And definitely Dann, I mostly agree with what you have to share with that post. I also can usually tolerate (in academia) those Profs that are "full of themselves" because they usually are d*mn good at their job. But, then there are Profs who are on par with the aforementioned kind of Prof and they are down to Earth and really cool people.
It is like I could see myself having a drink (or sharing a smoke; etc. whatever... socializing) with the down to Earth Profs; and for the "I am untouchable" Profs (who are usually top-notch teachers), I am unable to visualize myself hanging out (shooting the breeze) with them.
Wow. My experience was a little different The professors I found myself most comfortable sitting and chatting with were the ones who were the most knowledgeable about their subject matter and the best teachers. Conversely, I've never once met an "I am untouchable" type who was anything like a top-notch teacher -- their arrogance effectively made it impossible. Most of them were not nearly as smart as they thought they were, either. Far, far from being damn good at their jobs.
My undergrad and grad school phonology professors, for instance. Both very, very smart. Both absolutely brilliant teachers, able to make some very abstract, esoteric stuff make sense. Both take-no-crap types. Both very intimidating on the first meeting. Scary, scary women, I used to say. But for anyone with the slightest genuine interest in linguistics, far and away the most enjoyable to sit and chat with over coffee at the break, among all of the professors I've ever had. All you had to do was express an interest in their material, and you had a friend in them.
My first-year French prof, on the other hand, was the ultimate "untouchable" type. His specialty was rhetoric, and he was fairly respected in the field. But, for all his academic achievements, and the condescension and pomposity that went along with them, he was, in fact, utterly clueless about second-language teaching. His methodology was appalling, despite the fact that he clearly thought he was brilliant. Every sentence out of his mouth sounded to my ears like "I think I'm smart but am, in fact, an idiot." I can't think of a single person I've ever met who I would want
less to chat with over coffee or a beer.
I also had hip, approachable profs who were not as brilliant as my favourite profs. The extent to which I liked them and would have felt comfortable sharing a beer with them at the graduate pub was directly related to how good they were at teaching and how passionate they were about their work.