Bruce Miller Uncut

It’s seven-thirty on a stormy Wednesday night, more than an hour before Taylor’s starts serving dollar micros. I should be at home watching the Magic play the Suns on TNT; instead I’m sitting in a student senate meeting, bored as hell, waiting for the whole thing to get over with. I scan the room. Senate President Peter O. Watts is stoically trying to bring the meeting to some semblance of order. “Tex” is leaning so far back in his chair, he’s practically on the floor. Dominique keeps looking over at me as if we were sharing some sort of inside joke. We’re not. Then I glance to my right. There is Bruce Miller frantically scribbling something down in his note pad. That’s when I knew the subject of the next OC feature had to be the most talked about, most misunderstood figure in student government.

I wished I could leap into Bruce’s head like the characters in “Being John Malkovich.” What does the world look like through those eyes? What unique thoughts shoot through his cerebral cortex? Is he as sickened by these morally hollow glory-seekers as I am? No, probably not. Bruce has always admired students who took the time to involve themselves in student government. The student senators around this room have taken time out of their class schedule to involve themselves in a system that few outside of under-funded student groups care about. I know Bruce respects this dedication and admires their character. Personally, I can’t help but feel that most of them are just here for resume fodder.

“If I had any advice to my nieces and nephews,” Bruce told me, “it would be to get involved in student government. Get involved beyond just taking classes. Just being an average student who really isn't involved can be a handicap in getting the full benefits of education.”

Maybe he’s right, but the debate going on in front of me over whether or not incidental fees should fund a traveling UO float is more than I can take. I pull Bruce Miller out of the senate meeting and lead him out into the hallway. I’ve got to take a few pictures of him for the article, and I can’t bear to wait till the meeting ends.

“Just a few quick shots,” I tell him as he backs up against a wall obligingly.

Bruce Miller carries himself with a stalwart dignity. He’s almost sixty years old, but he’s as spry as ever. Today he’s wearing a red and black checkered jacket, nice pants and respectable shoes. He stands at about six feet tall, give or take an inch. The top of his head is distinguished by a shining baldness. His eyes dart back and forth underneath his prominent glasses.

Those on campus who have dealt with Bruce think of him as a bit of an eccentric, but well-meaning.

“Bruce causes more trouble than any incidental fee paying student,” says ASUO Vice President Joy Nair.

Bruce expresses his dissatisfaction in long hand-written manifestos he happily hands out to anyone who talks to him. His writing is filled with criticism of the ASUO, and suggestions for policies that may help students. Talking to Bruce, you realize that his concern is sincere. Some may question his mental health, but his resolve is unrelenting.

Most people, myself included, have always wondered how it is this kooky old guy came to be such a fixture at the University.

Bruce Miller came to Eugene in 1998, working part time for Lazar’s Bazar and Shoeaholic, both operated by Mr. and Mrs. Lazar. He says he became involved in student senate meetings to find out about the merchants at the street fair and in the EMU who were possible competition to Mr. Lazar’s businesses.

“I’ve done this strictly on my own,’ he says. “I want to emphasize that Mr. Lazar has never sent me out here. I do this on my own spare time. It’s what I call exceeding expectations, being a person that goes above and beyond the call of duty to see what’s going on.”

Bruce’s college career was fairly uneventful. He got a BA in Economics from the University of Washington in 1963, working on the side to fund his schooling. He later went to law school at Washington and Lee University in Lexington, Virginia. He describes it as an elite school for “southern gentlemen,” but it wasn’t a good fit for him.

He dropped out after a year because of poor grades. During the Vietnam War, he worked in an Army ammunition program for three years, taking classes on the side at Northern Illinois University. Though he never got another degree, he gained a good deal of work experience.

I ask him about his college days. I’m curious what a young Bruce Miller was like during the wild sixties. “I was in a Jewish fraternity,” he says. “There was drinking, partying, a few scandalous things. I observed it. I was kind of a nerd.”

He wishes he could have had the ambition then to involve himself in student politics, but he was “psychologically unprepared.” Bruce describes that era as being a very different atmosphere for campus politics. Student government was an important social status, the realm of frat guys with Greek letters on their white jackets. Today, Bruce admires the diversity of people on student senate. “If you have a moderate amount of ambition,” he says, “there is so much apathy on campus you can easily get involved in things.”

Bruce feels that the student senate doesn’t do enough to publicize themselves to the students. He’d like to see them put notices in the Emerald when positions become available, and move their meetings to a more public forum. But all in all, he thinks most of the Senators are fairly competent.

“Peter Watts,” he says slowly, dramatically letting the name linger in the air “is organized. He’ll carry on a two-way conversation. He’s an approachable, pleasant person. I think he has made these meetings more efficient.”

Bruce Miller certainly has a healthy respect for the Student Senate, and in the past, he has had a good relationship with the ASUO. He is especially fond of Wylie Chen, the ASUO president back in 1998-1999, who Bruce describes as a “role model.” His relationship with last year’s executive Jay Breslow was also built upon mutual respect. But, he hasn’t gotten off on such a good foot with Nilda Brooklyn and Joy Nair. He came to them this summer to discuss the issue of off-campus housing, having done research on the problem by examining policies in place at Oregon State University and attending city council meetings. When he walked into Suite One, he says he saw “interns playing video games, lounging around talking,” and noticeably getting very little accomplished. Bruce was upset, and spoke his mind to the interns in the room.

When Bruce finally caught up with Nilda, she was upset over the incident. Bruce says she told him, “my interns can have fun, I don’t want to stress them out. If they want spend time having fun, relaxing, playing video games, having fun, that’s fine.”

Bruce couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He asked her what duties they were supposed to be fulfilling. She said it was “none-of-your-business,” and told him she couldn’t possibly find room in her schedule to speak to him for another two weeks.

When Bruce came back two weeks later, Nilda cut his scheduled half-hour down to twenty minutes. Furthermore, Bruce says she dismissed him by saying that she didn’t even have to give him any time because “you’re not a student or an alumnus, you’re an older person.”

The wholeincident made Bruce question the accountability of the two executives.

“Does [Brooklyn] have a diary or book that shows what she's doing? What's her plan when she comes in her office? She put me off for two and half weeks and said she had a solid block of things scheduled. What was she doing?”

He no longer feels as though he can go to the ASUO office and have a good talk. “If [Nilda] was a friendlier kind of person, I'd love to talk to her. But she has a negative attitude towards me, and unless it was life or death I don't think she would help me. I think she has people from her MCC days helping her and those are the people she wants to spend her time with. She should be extending herself.”

In fact, Bruce feels the exclusivity of their office is a major problem. “You worry about cliques and friends. Instead of getting a lot of applicants [for positions available], you just tell your friends about it. I have seen it in the past years. In Lane County politics you see the same thing. It's a scheme. There are pre-picked men and women who get positions with little or no publicity. Not a good precedent.”

Bruce carefully followed the ASUO elections last year, and he remembers a promise Joy Nair made during the debates. “Miss Nair specifically said that she wanted to bring student government to the students. ‘Maybe I'll set up a big table next to the bookstore,’ she said. I would like to ask her if getting as many students as possible in student government is still one of her goals. She should document how successful that has been.”

Bruce again references Wylie Chen as being an approachable executive. “Frankly, I don't think Wylie liked me that much. But he said, ‘Here's a Bruce Miller. He wants five minutes to talk to me. Let's get him in and get him out. Maybe he'll have something important to tell me.’”

Bruce obviously has strong feelings about student government, the city council, and people in positions of power. I decided to throw Bruce out some names and have him respond with the first thought that comes to his head. Bruce settles back in his sit and carefully ponders each name…

Jay Breslow Hard Worker
Peter Watts Polished
Joy Nair Shy
Nilda Brooklyn Rude
Wylie Chen Role Model
Dave Frohnmayer Underachiever
Jim Torrey Phony
Frog Good Man
Bret Jacobson Potential
ODE Erratic, inconsistent

People have dismissed Bruce Miller as a kook, a loony and a potentially dangerous stalker. This is nonsense. I tend to think of Bruce in more philosophical terms than his critics.

The University of Oregon has a pulse, an energy that bursts through the clouds and rain. During the fourth quarter of football games you can feel the energy charge the air. During a sunny spring day you can lay in the grass in front of the library and let the energy pour over you. Bruce Miller is a conduit of that energy, someone so overtaken by his concern for the University and its students that he puts the burden on himself to make it to every student senate meeting, every EMU board meeting, and every debate he can. It’s this energy that makes you glad to know Bruce Miller, glad to reach and shake his hand, glad to say “Thanks Bruce, thanks for being here."