I read the HPSG book when I was 20. I was utterly enchanted by it. “Ivan Sag” was a big name in shining lights then, and Stanford was a supremely cool and magical faraway place.

Fast forward: Ivan Sag turns out to be an extremely nice guy with a Hammond organ and a bunch of band equipment LITERALLY in his GARAGE, and that’s where we meet for band practice. Ivan introduces me to Linda Ronstadt, and I kind of learn how to improvise and be in a rock and roll band.

Then Ivan Sag generously agrees to supervise my dissertation, and supports me happily and open-mindedly through my twists and bends as I finally start to find myself. Makes a profound and lasting difference on my life. Also teaches me to horizontally align asterisks properly and avoid having too much whitespace after periods in LaTeX.

And now I’m halfway across the world discovering new things and missing being able to bounce ideas off of Ivan. I really really wish I could have come to the IvanFest. (I had tickets booked but then was forced to cancel despite great sadness about it.) But I virtually raise my glass in honor of Ivan, hero of my linguistic youth, band-mate, advisor, friend, and inspiration!

Egészségedre!  (whole-ness-poss.2sg-to; `to your health’ backwards)

Liz