I am tempted to declare him a sham, just to feel better

Fifteen years ago I met an enlightened master. He knew kung fu without being taught. He answered tough questions with a perfect few words. On Saturday afternoons, he would relax by mapping the genome of the horse-shoe crab and writing about it in whatever language he was learning that week. He made his living teaching calculus to CEOs, two hours a month, and he spent the rest of the time doing whatever.

He also had a heck of a bad temper. He was kind of punk rock.

When I met him he invited me to a class where he would concisely explain all the secrets of the universe in about half an hour. I wouldn't be able to do everything he could do after that class; it would take a few years of practice, but I'd have the information I have for it.

I wrote down the time wrong and missed his class. I never heard from him since then.

I just saw him on the freeway this afternoon. What do you do when you see an old friend on the highway? There's no way to stop and exchange numbers, so maybe you honk and wave but mostly you give them a call later or send them a note. What, then, when you see someone you never quite knew, and wish you could find again?

I honked and waved and tried to get his attention. He looked straight at me through our car windows; I don't know if he recognized me or now.

Then he flipped me off and drove on.

Ah well.