Murphree Hall rewind

On my way to work one morning, I ran into my old friend Herbert* in front of Murphree Hall, the dormitory in which we lived two decades ago. Wearing puffy denim shorts, black socks and brown sandals, he looked like the leader in a geek-pride parade carrying a baguette as if it were a baton. It wasn’t your typical French bread: This crusty creation sported a healthy tan as well as sesame, poppy and sunflower seeds. “I have to run to a meeting,” he said, passing me by without slowing down, as if walking on an airport horizontal escalator.

Seeing him gave rise to 20-year-old memories that baked in my head all day. On my way home, I stopped to admire the reopened Murphree Hall, which had just completed a $10 million renovation. Talk about an extreme makeover: Free of its asbestos tiles and boasting new central air-conditioning, upgraded bathrooms, white-frame windows and spiffy landscaping, my freshman residence suddenly looks like the Paris Hilton of dorms.

“It’s about time,” I thought.

Although I can be more nostalgic than a Spurrier-era alum, I’m all for improvement. That’s good, considering the changes sweeping Gainesville these days: Commercial and residential real estate is booming, UF is expanding, and the Gator Nation is gunning for greater success on the academic and athletic fields.

I’m even excited about Burrito Brothers moving. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll miss the landmark hole-in-the-wall setting on the northwest corner of University Avenue and 13th Street. It’s slated to be destroyed soon to make room for University Corners, a mixed-use project expected to be finished in two years. But I look forward to seeing our Mexican-food Mecca relocate to this $140 million development, where it finally will offer seating, beer and wine.

While University Corners rises, Burrito Brothers will serve its loyal customers at the nearby former Presbyterian and Disciples of Christ Student Center on University Avenue. For the restaurant’s faithful, this location makes perfect sense; and for the freshmen who have yet to double wrap, it sends the right message: This is a spiritual experience.

I’ll never forget my first time. My then soon-to-be-girlfriend and I took our brown bag back to my fourth-floor Murphree Hall room and ate primo pinto-bean and beef burritos as we listened to Bob Marley bellow “No Woman No Cry.”

Sophia* wanted a copy of my reggae tape. I only had a single-cassette player, but I heard that someone in our dorm was selling a double-deck recorder. “I have an idea,” I said. “Let’s go introduce ourselves.”

That’s how I met Herbert, who opened his door with a neon smile. He thought he got lucky when he saw my eager face. Basking in the glow of losing my Mexican food virginity, I must have looked like a real sucker.

I admit, when he demonstrated the elegant power of the stereo system, I felt so impressed, I nearly forgot my plan and reached for my student loan check. But I quickly got back on track.

“Can I test your recorder?” I asked after composing myself.

Herbert made dubbing look easy. Sophia gazed at us with admiration: I’m not sure whether she directed it at Herbert for being such a sound authority, at me for pulling off my trick, or at Bob Marley for providing college life’s eternal soundtrack.

As we walked back to my room, I gave the tape to Sophia and a thumbs up to Herbert.

Recounting this story, I feel a little guilty. Next time I see Herbert, I’ll ask him to break bread with me on one of Murphree Hall’s new picnic tables. That is, of course, as long as he brings a baguette.

*Sorry, we had to use anonymous sources.