From Tabusintac to Tokyo | Page 8

no way that I was going to knowingly eat a kidney. Still, we
managed to choke some a fair portion of the meal, accompanied by four
bottles of the repulsive wine. I am convinced that McFish was cleaning
out the fridge and wine cellar before heading off on one of his annual
summer pilgrimages to wherever it is that expatriate Scotsmen go.
Shortly after dinner, Bugs begged leave to retire for the evening,
leaving us three to drink and converse. I discovered him face down on
the bed in his room. He told me that he had already vomited twice and
was feeling like death. I don't think it was the food that was bothering

him; he never had much of a head for alcohol.
I know it seems ungracious to complain about a free meal. But this is
only in retrospect. At the time, I was as polite and grateful as my
immature personality allowed me to be. I have dined out (so to speak)
on this incident over excellent dinners many times in the past twenty
years or so. It makes an excellent story. I have nothing to complain
about.
And I should be grateful that it wasn't worse. My younger brother, who
followed in my steps at Bridges, dined many times at McFish's. He had
sheep hearts one night for dinner.
P.S. In spite of the picture I have painted of McFish's frugal way with a
dollar, he was always a generous man with his time and vittles. I
remember that he cracked open a bottle of 35-year old wine and shared
it with undergrads whose age was half that of the wine. While the bottle
was only big enough so that we each got about two ounces, it was
certainly the best, smoothest vino that I had ever tasted.
Unlike many of his contemporaries and successors, McFish had a
vision for how affairs in our residence and university should be
arranged. While he might not have been right every time, and while he
had a tendency to drive his colleagues mad, he made his case fearlessly
and tirelessly.
He was an educator in the truest sense of the word; aside from his
duties as a professor, he worked diligently to broaden the horizons of
his charges even though we were too callow to see beyond the toes of
our sneakers.

How Coffee Led To My Education
In one of Robertson Davies' books, a British paper's obituary for the
main character reads in part, "…went to school in Canada, was
educated in Britain". The implication is that you can get your basics in
the Colonies, but by God, if you want a good education, you better

come to the Mother Country.
That does bring up a good point. When I went to university to take
engineering, I didn't really think about education; I was going to get a
degree that was going to get me a job doing something cool and nifty.
If you had asked me what an education was, I would have shrugged and
told you that's what I was currently getting.
In the 25 or so years since being ejected from UNB, sheepskin in my
hot little hand, I've had occasion to think about what an education looks
like and what it was I actually took away with me.
I realized that universities are not really about getting jobs in the cold,
cruel world. When I was working away at Electrical Engineering, I
took math, field theory, properties of materials, electric machines and a
whole bunch of other stuff that didn't stick in my head longer than it
took to write the exam.
(A couple of insights into the engineering world: Civil Engineering
students always seemed to have a lot of time on their hands as opposed
to us Electrical types. Then it occurred to me that, in CE there are just
two rules to remember: a) you can't push on a rope and b) if it moves,
it's broken. The amazing thing is not that a whole field of endeavour
can be summed up in two rules. No, the really amazing thing is that it
takes a Civil Engineer four years to learn them.
My second insight: Mechanical Engineers build weapons. Civil
Engineers build targets.)
When looking for my first job, I discovered that I was both over, and
under, qualified for any job I might land. Engineering curricula, as
developed by PhD's, many of whom have never had a job outside
university, tend to focus on technical skill development.
My point is this: you can get trained as an engineer in the many fine
universities here in Canada. You will not get any broader training in
dealing with your fellow man or woman. And what's really important if
you are going to work