The world lost a true legend this week, a man who I’m afraid too few remember.

His name was Mr. Wizard. Sure, he had a real name, and if I wasn’t lazy I’d look it up. But then again, his real name is not important. He is a wizard. He is a man. Thus, he is Mr. Wizard.

He is responsible for teaching me and countless other so much about the physical world around us. Through his television show and science experiment books, Mr. Wizard very well may have shaped modern science as we know it.

He taught me that you can adhere a piece of string to an ice cube simply by sprinkling a little salt on top. That’s not only pure brilliance, but something I find useful in my everyday life.

He’s also the reason we used to sometimes have rocks in our basement freezer. You see, in one of his home experiment books, there was a diagram on how to make those rocks explode. Just freeze them, take them outside and pour very hot water on them—of course after putting on your safety goggles. I don’t think we ever got it to work. Maybe we were using the wrong kind of rocks.

On the TV show I remember a segment with a kid sitting on a spinning stool holding a small weight in each hand. Mr. Wizard gave the kid a spin and had him put his arms out. It was absolutely fascinating to see how differently the kid spun with moving his arms in, and then back out. I felt like I was being clued-in to amazing secrets of the universe.

If not for Mr. Wizard, I may not know anything about science. I might have been the kid in chemistry who mixed two things together and sent everyone in the class to the hospital. Thanks Mr. Wizard, for not making me a scientific doofus.