W&L Faculty Cribs: Eduardo Velásquez
XaK Bausch and Kaylee Hartung
Issue date: 5/11/05 Section: Distractions
The home of politics professor Eduardo Velásquez is third in our ongoing series, Faculty Cribs.
At the end of the day, Eduardo Velásquez does not go home. He vanishes into a blue mist and drifts away on an ethereal current of air towards another dimension of space and time. He does not concern himself with pedestrian matters like the need for food and shelter. Rather, he spends his free time as a non-corporal entity that ponders the deeper meaning of existence, morality and adult alternative pop music. No man should be able to see Eduardo Velásquez outside of the C-School without a prescription from Timothy Leary. Or at least that's what I thought. It turns out that he does live in a house, and after deliberation with his wife, he agreed to let us profile it.
But I am not comfortable profiling the home of Professor Velásquez, Associate Professor of Politics. I do not feel like I am qualified. I should turn the assignment over to Barbara Walters or Martin Bashir. This story ranks up there with any personality profile I could imagine. For me, it's more interesting than any piece on Bobby Fischer, JD Salinger or Howard Hughes circa 1970. They are all just eccentric hermits. Eduardo Velásquez is an eidos.
Exterior
Nestled inconspicuously amidst rows of secluding trees is a soft yellow house whose form manages to suggest symmetry without actually achieving it. Velásquez and his family have called it home since June of 1999.
Cut through the center of the lawn is a wide dirt path were some kind of walkway used to welcome visitors. I imagine once this pathway grows back and the lawn resumes its form any traces of external hospitality will be lost. The house will appear vaguely as an island of concrete and wood in a sea of grass. Velásquez says that his family prefers it that way, "We tend not to use or answer the front door in order not to run the risk that our neighbors might think we are friendly."
At the end of the day, Eduardo Velásquez does not go home. He vanishes into a blue mist and drifts away on an ethereal current of air towards another dimension of space and time. He does not concern himself with pedestrian matters like the need for food and shelter. Rather, he spends his free time as a non-corporal entity that ponders the deeper meaning of existence, morality and adult alternative pop music. No man should be able to see Eduardo Velásquez outside of the C-School without a prescription from Timothy Leary. Or at least that's what I thought. It turns out that he does live in a house, and after deliberation with his wife, he agreed to let us profile it.
But I am not comfortable profiling the home of Professor Velásquez, Associate Professor of Politics. I do not feel like I am qualified. I should turn the assignment over to Barbara Walters or Martin Bashir. This story ranks up there with any personality profile I could imagine. For me, it's more interesting than any piece on Bobby Fischer, JD Salinger or Howard Hughes circa 1970. They are all just eccentric hermits. Eduardo Velásquez is an eidos.
Exterior
Nestled inconspicuously amidst rows of secluding trees is a soft yellow house whose form manages to suggest symmetry without actually achieving it. Velásquez and his family have called it home since June of 1999.
Cut through the center of the lawn is a wide dirt path were some kind of walkway used to welcome visitors. I imagine once this pathway grows back and the lawn resumes its form any traces of external hospitality will be lost. The house will appear vaguely as an island of concrete and wood in a sea of grass. Velásquez says that his family prefers it that way, "We tend not to use or answer the front door in order not to run the risk that our neighbors might think we are friendly."