Derelict of the Year 2000
Winner
Congratulations to Jack Hoppin.
Nominations
- Oliverio Alvarez
- Commodus
- Jack Hoppin
- Vladimir Zakharov - Hotel Spelunka
- Rebecca Lamkin
- Arthur Lo
- David Lomen
- Tom Kennedy
- Angel Pineda
- Chris Rasmussen
- David Ropp
- Lucia Williams
- Diedre Smith
Oliverio Alvarez
Remember who won the election in Iceland in 1275? You don't? How about the major political factions of Majorca? Still no clue? What about the the 1975 Oscar winner for best set design in a foreign musical about dogs playing poker? Still no answer? Well just ask Oliverio. This Guatamalen dynamo is the king of random facts. And not only does he know the most random facts, but he spews them at the most random time, such as when you are working on homework, sitting through the colloquium, or just trying to sleep. Vote for Oliverio, king of the random facts.
Commodus
Although dead 8 years by April 200 (see the deadline for nominations), it sounds to me that Roman Emperor Commodus (Emperor, 180-192) would be an ideal candidate for derelict. See a brief biography at this site, which may be used in support of the nomination (with due care to avoid copyright violations, of course).
Jack Hoppin
Not since Anu ( an outstanding example of dereliction ) has a student failed the qual to come back to get a PhD pass. Do not let that apparent drive fool you; behind that mathematician's facade lies a bleach blonde beach volleyball playing dude. Let me tell you.
Who do you know was planning on a summer of beach volleyball in LA? Who do you know decides to bleach his hair blonde? Who do you know receives emails containing a slew of JPEG files of doubtful moral character and flashes them in the computer lab? Who gives death threats to those wanting to write him derelict nomination letters?
If you answered John ``Jack'' Hoppin, then you are correct.
Well, then there is the ``poo-poo'' dance. Now this lies in a different world than most of us live in. Imagine doing interpretative dance on the toilet while grooving to the techno sounds of the Mission Impossible soundtrack. Our very own Jack Hoppin performed this routine at Laff's comedy club. Now, THAT is over the edge. Not only that, he carries around a business card offering his services as a poo-poo dancer for hire...
When asked as to why he would do such a thing, he responds:
``My real calling is not that of a mathematician - I have always been a performance artist at heart. ''
In the tradition of the fine derelicts of the past, Jack adds color to our department.
Vote for Jack, because he is the future of dereliction.
Vladimir Zakharov - Hotel Spelunka
The strange events I am about to relate are true. But the story is incomplete and I leave it to you, the reader, and to your fertile imagination to fill in the blanks and decide whether the central character Vladimir Eugenovich is the innocent he claims or instead is well worthy of your millenium vote.
Hotel Spelunka is a modest four storey whitewashed inn facing the sea at the southern boundary of a small sunsplashed town called Cargese. It is owned by Papa Godot and his two Jesse Ventura look-alike sons, Pacobel and Estragon. Both wear black berets to signal they are sons of Corsica Libre. In room 12 on the third floor, they tolerate their only permanent resident, the amazon breasted Madame d'Ovary with the enigmatic smile. She has long abandoned her first profession and now amuses herself gargling the blood of sacrificed cats.
The stranger in room 11 knows that he is welcome, but only for a finite time. By day, from his small balcony, he can see over the roofs of the scientific institute and across the bay of sparkling glitter past the distant rock to the smoky hills beyond Ajaccio and dream the dreams of the Pheonician navigators. On moonless nights, he can dream of love and poetry against an inky black curtain studded with diamonds. He has absolutely no idea whatsoever of the calamitous events which are about to befall him on one such moonless night,late in August of '99.
The stranger, Vladimir Eugenovich, Russian by birth and blood, scientist by inclination and poet by avocation, had stopped off at the living quarters of the delinquent from Tir na n'og, a former derelict of the year. As later reported by the upstairs neighbour, Professeur Pomme de Terre, whose secret fantasy was to sup Corsican Red from the navel of Madame d'Ovary, the mood was jovial and lively with spirited and sometimes quarrelsome conversation fueled by Jack Daniels and national prejudices. There were many intermittent bursts of gutteral gaelic and slavic expletives, story telling, anecdotes, jokes, and the singing of ribald songs. About midnight, the last clink of empty bottles signaled the emergence of two burly shadows lurching toward the roadway. After an initial incorrect choice of direction, the shadows honed in on the distant lights of Cargese and began stumbling their way towards the Spelunka. Like any good host, the delinquent was seeing his guest safely home.
Here the story gets a little vague. A gallic physicist, Uriah Cheap of room 18 directly above room 11, who was later to play the role of Avocat, overheard the Russian invite the delinquint to join him in an early morning nightcap with the aid of several bottles of Corsican Red. After that, there are no reliable accounts.
The next stage in the narrative belongs to the underwear and lingerie salesman, Monsieur LeVeque, who had been making his usual summer rounds. Being portly of build, sore of back and short of breath, Monsieur LeVeque, was inclined to sleep facing upwards with his mouth wide open. On the following morning, it was a Sunday, the good Monsieur was awakened both by the shafts of morning sunlight streaming through his window and the persistent dripping of Corsican Red into his mouth from the ceiling above. Cocking open a curious eye, he was horrified to see a red stain spreading across the blueish white ceiling right above his head. Fearing the worst, he hastily alerted proprieter Godot who, together with Pacobel and Estragon, went to investigate. They were simultaneously stunned and enthralled by the sight that greeted them on opening the door. Vivid blood red stains covered previously hospital white walls. To their everlasting credit, van Gogh, Monet and Dali sprang to mind for a few milliseconds before being replaced by anger, revenge and compensation. Luckily, the ubiquitous gallic physicist happened by just as the men devoted to Corsican liberty and independence hauled the hapless and frenchless Vladimir Eugenovich from his bed hurling invective in torrents and streams.
Negotiations went on much of the morning with the Russian proclaiming his innocence or at most partial guilt. It was the delinquent who, stumbling out of his room, had drop kicked the bottles against the walls. All the Russian remembered was dancing with the muse of poetry and writing feverish verse.
In the end, it was his poetry that saved the day. The Corsicans, men of intellect as well as men of muscle, with great respect for that universal language which comes closest to expressing our true nature, consented to accept several signed books of Russian verse, a wad of wine soaked notes of various currencies and a promise that, on his next visit, the Russian would stay at the rival hotel. In the pervading spirit of forgiveness that followed the agreement consummated with yet another bottle of Corsican Red, the consensus was that it was most likely the delinquent who was responsible for the unfortunate redecoration of rooms 11 and 4 below.
But I have my doubts. What really happened on the fateful night? Was Vladimir Eugenovich dancing with the muse of poetry in his mind or was he really dancing with Madame d'Ovary in the flesh? Could Monsieur LeVeque at that early hour really distinguish between sangria and sang? Perhaps there is a more sinister interpretation involving Madame d'Ovary. It was said that she would on occasion sacrifice the cats in the presence of Papa and Estragon. Could the ritual have gone wrong and Godot and Estragon waited for the hapless Vladimir to lay the blame? Or perhaps Professeur Pomme de Terre, driven by his secret desire for Madame, chose that very night to try to penetrate the good lady's defenses and instead found her in flagrante waltzo with the Russian, a sight which drove him to a red revenge. And what of the ubiquitous Monsieur Cheap, the french physicist in number 18? Did anyone think to examine the ceiling of room 11?
So the task I leave you, dear reader, admittedly a difficult one, is to decide for yourself. For myself, I think the Russian is guilty as sin...
Rebecca Lamkin
I want to propose Becky Lamkin for the derelict of the year award. She showed up for her interview to get an adjoint position here at the U of A in jeans and T-shirt.
One thing more: she got the job!!
Arthur Lo
While Arthur's talents and virtues are many, Arthur has dedicated his existence to one overriding interests - bicycles, and I do mean that in plural, folks. Many people think that the biblical reference is ``Man cannot LIVE on BREAD alone'' but in Arthur's Good Book those important words are `RIDE' and `ONE BICYCLE'. In his own words, ``Well, everybody needs a full-suspension, a hard-tail and a roadbike but for commuting...''. Yes, earlier this year Arthur realised that there was something missing in his life, there was a hole in his storage cupboard that could only be filled by, by, by something strong yet stream-lined, something that would stand up to the rigors of daily life and yet could still be shined `til it gleams - of course, a commuter bike!
For the man who describes his newly purchased car as his fifth and sixth pair of wheels, life's decisions are hard. On of the biggies is ``Do I dress to match my bike or choose my bike to match my outfit?''
But Arthur soldiers on, fervently pursuing his chosen topic of research - ``What other niches in my life could be filled by Pedal Power?''
Perhaps a recumbent next?
David Lomen
This NOMINEE is not a man who seeks notoriety in the high-tech computer automation world, despite his expertise, published books (dl^2), and distinguished professor award in the field. He has earned every title, BUT when it comes to computer technology, this nominee fights computer automation like Sumo Wrestlers being forced to learn basic keyboard computer skills. Dr. David Lomen simply refuses to conform and accept today's computer automation. According to Lomen, ``It's the rest of the world that is outdated.'' He is quite happy in his day-to-day primitive typing/editing. To challenge the man on his preferred software style is no different than pointing out to him that commas typically belong inside the closing apostrophe.
``Cutting and pasting'' with scissors and tape is his standard and usual method for editing text, and it is this automated procedure he uses to operate on his text. The good news is: He IS an advocate of removable tape as long as he doesn't confuse which dispenser is which.
The keystroke combination, Shift + F7, remains stoned in this professor's mathematical mind. FEAR NOT, WP 5.1 prevails! Shift + F7 RULES over any Bill Gates' pull-down menu(s) or automated icon button(s) for this ``distinguished professor''. He know the way, but don't show him! For those in the department that don't recall that Windows 3.1 ever existed in this national highly-ranked Mathematics Department--BEWARE--you don't want to be around the department if Bob Condon upgrades Lomen's computer from the archaic Windows 3.1/WP 5.1 era to the Windows/Word environment. Lomen does not want to come out of his word processing Stone Age Shell.
You will not find this ``nationally known mathematician'' speaking on behalf of Microsoft Upgrades—uhhh-ahhh! However, if the National Science Foundation were to ever fund/judge the man on his computer technology preference, it's okay folks; he's well covered. WordPerfect Downgrade Inc. would distinguish him like no other professor in the world; fund him, insist he teach, and publish for their WP Downgrade Company.
On another derelict note, Lomen's unique stride and heartfelt, friendly smile is overridden by the appearance of his (on occasion) preferred one-stemmed, displaced fitting eyeglasses--but then again, it is not his intention to be a Fashion Guru in the eyewear industry. Alas, he has backup glasses to recover any lost ones when it slips his mind as to which office he left them in... and if not the missing eyewear, it would be his lunch, briefcase, pen, newspapers, tests, mail, or whatever other belongings he happens to be transporting on his day-to-day department office journey.
Above any, all, and future derelict awards that this NOMINEE may receive, this derelict award may top his ongoing list of awards. Would it even matter if NSF and other agencies that fund Lomen for doing research in computer software development (among other areas) knew the criteria as to why Dr. Lomen is being nominated for this Derelict Award? The vote is yours!
(Note: This nomination was written and edited with automated software in good, honest humor.)
Tom Kennedy
There are several worthy contenders for derelict-of-the-year in our department who share the curse of Edward Kennedy: they have worthy nominations and high regard BUT also have a past that rises up and haunts them once they receive the limelight.
Interestingly, a past like Kennedy's would actually enhance ones chance at winning THIS election. In fact, the whole Kennedy family seems to possess considerable D.O.Y. talent. Now we just have to wait for one of them to exhibit MATHEMATICAL talent, so that we can invite them to be a part of our Dept, and they would carry on this new tradition with the same diligence that they have shown in national politics!
What am I talking about? We DO have a Kennedy in the Dept! Prof. Tom may only be distantly related to the polical part of the family, but he must share the clan tendency to get into embarrassing trouble. I don't know of any specifics (yet), but I certainly am suspicious of anyone who walks around the department barefoot and in spandex. Does he really bike to school, or does he secretly want to be featured in the next "Studmuffins of Science" calendar? It seems pretty provacative to me, and reason worthy of being a derelict.
Angel Pineda
The trouble all began when Angel applied for some ritzy summer program and discovered he needed several letters of recommendation. One of the faculty members he contacted agreed to sign the letter but explained that Angel had to write it himself. Any other student would have taken home the message ``Dr. X is a jerk. Everybody already knew that.''
Sr. Pineda took home the message ``What a brilliant labor saving device.''
More recently, when the derelict committee sent out its request for nominations our overworked Honduran knew what had to be done. He started shooting off emails to everybody he thought deserving: ``I think the following things you have done in the past year make you a candidate for the derelict award... You should write yourself a nomination.''
Sorry Angel, we decided not to nominate ourselves as we think there is someone more worthy!
Chris Rasmussen
First, we nominate Chris for spilling the blue-dyed water out of a Klein bottle onto the carpet at the party at Dr. McCallum's house.
But even better; after a softball game this season, he and some people went to dinner. He was supposed to give 2 people a ride home from dinner and forgot to unlock the back door of his car. Chris actually drove off with one of the team members/fellow math students standing in the parking lot still waiting for the door to be unlocked. It wasn't until he got to their house until he realized that one of the two people was not in the car.
David Ropp
The derelict award has never been awarded twice to the same person, but if ever there was a candidate who deserved the award twice, it is David Ropp. He's already known for his dancing exploits and poor driving skills, so we won't dwell on those. However, did you know that:
- he is a charter member of the Accordion Club of Tucson, and has performed with this group in public;
- he won afro contests (see above) in both the Arizona Republic and the Arizona Daily Star last summer;
- he waited in line for an hour to have his picture (see below) taken with the U of A representatives of Playboy's ``Women of the PAC-10'' pictoral;
These would be enough to get him a nomination. However, the clincher is this: this semester, his last at our university, during which he presented his final defense, David was still taking a class. Moreover, he took an exam in that class the day after his final defense. Upon seeing David in class that day, the professor wisely asked him if he was sober. We're not sure if he ever is.
Lucia Williams
I would like to nominate LUCIA WILLIAMS - Applied Math, Staff/Student Worker.
Lucia has what is uncommonly known as Bad Car ``CARMA'' (as opposed to Karma).
Lucia has a long and involved history of car ``CARMA''. Her cars have been broken into, vandalised, rear-ended, and the latest experience which takes the cake, is the case of mysterious hit and run. Lucia somehow managed to CARMANIZE whilst asleep in the middle of the night with her car being innocently parked outside of her parents home. While Lucia slumbered, her car was involved in a hit and run - the driver of the other vehicle literally ``running'' from the scene and leaving their car and hers smashed up and parallel parked in the middle of the street!! Even the Police who arrived on the scene at 2:00 am found this one ``novel''! Insurance Report was a total right-off!
The lesson here is DO NOT PARK NEXT TO LUCIA or the Bad Car CARMA may bounce onto your vehicle.
(Nomination supplied by her Mother - who is, at this point, beginning to wonder!)
Diedre Smith
She came to drink, She came to dance.
She came to eat and more.
She dragged Math Professors to the floor.
What for? to dance and more.
They screamed, they yelled and some even kicked.
Did that stop her? Oh no, not her.
She got her dances with one or two.
By what means you may wonder?
It was her skirt, yes her skirt.
Slit up to there Where?? There!!
And if you failed to notice that
She sent up a flare.
"Look at those legs" she loudly proclaimed.
"They're damned good if I say so myself."
She would point to her exposed thigh,
Hike the skirt up higher--She should have sent up a flier.
Modesty is not her bag, we have pictures to show one and all.
They are on the "blue" partition as you come in 108.
We call it The Deirdre Smith wall.
Dave Levermore never knew what he did when
To his wedding reception he invited her.
Ask Jim and Dan and Bill.
The evening was just a blurrrrrrrr.
Now she's not just a "one time party girl".
Her fame is spreading fast.
The Derelict party could be her next "gig"
And the Award would assure her fame would last.