I was standing in front of my office one day when a colleague from another department ambled.up. He's squat and strong and looks not so much like a professor as a woodchopper, with thick forearms like a pair of rolling pins, and hairy hands that are usually half-clenched. He.exudes an enviable vitality; you have a feeling that he might live 120 years."How are you?" I asked. And he told me-for 10 minutes running.He informdd me in detail about his.children's doings, his summer vacation, his ever-improving tennis.game, and his,multiple lecture engagements for the upcoming term. He spoke quickly and,with a sense of dignity, as though this was a public occasion,as if he was being interviewed by a television reporter and was often so interviewed;he took answering the question about his well-being as a slightly arduous duty, but one that, owing to his stature,he was compelled to fulfill in a comprehensive way. When he finished his disquisition, he grunted, turned his back, and lumbered off down the corridor."Nice talking.with you," I said. He faced me once more. "You're welcome," he said. He turned again and was on his way.