By Michael Newman
When I went to the uni eons ago, I avoided a particular professor.
No, he was no sadist. He was a simple gentleman who had recently returned from America. I’m not against folks who had been to America. Oh, no. America is awesome. I avoided him because he’s close to my parents. They call him by his first name. We attend the same church and are from the same village. (Okay, hamlet. If the truth be told). I wanted my independence. You know all that closeness can be suffocating, at times. At 17 the last thing I desired was to be close to my parents’ friends!
I avoided him for almost two years, even though I knew he was looking for me. One Christmas, we were on vacation and I was in another state, in the home of a girl I had a huge crush on. The kind of girl that’s so gorgeous that I used to feel super-cool just being seen with her. She’s my image of the “perfect wife material.”
Why? She’s super-smart. I’d go to her when I have a challenge with math (and I was an A-student in Math, just so you know how smart she is). She looks like Maria Carey and she’s just naturally noble. Those rare types whose nobility is not a function of a book they have read, which they’re pretending they live. Hers is natural. And in spite of her captivating cognitive capacity, she radiated a delicate feminine aura.
So, the professor was about to leave her home. I was not even aware that he was visiting. He had heard someone call my name, and he peeked into the room where the girl and I were having a delectable meal, and he just repeated my name and stormed out. I knew I had to see him.
And, I did. He acted maturely. He’s an extremely taciturn Christian fundamentalist type. So, once in a while I’d go to the faculty of health sciences to see him. At a point, I stayed in his home for a while. An extremely quiet home. It felt as if no one lived there. Even though he and his family did.
I still recall the two books I saw on the table in the guest room. One cracked me up and I tossed it aside. I read the other. The one I read was on Jewish culture. It helped me tremendously to understand at a deeper level some of the stuff I’d read in the Bible.
The first book, the one I ignored, was on how to appreciate Classical music. With my young, arrogant and ignorant head filled with Rap, R and B, and Jazz, I felt: What kind of strange music is that? What kind of music do you need a book to appreciate?
Now, I know better.
It does not always have to be books. But, to truly understand and enjoy many facets of life there is an intense degree of engagement that one needs. The superficial soul who ignores this in-depth “research” short-changes itself. The main benefit of that intense engagement is not merely cerebral. It’s visceral.
It’s animating joy!
