The Last Lecture

The Last Lecture
When my father got home after work, he listened to the story and
burst into a smile. He wasn’t going to punish Tammy. He did everything
but congratulate her! I was a kid who needed to have his lunch box
dropped in a puddle. Tammy was relieved, and I’d been put in my
place…though the lesson didn’t completely sink in.
By the time I got to Brown University, I had certain abilities and
people knew I knew it. My good friend Scott Sherman, whom I met
freshman year, now recalls me as “having a total lack of tact, and being
universally acclaimed as the person quickest to offend someone he had
just met.”
I usually didn’t notice how I was coming off, in part because
things seemed to be working out and I was succeeding academically.
Andy van Dam, the school’s legendary computer science professor,
made me his teaching assistant. “Andy van Demand,” as he was known,
liked me. I was impassioned about so many things—a good trait. But like
many people, I had strengths that were also flaws. In Andy’s view, I was
self-possessed to a fault, I was way too brash and I was an inflexible
contrarian, always spouting opinions.
One day Andy took me for a walk. He put his arm around my
shoulders and said, “Randy, it’s such a shame that people perceive you as
being so arrogant, because it’s going to limit what you’re going to be able
to accomplish in life.”
“Andy van Demand,” at Brown University
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