Our Captivating Compendium

THE visage above belongs to Mad Dog, whose car-chasing escapades around the Green are the stuff of legend. When the Hanover dogcatcher apprehended this Laufenhund a few months ago, there was a protest rally held under the banner of "Free Mad Dog," and then, in a student poll (not binding) for a new College symbol "Mad Dogs" came in a close second.

All of which was pleasantly diverting.

With Mad Dog in mind, we have cast an eye around the campus for unsung heroes, for the little known, the singularly captivating, and, in one or two jaundiced moments, the patently awful.

Some disputatious critics will fault these findings for bias or worse, but we stand by them — until the time comes for another diverting look around. Or until fickle fame deserts Mad Dog for another legend-in-our-time.

Gifted Gab

Charlie Wood is expansive — in person, in personality, in conversation. Perhaps the most animatedly literate former Harvard football player on the faculty, Wood is an eloquent expert in medieval history. A man whose interests encompass "Menstruation in the Middle Ages" (a recent publication) and manners and morals in The Age of Chivalry (one of his books), Wood is famous for his flair in educating freshmen in the affairs of peasants and popes. Runner-up: Charles Stinson, a walking encyclopedia of early church history and a fount of caustic wit, might have been Top Talker if he hadn't refused to be photographed. He spent a half hour telling us why we couldn't take his picture. Stinson formerly used a cane to great advantage while lecturing, but he is still capable of attracting and holding attention during his religion classes.

Table with a view

Sooner or later, just about everybody who's anybody has to pass through the Reserve Corridor of Baker Library. Sitting at the long tables, vision unobstructed by hanging lights., partitions, or structural supports, one can easily cast furtive, sidelong glances at the captivating procession of the opposite sex.

Unlikeliest discovery

Our is probably the only medical school east of Hong Kong with a Chinese cafeteria. Five years ago, Cynthia Ou, wife of a Medical School professor, took over a floundering hamburger shop and started a brisk business in succulent Chinese specialties. She is assisted by a staff of five, and, yes, she supplies chopsticks.

Stopper

Most dramatic career setback: "You weren't planning on being a physician, were you?" (Professor Walter Stockmayer to a freshman in Chemistry 5, winter 1977.)

Biggest thrill — winter

There is nothing like challenging a mountain, especially if you arrive at the bottom in a condition to tell about it. The Dartmouth Skiway boasts many fine trails, but Worden's Schuss is the exclusive province of the daredevils. Two of the pitches are so steep that even the snow slides off them, leaving an obstacle course of rocks and ice.

Coziest Cave

Beneath and behind papers, books, and whatnots in 209 Sanborn is the desk, the chair, and the person of Professor Louis Renza. Alas, he recently cleaned up the place "because my colleagues were giving me so much grief."

Hottest freebie

Grubby and exhausted hikers on the Appalachian Trail have been known to bum a refreshing shower off the College at Alumni Gym, which is located right on the A.T. route through town. Runner-up: Butterfield Hall, Fraternity Row's answer to the water shortage. Phi Delta Alpha "cleans up" in Butterfield's showers after its annual Mud Bowl, proving once and for all that even if you make your own bed you don't have to sleep in it.

Dirtiest show in town

The aforementioned Mud Bowl, which well-dressed alumni and visitors find to be good, clean fun — until they're asked to rub elbows with the Phis in the sty.

Dogless jog

The indoor track in Leverone Field House is probably the most popular, but the miles of trails through the golf course are undoubtedly the best place to run. Free from the nuisance of cars and dogs, the golf course would be a runner's paradise if it weren't for the presence of the golfers.

Dis-hallowed hall

Most disgusting disregard for tradition: Wentworth Hall, at the north end of Dartmouth Row, is part of everyone's "gleaming, dreaming" memories. But as one enters Wentworth, a mammoth Coke machine all but assaults you, taking up most of the small first-floor lobby. To add insult to injury, the machine eats quarters.

Bearing up

In the Vermont foothills, a mere 20-minute drive from campus, Union Village Dam's sylvan setting and many sheltered coves provide the ideal backdrop to the natural scenery show — student skinny-dipping. But beware: The spring-fed water is cold. All over.

Cheeriest fuzz

The biggest smile on campus belongs to Shirley Colby in the Campus Police Department, which is nice when there's a parking violation to take care of. She's Proctor Robert McEwan's secretary, and she has been with the Campus Police for seven years, guarding the front desk, answering the phone and dispatching officers. She claims never to forget a face or a name. "You put my picture in the ALUMNI MAGAZINE," she warned, "and you're going to have some parking tickets."

Violins, please

When you really want to set the mood for an enchanted evening, a stroll around the campus is fine. But a detour into Bartlett Tower is even better. Built in memory of President Samuel Colcord Bartlett (who almost was impeached by the alumni), the tower is dark and cozy, and is accessible only by a winding wooden staircase. It leaves you breathless. The only drawback is that the tower is almost always locked.

Mating rating

Conceived by some lonely computer jock on a precoeducation Saturday night, the computer program DATE*** was designed to 1) give the Dartmouth man a new and different way to spend time with a lady friend and 2) show off the gleaming Kiewit Computation Center. Accessible by typing DATE*** into any DTSS terminal, the program rates the young lady's intellectual and artistic potential, sex-drive, and personal appearance on the basis of her answers to some very frank questions — to which the computer even has some snappy retorts.

Jumbo appetite

Sidewalk superintendents stand enthralled by the leaf-sucker-upper, a suction-powered affair that resembles an elephant's trunk and is attached to one of the College dump trucks. A worker leads the truck by the nose, as it were, and the machine inhales great quantities of leaves. The machine we'd most like to operate, however, is the miniature armored half-track, called a Bombardier, that plows and sands the town's sidewalks.

Room at the top

404 Lord is easily one of the plushest student penthouses north of Boston. Not only has a previous occupant fixed it up with barnboard paneling and a magazine rack in the private bathroom, but in the summer this three-room suite turns into a double. The cost? A cool $345 per term. Runner-up: 407 Mass. This triple with bath features slanted roof, round window, and a stellar view of "stoopers" and "cruisers" on Mass Row.

Toast the host

Professors have "slush funds" for entertaining students each term, but Lawrence Harvey, Edward Tuck Professor of French and Italian, never worries about the cost. He regularly invites for small dinners not only his current students (40 in Italian 1 last spring) but former students, prospective students, and sometimes even their families if they are in town. "It's such a pleasure for us," he says, and his students would agree. Mrs. Harvey's home-grown Italian cooking is unrivaled this side of Siena, and the Harvey wine cellar seems inexhaustible.

Wanted: genius

The season's brashest job offer went to a senior who answered a blind ad in the employment office calling for persons with "genius I.Q." He was flown out to California, and promised a six-figure income his first year. Did he want to be a commodities trader? No.

Lowest depth

Professor Jeffrey Hart's comment on a student paper: "Is English your native language?" (English 66, The Age of Johnson, spring 1977.)

If the space fits...

Nothing, not even tenure wrangles or outdoor sculpture, can stir up a frenzy at Dartmouth the way parking (or lack of it) can. The best space, only occasionally invaded by traveling salesmen, is reserved for the man who runs the place.

Tribal write

Best departmental secretary? This one was hard because there are so many, but Anthropology's Mary Wesbrook deserves the designation as much as anyone. Besides typing, filing, and correcting professorial spelling errors, her specialties are ice-hockey and keeping tabs on alumni. She rarely misses seeing "her boys" in action at Thompson Arena, and she has files on graduated anthropology majors that rival the dossiers compiled by Nancy Elliott's operatives in the Alumni Records Office. She also edits a rival publication, DartmouthAnthropology Notes, frequently plagiarized by class secretaries.

The tops

The ultimate combination of business and pleasure, or working your way through school doesn't have to be a drag. Each winter the intramural office hires referees for one of the world's greatest spectator sports: women's inner-tube water polo. Since no one really understands the game, all the refs do is stand around and watch.

Convenient culture

A lunch hour is all it takes to hear some of the world's great music performed by Dartmouth professors, students, and local residents. These concerts happen weekly, are free, and last no more than an hour — in case you are the fidgety type. The 12:30 Concerts are held in the recital rooms of Hopkins Center.

More room at the top

With only eight tenured professors in a 34-member department, Romance Languages is, in the words of a senior member, "terribly undertenured." The competition is fierce: 26 folks to beat out.

A quiet place

Assuming that you have cleared that almost insurmountable first hurdle (finding someone to tryst with), the appropriate place is easy to find. Many prefer the solitude, verdant beauty, and proximity of the College cemetery. No one gossips there, either.

Mr. Clean

Ken Small, in his own way, is every bit as thorough as the fund-raisers he cleans up after. He's been the custodian of Crosby Hall for six years, and there isn't much he misses. He polishes doorknobs and the brass plates behind light switches and puts a high gloss on the basement floor. Ken does such a good job, in fact, that B & G gave him another job and only lets him spend an hour a day in Crosby. And in exchange for all this loving care, the College is going to raise a cloud of dust modernizing Ken's building.

Rage! blow!

Most dramatic performance in the classroom: King Lear is a grim play. Peter Saccio is both a Shakespearean scholar and a fine actor. The play and the professor come together in English 60, leaving upwards of 90 undergraduates stunned, thinking of the possibility of the next life instead of the next class. Not recommended for those with a family history of depression.

Best deal

Thayer Hall, Dartmouth's very own dining-hall-cum- eating-contest, charges $1.85 for breakfast. For this small sum one gets fresh fruit, cereal, juice, toast, doughnuts, coffee, jam, jelly, granola, eggs, pancakes, sausage, and other assorted delights. The limit of one's gluttony is the only restriction on how much food can be had. That, and concern for "Thayer Layer."

Park here

Probably the most strategic tailgating location is the corner of Wheelock and Crosby streets, next to Topliff Hall. Wide open space, free music from Topliff stereos, a short walk to the stadium, and a fresh-cider vendor right around the corner. Runner-up: next to Sphinx, where the company is plentiful and the only disadvantage is an occasional drop of pine sap in your bourbon-and-cider.

Quarter pour

In Dartmouth's closest approximation to the Good Life, every weekday afternoon students and faculty put aside their books and converge on Sanborn House Library, where fine English tea is served in china cups from 4:00 to 5:00. There are top-notch cookies, too, but the resident professors consume most of the favorites before the official opening. A mere quarter is sufficient to buy one's way into this elegance, though science students occasionally are snubbed in this bastion of the humanities.

Closed stack

Among other great treasures, Baker Library has the three volumes of J. J. Audubon's Birds of America owned by Daniel Webster. Baker would have the entire set if Webster had been better about paying his bills. Poor Audubon had to dun the Great Man for years. The volumes weigh 25 pounds each and do not circulate.

Down to earth

The license plates on the Kemeny cars, a blue Fiat and a yellow Jeep, read BASIC (his) and LOGIC (hers) — after the computer languages. Some observers say it could be the other way around.

A tribute to Mad Dog

Was Richard III guilty? Charlie Wood will talk about it.

The Mud Bowl is good, clean fun. Ask Butterfield Hall.

This picture will get us in trouble with Shirley Colby.

The golf course is a runner's paradise—almost.

Mary Wesbrook, with some team pictures of "her boys."

Ken Small secretly advised us to evacuate Crosby Hall.