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You got a spring freshet of information as I told you everything I could think of about the two nights, four classes, you're going to teach for me next week You've been trained in the field of teaching English as a foreign language, do already teach kids and professionals, have your own repertoire of lessons and moves. I needn't have quite as agitated or enthusiastic as I was going over the details of my practices and procedures.

I felt like a parent prepping a baby's first sitter, while you, attentive and professional, calmed with assurances: everything will be fine.

Enthusiasm is a conversation quencher. More than once I've let myself go on some topic on my mind, put the lights behind my eyes onto high beam, animated my face and my hands, turned up the tempo of my ever more vehement, ever more figurative speech, and see my interlocutors wilt and withdraw under the blast.They've no questions; hardly respond at all and move on as soon as possible. I, upon cooling down, feel exposed and awkward.

Curb your enthusiasm is the unspoken working principle of most social gatherings. It works like the picadores in bullfights do to keep the bull's head down. It keeps parties fluid and light but unmemorable but sometimes I want to roar, and toss my head around.

Enthusiasm was there, in spades, in our colleague saying goodbye before shoving off for painting career in Barcelona. In retropect, perhaps, it was there, under control of course, in you and maybe I've misread the enounter. Your questions were pointed; you started to relate what I want to what you do; you began to formulate your own plans.

All I want is for these classes to maintain whatever momentum I will have given them by that point, and I can see that you'll do that. Your thoughts or feelings haven't been as voluble as mine but the disciplined ambition of the good workman is clearly in you. My classes are in good hands. After all my heat, you'll coolly go ahead. Good for me.