Happy 221st birthday to us. Independence Day is a bueno holiday in my book; the weather's always good, the traditional foods are among my favorites, and fireworks delight my soul. John and I plotted to find the perfect place to watch the festivities in the evening. Having decided we could get a great view from the top floor of the Vanderbilt Physics building (where he works), we accepted an offer to join some friends for a bar-b-que. A thunderstorm in the middle of the day took care of the oppressive humidity problem, and we sallied forth bearing our bowl of brain jello in perfect confidence.
Yes, brain jello. I own a lovely brain-shaped plastic mold, and John periodically feels compelled to concoct ghastly combinations of red, orange, green, and yellow jello to create a highly unlifelike brain. The first time I had to eat some I was vaguely repulsed. This version amused everyone by splitting apart between the two lobes when it was cut into, providing a reason to argue over left-jello/right-jello activities.
It was a party consisting of four physicists, an economist, and me. As usual at university parties, I'm the only ordinary worker bee in the crowd: the only one who thinks web pages are interesting (instead of being a pure waste of scientific bandwidth), and the only one who has no degree. It's okay, though, because I'm educated, bright, and have many useful social skills. I normally breeze through without a problem until they start getting technical. At that, the tech talk of the nuclear physicists leaves high energy physicists like John in the dust, so I never feel particularly out of it. This party wasn't bad in that way, and we all had a jolly time filling up on pork ribs, corn on the cob, salad, jello, and strawberry cake, washed down with good beer. I even had a beer, feeling particularly brimful of bonhomie.
As dusk fell, the fireflies winked and danced out on the lawn and I felt the lure of fireworks pull me inexorably away from the party. We got to the Physics building just around 9pm when the riverfront festival gets started. Arriving on the ninth floor, we looked for a likely office from which to watch the lights. Dismay struck as we realized we'd forgotten about the new Chemistry wing which precisely blocked the view of downtown. We dashed back downstairs, across the courtyard, and into the Chem. elevators. Bummer! The top floors needed a key to make the elevator go there. Aware of time passing, we rode to the fifth floor, pelted down the hallway to the stairwell, and climbed as fast as we could to the ninth floor. Just as we found a seat by the windows, a enormous red and gold light blossomed over the river and we heard the boom from the fireworks. Panting but happy, we saw the whole show.
When we got home we watched the first color photos of Mars. It's a marvelous thing to be alive, here and now.
