My face has been known to intimidate my students. It has made my sons cry on more than one occasion. “What is the matter?” people ask on days I am feeling just fine, good even. Between my eyebrows, there is a furrow which at first glance may suggest deep thought, or mild aggression, or possibly boiling rage. I have to concentrate to relax it away, and change the message of my face from “tread carefully” to “why, hello there.” I don’t smile nearly enough - not at my boys, or my wife, or my parents, and certainly not at strangers or casual acquaintances. If my face is a book, I am not sure it is one people would be excited to read. The book of my face does an admirable job of telling the story during the big moments of life. When my story is one of exceptional joy, my face will show you that in a moment’s glance - crooked teeth, eyes alight with happiness. When I am angry or feel I have been wronged, there will be no hiding i...