Why Genius And Power Tools Don't Mix
This professor--we'll just say his name is George--is renowned for his dreamy absent-mindedness. He actually forgot (and this I heard from several people) that he was a Protestant observer to Vatican II, and left his wife a hasty note on the kitchen table when his ride to the airport showed up: "Dear, Gone to Rome for Vatican Council. Will call soon."
Here's the story. One day George was outside his office when a student engaged him with a question on something, Bonaventure's Christology or the like. Midway through George's disquisition, the student notices that George's shoelaces are untied.
"Professor L-," says the student helpfully, "your laces are untied."
"What?" says George?
"Your laces, sir; they're lose."
George, still expounding on Bonaventure, sits down in the hall; sits down, as it was put to me, "on his butt, like a six year old," and starts fumbling with his laces, talking all the while.
This goes on for several minutes, until, suddenly, in the middle of a sentence, George looks down at his occupied hands holding the tangled laces. He stops talking and a look of consternation comes across his face.
He looks up at the student, then back at the laces. Then--get this--then he takes the untied laces, stuffs them into the cuff of his sock, stands up, and goes on talking.
They made George a dean.
Jorge Luis González
Last modified: July 5, 2001