I may have blogged about this 5 years ago, at my first college reunion (our 30th), but I suppose it bears repeating: I feel very nostalgic, of course, but I also have the distinct feeling that I wasted my time at Columbia. I have no evidence for this other than my dismal (though passing) academic record and my remembrance of many classes cut or just ignored. The people who have been speaking with us today are all very insistent that the core curriculum is the jewel of Columbia and something that really brings out the best in students. I remember it as a very dreary set of assigned books that I should have read anyway. I have especially dismal memories of Kant. Still have the book at home, of course.
Nostalgia is not a bad thing, of course. Remembrances of things past, tinged with pride, happiness, as well as sadness and regret, inform the rest of our lives and make us even more human than we would be otherwise. Apes, as far as I know, do not become nostalgic (although one never really knows).
Two nights ago we had our first event: a cocktail party at a Barnard 1974 classmate’s digs in the 80’s off Fifth Avenue. Of course, my classmate Richard was there. He is Italian with an afro, and my main memory of him during our time at Columbia was of him taking swimming class with me, not wearing a swimsuit, and having an enormous uncut dick. I do not mention this in polite (or even impolite) company today, but it will always remain in my memory so I record it here (under a Friends-only filter in case he takes a look at my blog). Richard is very outspoken, somewhat salival in speaking, and likes me, thus he sits near me at every event we attend together. Oh well, such is my fate.
I ended up sitting with a cardiologist who is a Barnard grad, and we talked about health for quite a while. Another cardiologist came by to put in her tuppence, and a nephrologist was also holding forth. I do wish I hadn’t gotten into the middle of that. Off home to bed.
On Friday was the tours and Caf