I trust that when he went to the dais to receive his degree he looked a little different than when I saw him last.
I was about to move out of a Malibu Beach rental in about 1972. The leasing agent requested that a putative buyer wanted to look at the house and would I allow them to inspect the place. The realtor, immaculate in jacket and tie, was followed in by what looked like a refugee from some Balkan crisis. Clothed in black from hat to toe, in some very old looking cast offs from the Salvation Army thrift shop.
A guttural hello and that was the some total of his conversation. I searched for a word to describe him...all I could come up with, was, weird.