Dan The Man

The epitome of boring would have to be a Carl Sagan lecture about the vastness of space. I remember the late 80’s like it was just yesterday! There I was. Astronomy class, Mrs. Lewis. She was a mousy nosed little woman with a liberal arts degree and some sort of teaching credentials and a classroom full of sleepy teenagers full of hormones, nicotine, and stupid. But this was the class to take if you needed an easy A, and you were capable of writing your name at the top of the page. Each day, mouse would dim the lights, and Carl Sagan, turtleneck, scratchy 70’s audio and all, would proceed to expound upon the greater intricacies of the universe and attempt to weave a blanket of knowledge in his audience. Unfortunately that blanket is very warm and snuggly and you will lose consciousness shortly after his monotone banter begins. I can just begin to see the creases in his corduroy pants as he strolls across the campus of MIT waxing poetically about Avogadro’s number, that is until the snoring of Lynn, my cheerleader / lab partner. I adored her, the way the soft light from the projector made highlights on the top of her head. Blonde haired, blue eyed, gorgeous. She was gonna be mine one day… I just needed to courage to talk to her (I was not Rico Suave (Don Juan), none of that back then. Each day a new film of Sagan, sometimes a repeat from the previous day. Rinse, lather, repeat. I was nearing asking her out, when Sagan went on the most boring platitude about the expanse of space and the improbability a differing rate of expansion or contraction of the science thingy… When… apparently a serotonin dump in my lab partner caused a new phenomenon which had not previously been seen, examined, or diagnosed. When she lifted her head, a string of drool was attached to the end of her nose, and thereby exposed the massive gleaming puddle of spit that the other end of her spit bridge was attached to. For a brief second, the twilight between movie end and the classroom lights coming up, science proved awesome once again as a small prism like effect was cast upon the surface of the desk because of light and refraction and stuff. Kinda like the dark side of the moon cover. It was spectacular, for a second and a half, while time, her drool bridge, and a tiny rainbow all occupied a single space simultaneously. It was magic! The she used her arm like a squeegee, raking all her drool off the edge and vaguely onto the floor and perhaps some of her own lap. Then, with surgical precision, removed the spit from her bare arm with the side of her own mid section and t-shirt. The honeymoon was over. There wouldn’t be a subsequent… hey are you free later? That ship sailed, when her drool glistened. And it’s all Carl Sagan’s fault!