I'm Major Jackson, and this is The Slowdown.

Very casually one evening, I commented on a shirt worn by a prominent professor,

saffron-colored, a beautiful kirta.

The passing exchange happened on a Friday at a dinner party.

My compliment was not memorable in the least.

I had forgotten about it as I passed them on the way to a charcuttery board.

That Monday, a department administrator emailed to say that Professor B had a package awaiting me in his office.

Several hours later, I was holding that very shirt in my hand, freshly dry-cleaned.

I was expecting a copy of his latest book. Shocked, I told the administrator that I could not.

He said, it would be offensive if you do not accept the gift.

We went back and forth.

I cannot take the shirt, I said.

While he talked, I thought of Professor B's generosity.

I thought about the huge symbolic gesture of a famed critic giving the shirt off his back to an aspiring poet.

In my community, growing up, we purchased items to earn the praise and envy of our friends.

If someone says a positive word about your gear, your car, your kicks, the mission accomplished.

Both parties went on their way.

As an adult, I have since learned to be careful of remarking positively on other people's items.

They might give them to you, something that would not happen in my youth.

My admiration for Professor B. is thorough. He possesses a formidable intellect. I feared I would have to

match his erudition and conversation each time I ran into him in the hallway.

Or worse, what if surrounded by colleagues I babbled on?

...