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Sunday, January 22nd, 2006 06:34 pmJust when I thought it would never happen again, I get mistaken for a student by one of the maintenance staff. I pop out of the room where we're meeting and wander around, and this guy (using the Turkish familiar form reserved for close friends and people much younger than you) asks "You looking for one of the teachers?".
I think this is less a comment on my boyish good looks as an example of how the mind picks out significant details and fills in the rest from a stock of prototypes. He sees the leather jacket and the pony tail, and the "student" prototype fills in the rest of the picture, so he doesn't notice the grey hairs and wrinkles.
I think this is less a comment on my boyish good looks as an example of how the mind picks out significant details and fills in the rest from a stock of prototypes. He sees the leather jacket and the pony tail, and the "student" prototype fills in the rest of the picture, so he doesn't notice the grey hairs and wrinkles.
