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The Yale Alumni Magazine is owned and operated by Yale Alumni Publications, Inc., a nonprofit corporation independent of Yale University. The content of the magazine and its website is the responsibility of the editors and does not necessarily reflect the views of Yale or its officers. |
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The Boola Blanks We very much enjoyed the article by Philip Hirsh about "Boola Boola" in the October issue of the Yale Alumni Magazine("The Secret Source of That Silly Tune"). We noted with interest his having been told that "boola" meant "good" in some Polynesian language and his grandfather's belief (later demonstrated to be incorrect) that "boola" was a cry of joy in Hawaiian. Several years ago, we had the great fortune to vacation in Fiji. As the bus that had met us at the airport drove up the long, palm-lined driveway of our hotel, we could not help but notice two extremely large, skirt-clad Fijian men standing at the front gate as ceremonial guards. As we passed through the gate, the guards raised their spears in a salute and proceeded to yell with great enthusiasm, "Boola Boola!" Not having recognized either of them as an acquaintance from New Haven, we were quite amazed. However, we soon learned that "boola" is the Fijian word for a casual "hello," and we heard friendly cries of "Boola Boola" frequently during our stay.
Missing from Michelin The notice that appears in "A Green Guide to Things Blue" ("Light & Verity," Oct.), hit a sore spot of mine -- recognition of women. A summer issue of the Yale Bulletin and Calendar, which ran a longer announcement about the new Green Guide to Yale and New Haven, also made no mention of Judith Ann Schiff, chief research archivist at the Yale University library, as the author of the guide's superb text. Michelin itself did its best to minimize her role in the printing. Schiff is the Yale Alumni Magazine's very own columnist! I look forward to reading her "Old Yale" at the end of the magazine as I do to a creme brulee at the end of a delicious meal. Even if it is Michelin's policy to play down the authorship of texts of their pocket guides, Yale as an educational institution should recognize the difference between the originality of Schiff's text and that of other Michelin guides. The latter are compilations of facts and lore going back so far that the text is surely well beyond copyright. Tourists, let alone the Yale community and alumni, ought to realize that the text of the guide to Yale and New Haven derives from the accumulated knowledge of a true scholar who deals with primary sources, in spite of the form the text must take for purposes of function and marketing. You rightly mention Secretary Linda Lorimer and Professor Robin Winks for their roles in the origin of the idea. I hope this letter will correct the record about the text, at least for alumni and the Yale community. For the guide's second edition, perhaps Yale could persuade Michelin to change the position and size of the credits in order to give the chief research archivist the recognition she deserves.
Poisonous Pen I am shocked that the editors of the Yale Alumni Magazinewould publish James Gratton's poisonous letter regarding the honorary degree awarded by Yale to William F. Buckley Jr. '50 (Oct.). The remarks on Buckley are incidental to the author's bigoted, slanderous attack on the Catholic church's teaching. It is an open insult to the hundreds of Yalies who revere both their University and their spiritual home. Freedom of expression is not involved here; spewing of hate certainly is.
Many Yalies may have been surprised when Yale awarded an honorary degree to William F. Buckley Jr. From the start, he has been a vigorous critic of Yale. But in the extra- ordinary contributions Buckley has made to the intellectual life of the nation, he has displayed the power of a Yale education to the world. And in his criticisms he has given his alma mater his love -- his tough love. Now comes James S. Gratton. He argues that because Buckley has spoken for the dogmas of the Catholic church, he is unworthy of a Yale honorary degree. Because Buckley is not only a practicing Catholic but a faithful and fluent defender of his faith, Mr. Gratton believes Buckley should not be honored by Yale. Mr. Gratton would, it seems, deny a Yale honorary degree to any faithful Catholic who failed to be quiet about his or her faith. Is he equally unhappy with Yale for admitting Catholics? One wonders. Unlike Mr. Gratton, William F. Buckley Jr. knows and understands the meaning of liberty. In defense of individual liberty, he tolerates those who are pro-abortion or homosexuals. He knows that tolerance implies neither approval nor endorsement, but that it leaves room for others to hold beliefs and to follow practices of which he does not approve. James S. Gratton, Yale '46? A total oxymoron.
I am surprised and disappointed to see you use your magazine to provide a soapbox for anti-Catholic rants such as Mr. Gratton's. Surely, due to the "volume of correspondence" you receive, you were able to publish a less offensive and hate-filled alumni opinion. Apparently, anti-Catholicism is acceptable by your current editorial standards. I hope that you will change this policy in the near future. I would also like address one blatant error in Mr. Gratton's letter: The Roman Catholic church does not -- as Mr. Gratton implies -- oppose family planning. Rather, it promotes all moral means of family planning. The Church teaches that marriage requires "responsible parenthood," and acknowledges that responsible parenthood sometimes requires avoiding a new birth (Humanae Vitae, 10). Natural family planning (sometimes called the Billings ovulation method or the sympto-thermal method) is more effective at regulating births than any form of contraception, is less expensive, and most important, is moral.
Stanford Time? President Levin's Freshman Address, "Yale Time" (Oct.), most eloquently sent a valuable and inspiring message. But it contained a hugely misstated detail. I suspect that a rival institution insidiously caused the error, but was careless in covering its tracks. The age of the universe is a very small fraction of 1.5 quadrillion years. Most astronomers put it in the vicinity of 15 billion years. One billion is represented as the number one followed by nine zeros. In the U.S., one quadrillion is represented by the number one followed by 15 zeros. In short, "1.5 quadrillion years" is off by a factor of 100,000! Just imagine the scorn this misstatement will bring down on us! And readers in the United Kingdom and Germany will be even more contemptuous -- in those countries, according to my dictionary, one quadrillion is the number one followed by 24 zeros. They will see an error factor of 100 million millions! My eagle eye detected that the source of this gross misinformation was one Steven Chu of Stanford University. I suggest that Stanford is cunningly attempting to achieve a higher reputation than Yale's, and has been unable to devise an easier way to do it than to discredit Yale!
Myopic Topic I read with interest the myopic letter to the editor, entitled "Men Will Be Boys," in the October issue. The wearing of baseball caps by students is not novel. Baseball caps serve several purposes: 1) They cover hair that is not fit to be seen by other humans, 2) They cut down on glare from the blackboard, and 3) Probably most important, they signify an important measure in collegiate terms known as the BCR (baseball cap ratio). The premise is that classes with higher BCR are easier. Mr. Price must admit that college life and society have changed significantly in the 51 years since he left Yale. Baseball caps are everywhere. These students do not mean any disrespect to Professor Nordhaus. On the contrary, he is greatly respected. Baseball caps are worn by presidential candidates along the campaign trail, by almost every adolescent I see in my private practice, and even by Yale students. Baseball caps are here to stay.
Cousin Charlemagne? As an evolutionary biologist and advocate of cladistics as both a method of phylogenetic analysis and a basis for classification, I would like to comment on the letter of G. Carleton Ray in the October Yale Alumni Magazine. He approvingly cites the complaint of Ernst Mayr of Harvard that according to cladistic principles, "the modern descendants of Charlemagne are more closely related to him than he was to his brothers and sisters." Cladistics is a method that groups organisms on the basis of uniquely evolved features. The possession of these unique features is what permits recognition of the genealogical link between the first organism to show them with all of its descendants. Were Charlemagne, like Queen Victoria, the source of a mutation for a genetic disease such as hemophilia, his descendants would surely be more interested in this fact than that in most of his other genes he resembled his brothers and sisters. For this reason, genealogy is a more informative, therefore useful, basis for grouping organisms than is total similarity.
Lost Legend In the fall of 1937, I was a senior at Hillhouse High School (then located opposite Payne Whitney Gymnasium on a site later to become the home of Morse and Stiles Colleges). In those days, I often took a shortcut to York Street via an alley that was flanked by Mory's on one side and the Yale Co-op on the other. During football season, the Co-op would have in the window a projector running the highlights of the last Yale game. Many highlighted moments focused on the legendary feats of Larry Kelley ("Faces," Oct.). He was great copy -- not only for his athleticism, but also for his witticisms, his urbane quips, and his stylish manner. I never tired of seeing the film of him leaping between two Princeton defenders, snaring the ball with one hand and then outdodging and outrunning them to the end zone for the winning touchdown. Up and down York Street, Chapel Street, and Broadway there would be clusters of viewers huddled in front of various store windows looking at the latest exploits of Larry Kelley. In those days, Kelley was the "golden boy" of Yale and New Haven. He managed, perhaps as no one else has, to bridge the gap between town and gown. To those who cherish the memories of Kelley's "Bright College Years," the tragic circumstance of his death after such a promising beginning is especially poignant.
Missing Act I am surprised that you did not include The Waterbury Tales in your sequence of Dramat successes ("A Century of Drama at Yale," Oct.). In 1941 it played to rave reviews from New Haven to Minneapolis. |
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