My parents were and are generous to a fault. The spared no expense to get my sisters and me the educational opportunities that we needed and wanted to succeed. Two particular gifts stand out in my own mind as specific and profoundly influential shapers of my own life. I'll tell you about one today: a copy of the 15th edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica.

I have only vague memories of how we ended up with the 30 volumes of that incredible set of books. I see images of a door-to-door encyclopaedia sales man, a contract signed in multiple parts ordering the Britannica. I was ten years old at the time, and I couldn't wait to get my Britannica set.

The day that it was set to arrive, I ran home. I was not the type of kid to run too often -- but on that day, nothing was going to keep me from bursting through the door and racing down to the basement of the house in which there were three very heavy boxes of books.

I loved the EB. So many days would I just take down the volumes and thumb through the pages, diving into the mystery of things I couldn't quite grasp but knew to be incredibly fascinating. One day, I swore, I would understand this all.

If it weren't for the EB (along with the reams of yearbooks to keep the EB "up to date") -- a big expense for my parents who were part-restaurant owners -- I would not have: 1) gotten into the big questions about how human knowledge is organized, 2) created an independent study course as a senior to study the Britannica outline of human knowledge (called the Propaedia -- the brainchild of Mortimer Adler), 3) become so disappointed now with the online EB 4) become so curious about so many things as I am today.

I still have a copy of the EB Propaedia on my shelf today in Berkeley -- though not all 30 volumes.