Last October I received a phone call asking if I could survey Landau's contributions to condensed matter physics at a commemorative 80th birthday symposium to be held in Tel Aviv the following June. I said no, I couldn't. I wasn't an historian of science, and wouldn't pretend to be one. And as a physicist I felt that Landau's contributions in condensed matter physics spanned an area broader than my competence to review. Then I hesitated. I never had the opportunity to meet Landau, but there have been times in my life when I have felt his intellectual presence so vividly that, more than a teacher, he appeared to me almost as a scientific muse. How could I turn down an opportunity to pay public homage to the man who, more than any other, built and permeates the edifice, poking around the corners of which has been the largest part of my experience as a physicist?

So I told my caller that although I couldn't talk on the topic he wanted, I could talk about the ways in which my own career has intertwined with the thoughts of Landau; how no matter what new area I turned my attention to, I invariably found myself working with concepts of his devising. Such a talk would not be historical. It would simply illustrate how the work of Landau impinged on a typical run-of-the-mill condensed matter physicist of a later generation, and it might more appropriately be titled “My life with Landau.” “Great,” said my caller, “just what we want.”