Abstract

One of my favorite teachers crafted his lectures like a potter molding clay—not likely into a vase, but rather something more solid and utilitarian, yet still elegant, say, a fruit bowl. Vincent Genusa (Dr. G, we called him) was the only person I have ever known to use the word “prodigious” routinely, referring admiringly to a scientist, or perhaps to the applicability of a particular theoretical method, and he would say it with such relish that sometimes a bit of spittle would be evident, to put it delicately. It was impossible not to be swept up in his enthusiasm as he waxed eloquently about this twisty path to discovery or that sinewy bit of logic, and the fact that I have such vivid memories of his lectures decades later speaks to his artistry.

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