Osler's Razor

Of my life as a whole, 38 years have been spent on the academic calendar, either as a student or as a teacher. That's a lot of years, and it means that by now the rhythm of my life is dictated by the start of school.

This was that week. I stood up before a class and introduced myself and explained what I was going to do-- what my purpose was, what I was there for. That's kind of a remarkable thing, isn't it? I love doing that, I love looking up and seeing the opportunity that I have.

When I was in elementary school, I had a little personal tradition. John R. Barnes Elementary had a little school store-- really just a closet with a half-door in the front-- where they sold a very limited number of school supplies. On that first day, at lunchtime I would buy one pencil (five cents) and a small pad of paper (also five cents). Somehow, that gave me great pride and satisfaction, to have bought those two things.

Even now, when I start the school year I feel this urge to buy a new pencil. It is that deep memory, I guess, that pattern of life, the kind of thing that tells the loon to call out to his mate and the skip over the water, take off, and fly south to a place very far away.