The guy I fear the most
There is one guy that I am afraid of. Really afraid.
I know him quite well and have known him for a long time. He is about my age, almost as tall as me, and has the same balding hair. If you see us next to each other, you would say that we were brothers.
Sometimes I watch him enter the room. He doesn't look at anybody. He is probably too preoccupied with whatever scientific questions are spinning in his head. I must admit that he is quite diligent and very organized. His papers are always ready for submission a day or more before the deadline and he has already published some really significant results.
Have you heard the joke about the two mathematicians? "How do you tell an extrovert mathematician from an introvert mathematician?" "When you talk to them, the introvert mathematician looks at his shoes, and the extrovert mathematician looks at your shoes." When you talk to this guy, he looks at his shoes. Actually, he rarely talks to people. When he does, he mainly talks about his research or the latest results in the area. But even then, he barely looks at your shoes.
He thinks that grooming is for wimps. He shaves irregularly and keeps his hair long to avoid the monthly trips to the barber shop. He wears the same clothes he was wearing in college, and buys a new pair of jeans only when the old ones have more holes than you can count on the fingers of both of your hands and one of the feet. He usually wears a sleeveless vest and a shirt, with the ubiquitous pen in the brest pocket. He doesn't wear pocket protectors, thank God. Sports, hobbies? None, unless you count chess, at which he is quite good.
And yet--I am afraid of him. I am not afraid of his muscles, or his height, or his voice. I am afraid of his smile. Sometimes, when I am grading exams or homeworks late at night, he sits in the shadow in the corner of the office and watches me with a smile in his eyes. When I am too busy to go with my friends to the movies, he is there with me, gloating. When I am talking to somebody about my research, he is there listening and nodding. And smiling.
In fact, he follows me everywhere, like a shadow. Sometimes I see him in the mirror in the morning when I am shaving. I see his reflection in rear-view mirror in the car. He is always around. And he always smiles when I do something that he would have done. He really likes that. This is what I am really afraid of. I am afraid of becoming so much like him that you wouldn't be able to tell the difference. I am afraid of becoming so involved with my work that I lose contact with the real world and the real people who do things that don't necessarily involve differential equations and Fast Fourier Transforms. I am afraid of becoming an expert in one area but at the expense of being ignorant in everything else.
In short, I am afraid of becoming boring.
I have been watching him for a long time and I can tell that he is a little afraid of me too, but he doesn't want to yield. It is a constant battle of two minds, and most likely it will continue for the rest of my life. This is a battle that I cannot win, so my only hope is not to lose. With some luck maybe I will avoid becoming like him. The sad part is that I probably wouldn't know until it is too late. But I will keep trying none the less.
His work has become his identity. I do not want the same to happen to me.
I know him quite well and have known him for a long time. He is about my age, almost as tall as me, and has the same balding hair. If you see us next to each other, you would say that we were brothers.
Sometimes I watch him enter the room. He doesn't look at anybody. He is probably too preoccupied with whatever scientific questions are spinning in his head. I must admit that he is quite diligent and very organized. His papers are always ready for submission a day or more before the deadline and he has already published some really significant results.
Have you heard the joke about the two mathematicians? "How do you tell an extrovert mathematician from an introvert mathematician?" "When you talk to them, the introvert mathematician looks at his shoes, and the extrovert mathematician looks at your shoes." When you talk to this guy, he looks at his shoes. Actually, he rarely talks to people. When he does, he mainly talks about his research or the latest results in the area. But even then, he barely looks at your shoes.
He thinks that grooming is for wimps. He shaves irregularly and keeps his hair long to avoid the monthly trips to the barber shop. He wears the same clothes he was wearing in college, and buys a new pair of jeans only when the old ones have more holes than you can count on the fingers of both of your hands and one of the feet. He usually wears a sleeveless vest and a shirt, with the ubiquitous pen in the brest pocket. He doesn't wear pocket protectors, thank God. Sports, hobbies? None, unless you count chess, at which he is quite good.
And yet--I am afraid of him. I am not afraid of his muscles, or his height, or his voice. I am afraid of his smile. Sometimes, when I am grading exams or homeworks late at night, he sits in the shadow in the corner of the office and watches me with a smile in his eyes. When I am too busy to go with my friends to the movies, he is there with me, gloating. When I am talking to somebody about my research, he is there listening and nodding. And smiling.
In fact, he follows me everywhere, like a shadow. Sometimes I see him in the mirror in the morning when I am shaving. I see his reflection in rear-view mirror in the car. He is always around. And he always smiles when I do something that he would have done. He really likes that. This is what I am really afraid of. I am afraid of becoming so much like him that you wouldn't be able to tell the difference. I am afraid of becoming so involved with my work that I lose contact with the real world and the real people who do things that don't necessarily involve differential equations and Fast Fourier Transforms. I am afraid of becoming an expert in one area but at the expense of being ignorant in everything else.
In short, I am afraid of becoming boring.
I have been watching him for a long time and I can tell that he is a little afraid of me too, but he doesn't want to yield. It is a constant battle of two minds, and most likely it will continue for the rest of my life. This is a battle that I cannot win, so my only hope is not to lose. With some luck maybe I will avoid becoming like him. The sad part is that I probably wouldn't know until it is too late. But I will keep trying none the less.
His work has become his identity. I do not want the same to happen to me.