A visit to the U of A and ASU, where Wildcats and Sun Devils live
The air is heavenly, here in Arizona. “February is the best month,” some people say. “Along with October.” The summers can be punishing. But what payoffs, in those other months! “June, July, and August are tough,” says an Arizonan. “But if you can just get through those three — you’re fine.”
• Spring training is about to begin. I always thought of it as a Florida thing. (I’m a Michigander, and our Tigers train in Lakeland.) But now the majors are evenly split: 15 teams train in Florida (the Grapefruit League) and 15 train in Arizona (the Cactus League).
• On a Sunday morning, very few people are about, in Tempe. Those who are — tend to be vagrants. (There’s a word from the past.) Are they poor (merely)? Addicted? Mentally ill? All of the above? This is a perennial subject, vexing and painful (which my column has taken up many times, including last month.)
• Here’s a very pretty church — simple:
Actually, this place is a “community center,” I understand.
• Very American, very today, right?
Same (big-time):
• What in the world do I see? What kind of contraption is this, as out of an updated Chitty Chitty Bang Bang? It’s a Jaguar — but there’s something large and whirly on the top, and there are a couple of smaller whirly things on the sides. Turns out to be a Waymo — a self-driving car.
• On the sidewalk are some Jehovah’s Witnesses ladies — well-dressed and polite, as usual. I am impressed with them, always have been.
• In Greater Phoenix, street names persist: “Indian Trail,” “East Apache.” Interesting that they have not been changed. Maybe they’re here to stay, if they’ve made it this long?
• Tempe is the home of Arizona State University, as you know. (And “Tempe” is pronounced “Tem-PEE,” though I once used to think, and say, “Tempy.”) Now I’m off to Tucson, home of the University of Arizona.
“Tucson” — one of the most strangely pronounced place-names in America, surely.
• Driving around in California last month, I was amazed at the number of ads — number of billboards and such — for personal-injury lawyers. I am amazed again. There are hundreds and hundreds of businesses, or trades, under the sun. And the percentage of ads for personal-injury lawyers is . . . high. Weirdly high.
Must be a reason . . .
• Ah, the U of A. There is something both pleasant and exotic about a campus with orange trees. (Exotic to a Midwesterner like me.)
• The campus is a weapon-free zone, the sign says. I know what the sign means. But would it be more accurate to say that the campus is one on which weapons are forbidden? When something is forbidden, it may be present nonetheless . . .
• You see this slogan all over, in letters big and small:
What gives?
“Button” Salmon was a BMOC — a Big Man on Campus. Student-body president, quarterback, etc. He was fatally injured in a car accident, in 1926. Before he died, he said to a coach, “Tell the team to bear down.”
Moving.
• Isn’t this a beautiful museum? Stately as all get-out.
• There is something civilized about a fountain surrounded by flowers. It is a sight that breathes civilization.
• Talking with students, I ask, “Are the people friendly here? Are your classmates friendly?” One young man answers, “For the most part. There are two groups of students, I would say. There are people who want to get a college education. And there are people whose parents want them to. The first group is smaller. And friendlier.”
Interesting.
• There are a good number of students who are in uniform — military uniform — which is encouraging, to me.
• In this picture is a clock — a striking clock. I intend no pun. I mean a handsome clock. I’m always surprised when a public clock works, as this one does. I mean, when the clock is more than an art object. When it shows the correct time, too.
• “Compassion” and its translation, “Compasión.”
Want to tell you a story. Years ago, in New York, I entered a voting booth. The ballot included a referendum, which asked you to choose between “Yes/Sí” and “No/No.” I thought, “No, no!”
Anyway, moving on . . .
• On campus, and around town, I see “Sun Tran.” It has nothing to do with sexual politics (blessedly). It refers to public transportation . . .
• You know what’s interesting? This, down on the sidewalk, down on the street, before you cross. Till now, I had never seen it anywhere outside Great Britain.
• Daniel Asia is an adornment to the U of A. He is a composer, and professor. He has a big catalogue — a big catalogue of music. Something brief and orchestral? And wonderful? Try his Gateways, here.
• Further adornments: Saura Masconale and Simone Sepe, a married couple. A “power couple,” in the intellectual sphere. She is a professor in the department of political economy and moral science. He is a professor of law and finance. Moreover, they are a touch of Italy — a splendid touch — here in the American Southwest.
• I also have the pleasure of meeting Helena Rodrigues, a political scientist who is a vice president of the university and the head of human resources. The sheer sensitivity of an HR job, the human drama that you have to deal with, day after day . . . one could write books . . .
• Above, I used the phrase “power couple.” Well, I present to you Robert and Guna Mundheim. He teaches in the law school. Was the dean at Penn. Was general counsel in the Treasury Department, under Blumenthal and Miller. Etc., etc. Born in Germany, in 1933 (pregnant year). And Guna? A chemist and an artist, both — from Latvia, originally.
Somebody ought to make a documentary . . .
• On the subject of storm-tossed lives: Here in Tucson, I meet a young Afghan. Age 24. He has been working his tail off. Has not seen his wife and three children in two years. They have been in Afghanistan — but, five days from now, they are coming to join him. They are arriving at the Tucson airport, to be a whole family once more, and to start their new lives.
You can imagine the excitement of this young man. Barely expressible.
• See this tree? The tall skinny one in the middle? Reminds me of paintings by Leonardo.
I beg you: There is no such artist as “da Vinci.” It’s “Leonardo” or “Leonardo da Vinci.” Same as we would not say “of Orange” but “William of Orange.”
• Hang on, did I say “orange”? Have another tree:
• On the below sign, the name of the late American labor leader is rendered Spanishly. But we have never pronounced it that way — not in this country. If I were in charge (pause to chuckle), I would do “Cesar Chavez.” And I think he would agree with me . . .
• I thought I felt a certain electricity . . .
• At the Arizona Inn, the chef makes ice cream, in addition to fajitas and the like. If you have the chance to try his, or her, cappuccino ginger — oh, don’t miss it.
• Back to Tempe, and Arizona State University. May I give you a memory? I have attended the Rose Bowl once. It was on New Year’s Day 1987. My Michigan Wolverines played the Arizona Sun Devils and lost. Still stings, kind of.
• Another memory, related to sports. Our basketball coach — the Michigan basketball coach — was Bill Frieder. Who left Ann Arbor for Tempe, in 1989. Here is the ASU arena, accompanied by palm trees and a mountain. Pretty wonderful, right?
• As a rule, the students here wait at stoplights. What I mean is: When they’re on foot, they wait for “Walk.” We did not do that in Ann Arbor. ASU kids are pretty civilized, at least by that measure. (I find it almost impossible to wait when there are no cars coming. My Ann Arbor feet be itchin’.)
• A typical college-town eatery:
For breakfast, I have what I can only describe as a kind of sludge — a chocolate-coffee sludge, with chia seeds, dates, and other things. Gross-looking. And delicious. Wish I could have it again.
• Ah, hello, Barry M.!
• I think of a cheer, from high-school days: “Got the spirit? Let’s hear it.”
• School of music as coliseum:
• The art museum — smartly and fetchingly designed:
• A pietà of the Southwest, by Luis Jiménez (1987):
• A view of the Paul V. Galvin Playhouse Theatre:
I will impose the following opinion: When you have “playhouse,” you don’t need “theater” (or “theatre”). Pick one, I say . . .
• The campus store — where they sell T-shirts, sweatshirts, caps, etc. — is huge. I mean egnormous, as my sister used to say. Like a junior Walmart.
• I am such a sucker for these flowers — love them. Don’t know what they are.
• Care for an orange tree with your science building?
I like the inscription of names — great names. Names to look up to, or be inspired by. The Butler Library at Columbia U has Homer, Herodotus, Sophocles, Plato, Aristotle, Demosthenes, Cicero, and Vergil (spelled that way). I think, too, of the Kaufmann Concert Hall, in the 92nd Street Y (also in New York). Among the names there are Dante, Bach, Maimonides, and Shakespeare. How about the Jefferson Building, that temple of the Library of Congress? Busts of Dante (him again), Goethe, Emerson, and others.
Well, the science building here at Arizona State has a string of names at the top, which I will now list — they are not in chronological (or alphabetical) order, as you’ll see: Hippocrates, Leeuwenhoek, Linnaeus, Vesalius, Darwin, Mendel, Lavoisier, Pasteur, Curie, Faraday, Galileo, Bacon, Franklin, Archimedes, Copernicus, and Newton.
One name, I did not know, until now. Andreas Vesalius was born in Brussels, in 1564. Was intimate with human anatomy (in a scientific way, I mean). Smart son-of-a-gun.
• “Walk-only zones.” Oh, bless them.
Years ago, I was at Stanford, and I thought those guys, those students, would run me over, whizzing around on their swarms of bikes.
• Seeing this, I thought, “What this country needs is more ladies named ‘Lattie.’”
Oh, excuse me, Mr. Coor. Lattie F. Coor was president of Arizona State from 1990 to 2002. (Before that, for 23 years, he was the president of the University of Vermont.)
• Doesn’t this writers’ house look nice?
Formally speaking, it is the Virginia G. Piper Writers’ House. She was married to the aforementioned Paul V. Galvin, who co-founded Motorola and invented the car radio.
• An oldie but goodie:
• Got a kick out of this menu. A “Little One” — a little burger — is “for little kids & little old ladies.”
• Oh, tell me about it. Seriously.
• A banner featuring Lucy Lara, who was captain of the soccer team. “I don’t want my parents to struggle anymore. The whole time I was going to college and getting my master’s, the only thing I had on my mind was my family.”
Bless Lucy Lara, bless all Arizona State Sun Devils and U of A Wildcats, and bless all of you, my friends. See you later.
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