Anyone who’s ever gone skiing and didn’t break an ankle because the ski binding automatically detached from the boot can thank Dan Mote.
Why? Because he invented it. Yes, our university President Dan Mote.
There’s lots of things we know about Mote. He hails from the University of California, Berkeley, boasting 31 years as a professor there. He promises to shake every student’s hand at least once a year, as long as “they let him,” he says, but it’s more than likely he doesn’t.
And there’s lots of things we don’t know.
Like the fact that he passes up coffee and chooses ginseng tea instead. But not just any kind of ginseng tea — he likes the Korean tea because it’s stronger. He can’t drink too much of it, though, because it’s too powerful in big doses.
Or that he never eats lunch on normal workdays. So whenever there’s a luncheon he must attend, like the Celebration of Scholarships April 13, it’s a treat for him to get a nice, free lunch.
And he chomps it down.
He takes hearty bites of his salmon nicoise salad, occasionally talking with his mouth full. But he barely touches his dark chocolate Terrapin turtle, eating only the chocolate mousse filling.
After six years as university president, few know Mote the man. We see him giving speeches at public events and cringe slightly as we listen to one of his quirky jokes. I got to spend the day with Mote on April 13. While it was filled with mostly public events, I still got a sense of what it’s like being Mote for a day.
He arrives in his office about 8:30 a.m., rushing inside without a morning greeting to the women who work in his office, and immediately goes to his computer, which blinks “Go Terps” on his screensaver. Publicly, Mote is very sociable, extending his hand to strangers and colleagues, but in the office, it’s all business.
He responds to the 100 to 200 e-mails he receives each day during any downtime he gets, which isn’t much. The office is so quiet the only thing you can hear is the soft hum of the computer or the tapping of the keyboard. He doesn’t really talk to anyone in the office.
He keeps his L-shaped desk in his corner office in the Main Administration Building clear of paperwork. He has two grown children and four grandchildren, but you wouldn’t be able to tell from his office — there are no framed pictures of them anywhere.
It’s surprising he has no pictures of his cocker spaniel, Charlie. Mote loves Charlie. He says he doesn’t understand religion because he doesn’t see how dogs aren’t allowed in heaven, especially someone as good-hearted and lovable as Charlie.
He has a framed comic from The (Baltimore) Sun of other university mascots yelling at a tiny Testudo with a small talk bubble that says, “Fear the Turtle.” He liked that comic so much he asked the former editor if he could have the original — white-out marks and all.
Mote has three bookshelves full of books with titles such as Fluid Mechanics and stacks of graduate student dissertations on engineering, but he doesn’t read them anymore because he doesn’t have time.
He keeps a copy of his daily schedule on a folded-up piece of paper in the left inner pocket of his suit jacket. “I’m like a piece of furniture, getting moved around from here to there,” he said.
As he walks around the campus, dressed in a dark grayish-blue suit with worn brown loafers, some students stare from afar — Mote isn’t seen around too often. Some students stop and shake his hand, but others who are too shy look down or just nod and say hello.
Mote runs on about six and a half hours of sleep each night. He says the key to surviving is to not get tired and to never look tired. He usually gets home between 7 and 8:30 p.m. He and his wife Patsy try to schedule at least one night a week with each other.
He doesn’t rest on weekends. The only time Mote and his wife get away is during their annual sailing trip in January, when they go some place warm, usually in the Caribbean or the South Pacific.
Mote turned 67 in February. He never said how long he plans on staying with the university but said he wants to leave at the peak of his game. “You always want to leave before the party’s over,” he said.
I’m certainly not an expert on Mote the man, but take him up on that Adele’s lunch offer next semester or let him sit with you at South Campus Dining Hall and see for yourself. Listen to him talk about Charlie and his snow-skiing mechanics days or just watch the way he eats his lunch. He really chomps it down.
Laurie Au is a Diamondback staff writer. She can be reached at laurieau@umd.edu.
