My little story about computer science and school and all that jazz reminded me of a little anecdote. My sophomore year in high school, I had calculus I and II with Mr. Beckmann, a very strange old man. He would frequently leave the room in the middle of a sentence, and then leave for five minutes. When he would come back, he would resume right in the sentence where he left off. It was surreal. But that's not the story. The story was that everyone hated him... we just couldn't stand him. But there was one good thing: he was retiring that year. On the last day of classes before finals, he brought in a retirement cake. I think I was in his sixth period class, his last class for the day. Nobody had touched the cake. He kept offering cake to the students, but nobody would take any. I kinda feel bad for the guy; I mean, he had to have known that nobody liked him, but apparently people hated him so much that they thought he was going to poison them with his own retirement cake.
On an unrelated note, in that class I always sat with Julie Dunbar, the daughter of one Dr. Steve Dunbar, which may prompt a couple of you to comment about how this is such a small world after all.
[Note: Originally, I had thought that his name was Mr. Bateman, but Andy corrected me in the comments.]