I met old Georgescu at a small economics conference in May 1985. Already in his eighties, he stole the show with his knowledge, charm, and wisdom. His Romanian accent and his peasant metaphors were especially endearing. He arrived to the conference in the evening and stayed over for another day. After an entertaining evening conversation with Georgescu, we eagerly expected him in the morning. I remember him entering the conference room around ten o’clock, an hour after the morning session had started. Our host’s wife escorted him. Everyone greeted the famous economist, delighted to see him again. He waived at us, smiled with cunning sweetness, and said in his frail falsetto: “It’s okay for me to be late, ’cause I have diabetes.” There was no end to our merriment.

Addendum I (May 6, 1995)

Whenever Georgescu wanted to say that an improvement was not fundamental in kind, he would refer to it as “turbo.” To wit, the rotary engine is better than the old internal-combustion engine using pistons, but the improvement is hardly a new departure in mechanical engineering, let alone physics or chemistry. It goes without saying that “turbo” was an intellectual insult in Georgescu’s opinion. By the end of the conference, it became one of our favorite concepts.

Addendum II (May 8, 1995)

Our host’s wife was an attractive woman just past her prime. In spite of her many children, the oldest of whom was about to leave home for college, she was fresh, vibrant, exciting. We hit it off immediately. As it was clear from the outset that there would be no escape from the conference crowd, we found comfort in each other’s physical presence. Without a betraying word or glance, we would always end up next to each other, touching each other, rubbing against each other. Whenever an opportunity arose, she would snuggle up to me with abandon. On a few occasions, when her husband was out of sight, she rubbed her thighs and breasts against me, giving me a nice erection. Although the conference itself had turned out to be kind of “turbo” regardless of Georgescu’s participation, my illicit communion with this passionate woman was definitely not. Ten years ago in Newark, New Jersey!