A Quantum Leap

By Sally Franz

I have been on a riff about how people organize themselves into professional and interest groups. Just to remind myself that in America we like our hobbies, our sports and our careers and those cross all kinds of geo-political lines. Which I say is a good thing. We have more in common with each other than the glaring headlines would admit. And one thing we have in common is the physical laws of nature. So I am glad there are folks who specialize in these fields. That’s how we have rocketships and such (I recommend you go see the movie “Hidden Figures.”)

That said, people within advanced science groups have lots to talk about and laugh about. But those of us on the outside don’t really get the jokes. My daughter, a fan of the “Big Bang Theory”, owns a Mazda 3.14. She then added the following number across the back of the car: 159265389… which is hilarious if you have a photographic memory and know those number together make pi. “Yes, Mother,” she said, “as in (pi) R (squared) not pie is round.” Pretty sure that is another nerd joke. Meanwhile my version of String Theory is when I venture a guess as to where I put the string and theorize who took my scissors. Many of the left-brained people who are laughing in traffic at my daughter’s bumper numbers work with quantum mechanics. (Think about the people in factories etching the tiny chips for computers.) Only these mechanics work on things so small they can’t actually see them. And when you can’t see something you are no longer called a mechanic you are called a Philosopher of Physics. These mathematicians work with things we cannot see, cannot know, and may kill us.

Then there is the strange “tail” about Schrodinger’s cat in a mythical box. I thought the cat was in the hat, but I digress. In this saga, you have to guess when the cat dies. I am thinking, geez let it out, but that is not how the story goes. Sounds more like Alfred Hitchcock or Stephen King. Am I right? This cat is sealed forever in a box and there is poison that may or may not kill him. Kind of like going to the grocery store and wondering if there is still mayonnaise in the fridge. If there is, is it outdated? How outdated? I mean some things like pickles last a year and don’t kill you. How do you prove that the mayonnaise is still “passable”? I know, take some mayonnaise and “Give it to Mikey. He’ll eat anything”. Let’s call the cat Mikey. That’s it, no moral here. Just that it takes all kinds and I am not in the Brainiac Club. And if I were invited, I wouldn’t be able to figure out the sequence pattern to the door code. Because it would be based on some random reference in a Star Trek show. “LOL” (see you didn’t think I knew that one).

So while I don’t know what these people are laughing about, I sort of get it. Okay, no I don’t. But I hope they tell me if something like a rogue electron is going to kill me a day before it happens so I can max out my credit cards on dark chocolate fudge. I am not afraid of dying at my age. I have seen too much death already to be worried about the Grim Reaper. Maybe he isn’t all that grim any way. Guess it depends on where you think he is taking you. But I can’t help but thinking if I am facing the big time-out in the ultimate black hole or bright white light, wouldn’t I be better prepared with chocolate on my lips?

Sally Franz and her third husband live on the Olympic Peninsula. She has two daughters, a stepson, and three grandchildren. Sally is the author of several humor books including Scrambled Leggs: A Snarky Tale of Hospital Hooey and The Baby Boomer’s Guide to Menopause. She hosts a local radio humor segment, “Baby Boomer Humor with Sassy Sally”.