The Hamlet Project

There are some who love to lecture – even when they do not know what they’re talking about. I read (an article) about this recently. The author found herself being lectured to about a subject that she’d written a definitive book about. In fact, the lecturer lectured her about her own book, unable to believe he might be talking to its author. It does tend to fall along gender lines, I suspect – if only because I cannot remember a lecture of this sort from any woman ever. But that could be my memory? Probably not.
But – as much as a patronizing lecture is intensely irritating, I will confess to loving a man who likes to explain things. If he were someone else, it might seem as though he were lecturing a bit – but somehow, in him, it doesn’t go quite that far. He got an explaining gene from his father (who does lecture, it must be acknowledged) and he enjoys giving that gene a little exercise. He gets a glint in his eye when an opportunity to explain something arises. I like to ask science questions. It’s like turning the key in a happy wind-up toy. I turn it and watch him go.