to disassemble the weekend and bundle your sloe-eyed date onto her bus or train back to normalcy.

(I wrote this somewhat fictionalized piece ten years ago. I just recently remembered it. GWP)

PASSING THE PLATE

2006-12-12T10:48:00.000-05:00

In the intro to this blog I have asked for contributions from alums as to their own thoughts about Dartmouth Traditions. For various reasons, among them forgetfulness, I cannot write on the following:

- The Freshman (now First Year) Trip
- Freshman (ditto?) Orientation (I’m talking about those group lectures we had as a class)
- Great Issues (those group lectures we had as Seniors)
- Various traditions of various sports teams
- New traditions that have sprung up over the last 45 years

E-mail your contributions to me at muser@tiac.net (with your name and class) and I will be happy to publish them. Thanks

HAZY HAZING

2006-12-09T08:56:00.000-05:00

An Alumnus comment on my entry titled “Beanie Babies” has set me straight about how New Hampshire august legislators feel about hazing … pointing out the N.H. Criminal Code section 631:7(I)(d). To wit:

"Student hazing" means any act directed toward a student, or any coercion or intimidation of a student to act or to participate in or submit to any act, when:(1) Such act is likely or would be perceived by a reasonable person as likely to cause physical or psychological injury to any person; and(2) Such act is a condition of initiation into, admission into, continued membership in or association with any organization.

Now I submit that merely being a student at Dartmouth in the late 1950’s could be construed as being hazed according to the above legalese. Clearly getting passing grades and many other administration-imposed conditions (not urinating off the grandstands during a football game) were required of me for my “continued membership” in the Dartmouth community. And many of these conditions were likely to cause me psychological injury … I still dream about not passing my comprehensive exams (a condition of graduation) or getting a good grade in my SATs (then a condition of admission). Was the four year Physical Education requirement likely to cause physical injury? I submit that many students were. Was the swimming requirement likely to cause psychological trauma? I submit that many students were so traumatized.

Could John Sloan Dickey have gone to jail under such a statute? I submit that he might have … given a vindictive judge and jury. Therefore, I submit that this law is hooey. (And I’ll try to come to New Hampshire only incognito.)

THE HOUSE OF BOURBON

2006-12-08T18:29:00.000-05:00

In my stay at Dartmouth, the Sunday morning of Winter Carnival at most fraternity houses involved a live jazz group and bourbon milk punch. Couples would try to purge the demons and ethers of Friday and Saturday nights with “Take Five” and “Five Feathers.” This milk punch was made in a large galvanized wash tub with left-over whiskey of all stripes (preferably bourbon), many gallons of milk, chopped ice, and many floating half-gallons of vanilla ice cream. There was no formality to serving this elixir … just dip your cup or glass in and shake off the drippings. As the liquid level dropped, there would invariably appear an old dirty sneaker or a sweat-stained jock strap or both. This brought squeals from the more delicate females and derisive laughter from the brothers.

I have preserved this tradition in my home at Christmas-tide by serving bourbon milk punch along with my wife’s Christmas cookies when neighbors and friends drop by. My recipe is as follows:

- In the bottom of a Waring blender (most other blenders don’t have the necessary horsepower) pour about two fingers of Jim Beam bourbon.

- Add about another three fingers of cold milk (whole is preferable but not required).

- Next add about six or eight ice cubes.

- Finally scoop in about a cup or so of Bryer’s vanilla ice cream (must be Bryer’s).

- Cover and hit the strongest blender button until this concoction looks like a vanilla milk shake (a “frappe” in Massachusetts, a “cabinet” in Rhode Island).

- Pour into a punch glass and grate fresh nutmeg on top. (The more nutmeg you add the better dreams for the drinker that night.)

- Or you can make multiple blenders full of same and pour them into a punch bowl. The dirty laundry is optional.

Put a Dave Brubeck CD on the stereo.

ROAD TRIP

2006-12-07T17:20:00.000-05:00

Like in “Animal House”, at Dartmouth in the late 1950’s, when things were most desperate and there was little hope for deliverance, it was time for a ROAD TRIP! This was indeed a non-college-sanctioned bizarre form of testosterone-induced tradition that took many an alcohol-impaired life. I think, in my freshman year, eight classmates were killed in auto accidents, many on the way back from visiting women's colleges. We had a code name for many of these distaff colleges. The ones I remember were:

Colby Jr. College was Coal Shute
Green Mountain was The Groin
Wellesley College was Swellsley
Skidmore College was The Skids

And I’m sure there were many more. (Were Smith and Mount Holyoke known collectively as North Humpton, the town in which they were located?) Of course this was disrespectful, but what wasn’t then (and, I suspect, now)?

The road trip involved stuffing a car with classmates or fraternity brothers and setting off for one of these destinations full of high hopes and hormones. The trip there itself usually involved a fair amount of beer … steeling ourselves for that ever-dangerous “cutting out of the herd.” This last phrase meant the actual getting of a date in as little time as possible … so that there would be enough instance for establishing a connection, both mentally and physically. Think of it as today’s eight-minute dating. My pick-up lines weren’t nearly as innovative as was displayed in “Animal House.”

We usually would go to a pre-selected dorm that previous road-trippers had drummed around campus as being “productive,” and shouting up the stairwell “Anyone want a date!?” Then after a few words to anyone who rose to this bait (these words, of course, would somehow include the word “Dartmouth”) we would be off to the local gin mill to keep the buzz going.

I will draw a curtain on the rest of the evening’s frivolities and return to our story at the drive back to Hanover (often in harsh weather) which was usually filled with more beer and war stories. But, by the end, everyone was asleep except hopefully the driver. These drivers were indeed the most courageous of souls since it was they who kept us all alive for the next bit of road-trip insanity.

BEANIE BABIES

2006-12-05T11:16:00.001-05:00

When I was a pea-green freshman at Dartmouth back in 1956, I had to wear a green beanie for months when I was in public. This was to identify me as a tyro and therefore haze-able by upperclassmen. The hazing I experienced was rather mild – carrying someone’s furniture, shining another’s shoes … no paddling, no sadistic stuff. I do vaguely remember that the Gauntlet was still in effect where freshmen had to run through a double line of seniors swinging belts. But these august upperclassmen were quite lenient and perfunctory. There was also Homecoming Weekend when the freshmen had to gambol around the center-of-campus bonfire. The official end of freshman hazing was Green Key weekend when we were welcomed as belonging. But this was all then part of the Dartmouth experience and I didn’t particularly resent it. This all lasted until 1967 when the administration made wearing the freshman beanie optional (see http://powerlineblog.com/archives/014377.php) and things, it seems, all went downhill from there (or uphill, depending on your point of view … see next paragraph). I don’t know when any form of freshman hazing officially ended (2001?) but I think the appearance of women on campus had a lot to do with it.

This brings me to the subject of hazing in general. I recall my Psychology 101 class telling me that hazing was meant to trip one’s cognitive dissonance and therefore cause one, the hazee, to embrace more fully the hazer’s institution (or occasionally to swing radically in the other direction and denounce the hazer). I do know that hazing seems universal and sometimes very brutal (e.g., the Russian military). Many sports teams (I presume, mostly male) also haze their new players (e.g., the Duke lacrosse team). And, of course, fraternities also have their initiation rituals. I can speak from personal experience here as I was the pledge master of my fraternity my senior year at Dartmouth. Now, assuming that the statute of limitations has run out, I will relate a few experiences. One of my most successful initiation rites was to send the pledge class to New York City on a scavenger hunt (a pastee from a striper, an elephant turd, etc.). I climbed into bed the following night to find the elephant turd neatly secreted under my covers and a gaggle of pledges guffawing outside my bedroom door. This task did bring this pledge class (at least those who went on the trip) very much together as a group … which made me feel like I was doing my job.

However, the actual initiation was something else. It was a bunch of sophomoric pranks (blindfold eating of spaghetti thinking it was worms, a little harmless paddling, Tabasco sauce on the genitalia, etc.) … all of which were pretty much standard fare for my fraternity. However, there was one pledge, now somewhat famous, who took great umbrage at this latter prank. I was even a little worried he would drop out of the frat house as a consequence. Am I sorry about my pledge master reign? Not fully, but I wish I had thought things through a little more and done more of the scavenger hunt and less of the Tabasco sauce type of thing.

Alum Contribution

2006-12-04T09:05:00.001-05:00

Thanks for your new blog! I hadn't realized that the pipe ceremony had also been smashed. What a shame. To this day I still vividly recall surrounding the stump of the Lone Pine with my best friends and breaking our pipes.

As to the specific question of terminology -- I had a private tour of the Smithsonian Institution's Museum of the American Indian with the Museum's Director. He said that at the time they were naming the museum they confronted this question. They surveyed all of the tribes in the land and the overwhelming response was "American Indian" rather than "Native American." If that moniker is good enough for the Smithsonian, it is good enough for me.

Here's another one for the files--"Freshman Trips" are now known as "First-Year Trips," "freshman" being a sexist term, of course.

An[other] interesting story about the death of traditions -- they neutered the words of "Men of Dartmouth" when I was a student there. One of my friends was a member of the Aires. He swore that the Aires, being an all-male a capella group with a storied history, would continue to sing the traditional lyrics to honor this history. I bought their most recent CD a year or two ago and, naturally, they have adopted the new lyrics. Like the end of the pipe ceremony, the passage of student generations tends to erode traditions.

Good luck with the project! I'm glad you are collecting all of these stories.

An Anonymous Alum

GREEN CHEESE

2006-12-01T09:30:00.000-05:00

I guess, given the current contretemps, the previous jettisoning of the noble Indian as Dartmouth’s mascot is no longer a debatable issue. (I still remember the awe and pride I felt when, back in the late 1950’s, the Dartmouth Indian, in full war paint and battle regalia, rode a pinto bareback onto Memorial Field.) We have buried this former college symbol under the detritus of radical nihilism. Unfortunately, like many cherished traditions so trashed, its firing squad was not ready with a suitable replacement. Their quick fix was the “Big Green.” I can only guess this was a bow to Dr. Seuss and/or Kermit the Frog. Now I don’t like to harp, but doesn’t the “Big Green” sound like the name of a Deidre Imus cleaning product? Or an acre of mown alfalfa?

I know I am quite late to this renaming process but perhaps we should rethink this “Big Green” thing and come up with a more inspiring and pertinent replacement. Perhaps:

Eleazer’s (like Yale's Eli’s)
The Diversifiers (a bow to Prexy Wright)
Blocks of Granite (in our muscles and our brains)
Party Animals (a bow to National Lampoon)
Occum’s Razors (my personal favorite)

For those readers who object to my use of the word “Indian” in this treatise, I offer the following story. On talk radio recently I heard a caller object to the use of this term by saying that she was “a Native American and didn’t want her daughter to grow up being called an ‘Indian’ as this was a accident of history -- since Columbus thought he had sailed all the way to India.” To this objection I can only respond that “America” itself was another accident of history propagated by a map drawn honoring Amerigo Vespucci instead of Columbus. Shall we then call Indians “Native Columbians” (to correct this error), or “First People” (like in Canada), or Aborigines (like in Australia)? Some even suggest that we speak only of Indians by referring to their specific tribes. This seems dignified but impractical since the majority of Americans can’t even point out China on a world map let alone distinguish between 500 or so distinct Indian tribes.

I think I’ll just keep it simple-stupid and stay with “Indians.”

TRADITIONS

2006-11-30T14:54:00.000-05:00

A good friend of mine is a charter member of the “Here and Now Society.” He has not one pore of nostalgia on his person. He praises aluminum siding and eschews cedar shingles. He salivates when cobblestones are paved over with asphalt. There is not a vox populari which he does not immediately embrace … from late-term abortions (“unto the sixtieth trimester”) to “The Da Vinci Code” (“a welcome ray of truth”). Tradition to him is anathema. And many more like him believe that a predilection toward “out with the old and in with the new” is the reason that the United States does so well competitively in world commerce.

On the other hand, Tevye sang it well when he lauded the value of tradition in “Fiddler on the Roof”:

”Who, day and night, must scramble for a living,
Feed a wife and children, say his daily prayers?
And who has the right, as master of the house,
To have the final word at home?

(Chorus) Tradition!”

Few cultures value tradition as much as the Jews or the English. The English follow ceremonies that go back to the Middle Ages (e.g., pampering the ravens at the Tower of London. See: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tower_of_London ). One has to only watch a regal coronation in England to see an outpouring of obscure traditions that are nevertheless followed to the letter … or, likewise, a Jewish Seder.

The question is: What is the true value of tradition, particularly insofar as Dartmouth is concerned? Clearly, the dropping of the tradition of seniors breaking their clay pipes on the stump of the Old Pine in the BEMA was not of major consequence, particularly if done without political rancor. (I still remember having to go to the Smoke Shop to buy my clay pipe before this rite.) However, this ceremony did commemorate a transition from college life to real life and, if it had been so represented to the students, would have been of great value. The trouble was that this was not the case. We were just going through the motions. And so this tradition was susceptible and, as such, was open to be attacked for reasons outside of its true meaning. And so it was and so it was dropped.

Again and again this has been the case (as documented in this blog.) I guess my point is that traditions are good in so far as they connect actions of the present to the lessons of the past … with alacrity and clarity. If the powers-to-be at our college refuse to do this, then it is they who are wiping out the footprints of those who came before us … and tarring over the cobblestones.

HUMMER

2006-11-28T09:27:00.000-05:00

When I was a freshman (in the late 1950’s) and lived in Wheeler Hall facing the Green. I greatly enjoyed, through an opened window, the fraternities rehearsing for “Hums” on the steps of Dartmouth Hall on those ever-warming spring evenings. And finally, during Green Key weekend, would come the full-blown Hums competition with every available member of each fraternity dressed in black shoes, black chinos and white shirts singing their hearts out just for the honor of winning this age-old competition. And there were some spine-tingling performances as well-harmonized groups sang a capella many of the old-time pop classics, Dartmouth favorites, and an occasional new composition. As I remember it, the judging was based on percentage participation, song selection, group appearance, and quality of performance.

Then, when I was a member of a fraternity, I too became part of this tradition and savored it immensely. Even though I was most often a “sandbag” – someone who had to learn the songs but, because of poor vocal quality, was not allowed to actually sing – I had to just lip-sync the words. (This was a nod to the percentage participation judging factor.) I still recall most of the words to “All the Things You Are” (even though I never uttered a sound) which was one of the highlights of Sigma Nu’s 1959 performance led by Mike Melvoin, now a music industry poobah in Hollywood.

I’m not exactly clear why this beautiful custom has disappeared under the waves but this website has a clue:

http://www.dartreview.com/archives/2004/05/11/green_key_history_those_were_the_days.php

Apparently, home-grown songs became the norm at Hums in the early 1980’s and eventually they became too raunchy to tolerate. So … another sweet tradition obsoleted itself due to lack of monitoring and attention to its original purpose.

PIPE DREAMS

2006-11-27T15:44:00.000-05:00

I first take up the issue of the Dartmouth's outlawing, in 1993, the custom of seniors breaking their long-stem clay pipes on the stump of the old pine tree in the BEMA during graduation week. This tradition was killed because our Indian brothers accused this rite of involving a "peace pipe". This is, at best, a forced conclusion. Long-stemmed or “Churchwarden” clay pipes existed long before Dartmouth was founded and even before the English came to America. See:

http://history.org/Foundation/journal/Winter03-04/pipes.cfm

Many of these cheap clay pipes were coach drivers' pipes which were used by those early drivers who brought students to Hanover from White River, etc. These coach drivers would, when the nicotine and tar levels around the mouthpiece grew too dark, break off a few inches of the stem to get to a more pristine part. These clay pipes also were used in taverns where patrons could use a communal pipe by first breaking off a few inches of its stem for sanitary sake.

Early Dartmouth students adopted this pipe because of its panache, ubiquity, and low price. They also adopted the habit of periodically shortening the stem for hygienic purposes. Then, of course, when they graduated, this clay pipe would become a college-days throwback and its abandonment for more expensive pipe types (such as briar) was celebrated in this BEMA ceremony. It had absolutely nothing to do with Indians, except perhaps that it was the Indians who introduced the world to tobacco … perhaps an act for which the world should demand reparations?

Alas, we "Big Greeners" have been once again buffaloed by the PC crowd.