Dear Ivan,

You told me so.

One day, as a 1st or 2nd year student, I remember complaining to you about my Semantics I class and wondering aloud if I could get out of taking Semantics II. You said that that was absolutely a bad idea. Even if what I wanted to do was syntax, I still had to be conversant in semantics, so that when I saw a problem “coming down the pike” I could tell whether it was a syntactic problem or a semantic problem. I had a vivid image of linguistic problems making their way towards me on some sort of aqueduct—an intimidating thought! I took your advice then, and now I realize that almost every problem I work on is also a semantic problem, at least in the sense that in order to add an analysis to an implemented grammar I have to first pin down the desired semantic representation.

A couple of years later, you suggested to me by way of advice that I should really consider going into computational linguistics. You said that the job market was better in that field and that you thought I was well-suited for it. At the time I took computational linguistics to be solely concerned with dry (to me) research such as parsing algorithms and said, “That’s not for me!” After several years of trying to get a tenure track position in either syntax or sociolinguistics, I found a job in industry doing grammar engineering, on the strength of the work I had done for you as an RA on the LinGO project, and from there a faculty position in computational linguistics.

I’m sure there are other cases too, but these two stand out to me: Ivan, not only can you say “I told you so,” but I’m glad of it!

Emily

Dear Ivan,

We go back a long way, you and I. We graduated about the same time
and for a while we were competing for the same jobs, never to my
advantage I seem to remember. There are many memories I have
stretching over the period from the mid-seventies to the present.

A couple of them involve your garage. One of them we have talked
about before and you, graciously, claim to have forgotten it. There
was a time when you had a keyboard in your garage and you needed a
keyboard player (for Dead Tongues, I guess). “You just have to play
the chords,” you said when I protested that this kind of music was
beyond me, and you presented me with a written chord-sequence. But when I
played the chords it sounded (sort of) like Mozart complete with
Alberti base. “You have to get the rhythm too,” you said. I tried
again, and again, and the more I tried the more like Mozart it
sounded. In the end we both agreed that I could not play this kind of
music. Later we were discussing this with dinner guests and you said
with genuine respect, “Robin is a classically trained pianist”, as if
that would explain my failure. You’re a kind man, Ivan.

The other garage memory comes from the period when Elisabet and I used
to spend time periodically in Stanford and needed somewhere to store
domestic bits and pieces between visits. A corner of your garage was
offered for the purpose. “I call it my Cooper Store,” you said. Not
only kind, but funny.

Then, of course, there was the long lasting bottle of Pimm’s which you
would bring out if (and, for all I know, only if) I visited. It’s
long gone now and neither of us can drink it any more, but the memory
is still sweet.

Another memory is from a discussion we had at, I think, an LSA summer
school. You were presenting some complex analysis (I forget of what),
too fast for me to follow. “Let’s take it one step at a time,” I
said. “I love this,” you said, rejoicing at my slowness. “No really,
it’s great to get down to the details.” Generous, you are too.

Intellectually, we have in common the heady days of the eighties and
the somewhat befuddled perception that HPSG and situation semantics
(among a number of other things) were both following a
“constraint-based” or “Bay Area” approach. I’ve been thinking a bit
over recent years what we meant by that. And the more I think, the
more I come to understand the depth and importance of your work on
grammar and how much it is influencing my own current work on type
theory and records. It opens up an approach to grammar that is so
much more related to what people actually seem to do when they talk to
each other than many other approaches to grammar. Thanks, Ivan. I
really feel like I’m beginning to understand.

Now if I could just get the swing of those chords, I’d be all set.

Robin

Your awe-inspiring work
found me intimidated
As did the clever theories
you had created

But gregarious and relaxed as you are
It was a feeling one could only maintain from afar

Wearing open toed sandals and shorts from Bermuda
You could always be found
In your office at Cordura

Ever at home
in a unification matrix
Always on the lookout for that well motivated fix
(that also predicts)
you always convey insight and rigor in the right mix.

We’ve shared many a birthday,
the occasional frat house,
a love for Grammar from the Bay Area
And a cherished good grouse.

You’re a great man, Ivan,
A maven, a shaman, and a heaven-sent spokesman
I’m no poet and now we all know it, but
To one who holds you most dear,
a soppy poem seemed somehow appropriate.

Congratulations Ivan, for forty years of outstanding contributions to the field. May many more years of contributions ensue, in good health and great company. But let me make this a bit more precise:

Thank you also for your generosity and you friendship (these have utterly transformed my life, have no doubt about it). Don’t forget: you are invited to visit us at Buffalo any time you want, and to crash the new crib… 😉