Spring semester of my senior year of college, MIT’s Noam Chomsky, not only a brilliant political mind but also the father of modern linguistics (my field of study), decided to offer an undergraduate class. He had never done so before and he has never done so again. The class was open to students from other universities, so I decided to try it out. There were a dozen students there every Tuesday afternoon, listening to the man who had invented the field and who continued to be one of its chief innovators and pioneers. It was like hearing Darwin lecture, or Shakespeare. Every word out of his mouth was an epiphany.
But that was the semester I’d worked my schedule so that I only had class on Monday afternoon, so I had to drop the course.