Mr. Ellsworth was a diminutive, well-mannered, effeminate professor of philosophy at the University. Neatly dressed with slicked-back hair, he stood behind the wooden podium in front of the class, eating his lunch - a slice of ham between two slices of white bread followed by a glass of water. When the class began, Ellsworth spoke to the undergraduates with a tone and demeanor that suggested he could make better use of his time elsewhere. Ellsworth often was unable to conceal his impatience with his students.

I don't remember why I signed up for 17th and 18th-century philosophy. I probably needed the credits and thought it would fit well with my art history class. I couldn't think of a drier and more difficult-to-understand course of study. At least 20th-century philosophy might have been more relevant to a young college student in the 1970s.

But it wasn't all bad. I had trouble reading Immanuel Kant's Metaphysical Foundations of Natural Science, but I liked David Hume's An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding, especially the part about the billiard balls. Finally, something I could relate to!

When I was in the 9th grade, I occasionally played pool with my best friend, Adam. He had a massive antique pool table in his basement. We spent many Saturdays there, where he taught me the basics - racking the balls, holding a cue stick, making a bank shot, and even using a bridge.

Later, in college, I would shoot a few rounds of pool in the student union to kill time. I never noticed anyone else playing the game. They seemed more interested in the pinball machines in the greasy diner on the other side of campus.

But when David Hume talked about billiards, my image of him changed from a stuffy old philosopher to a man's man and an all-around rowdy character. I imagine he discussed his "billiard ball" theory with his drinking buddies while shooting a friendly game or two.

A well-known example of Hume's theory of cause and effect involves one ball striking another and how the second ball reacts. Yet, this is not the scenario I remember.

But, without getting too metaphysical, I vividly recall the example of a billiard table aboard a sailing vessel. If a ball is put into motion at precisely the same speed as the ship but in the opposite direction, is it motionless relative to the Earth? While onboard the boat, the ball appears to move. But if viewed from a fixed point on land, it does not. Or something like that! I'm not a philosopher, but I thought it was a cool concept.

I might be interested in exploring the theory aboard a cruise ship. Of course, I would have to consume a few drinks first. I doubt it would be enlightening, although it might be fun.

What if Mr. Hume magically came aboard? We could have fun shooting pool and drinking beer. I could tell him about my class in metaphysics and my philosophy teacher, the stuffy Mr. Ellsworth.

Story Copyright © 2024 by Michael DeFrancesco

Illustration - Playing Billiards, Petworth by J.M.W. Turner, c.1828 - Public Domain