Columbia University was founded in 1754 in New York City. Since that time the school has produced 4 U.S. presidents, 15 Heads of foreign countries, 94 Nobel Prize winners, 101 Pulitzer Prize winners, and 1 undersized capitalist named Alexander Hamilton. In the spirit of undersized overachievers, I brought my children along.
Unlike other Ivies, Columbia is deep in the heart of urban hustle and bustle. Its gilded towers of ivory are well overshadowed by towers of glass and steel. Because of this, it is easy to forget the schools pre Revolution past, or better yet, it is easy to forget the school all together. To help remedy this, the school was sure to have a stop on the red line named after it, along with the number they felt best describes the schools appropriate ranking.
Nobels and Pulitzers are what any child should aspire to and fortunately the Columbia Bookstore is on board with early recruiting efforts.
Now lest one get the idea that this school is a mere blip on Gotham’s radar, it does possess all the architectural grandeur and flourishes of ironwork that all its peers posses.
Despite all this, the school is still not the tourist attraction that that other school up north in Beentown is. Maybe it’s because right next door is this:
Now perhaps I jest too much. It’s in my nature, a native cheery temperment, but this school is in fact not a joke. I know it’s not a joke by the price of both the schools parking and its parking tickets. In the name of sustainability the institution is stamping out both cars and tourists.
What it isn’t stamping out is what a true education should be. I know this not because I attended, but by this illustrative gem I found.
Not only is the Columbia man a natty dresser, but anyone associated with a true gentleman’s game would easily recognize the passing form of the athlete depicted directly to the right of the young man.
Yes, it always comes back to that.