I'm enjoying my fellow Lady Killers' posts on history and historical fiction, and I really should chime in, since I have a lot of thoughts on the matter. However, this week, I feel the need to revert to adolescence. :-)
People who know me know that I'm serious about music. I have a piano that weighs close to a ton and is worth more than my car. (That's not saying much, but still.) I've sung in an acoustic trio and a Dixieland band for years. Right now, I'm looking to broaden my horizons, so I'm starting a band that will do original blues rock. I'm the lyricist and "front man." This should be a hoot. And I'm talking to a jazz group that occasionally needs a chick singer.
I'm also passionate about science, which has resulted in a degree in physics and an advanced degree in engineering and a telescope in the garage that I'm sad to say is gathering dust. I'm also making a baby quilt that is covered with planets and nebulae and the space shuttle and satellites.
So imagine my pleasure when I learned last year that Brian May, the lead guitarist for one of my favorite bands in my teen years, Queen, had gone back to school and finished the doctorate in astrophysics that he left to become a world-famous rock star. I've made sure my twelve-year-old daughter had a intimate understanding of Mommy's music, so I made double-sure she knew about Dr. May's achievement. I wanted her to know that you can't do everything in this life, but if you set your goals high and work hard, you can do a lot.
Last week, my son called to tell me that his alma mater's website said that Brian May would be speaking at a tribute for his former astronomy professor...and we live maybe five miles from campus. Now what are the odds I'm not going to take my daughter to see an astronomer/musician? We were so there.
Since Elton John packed a coliseum here last week, I was afraid there would be such a big crowd of middle-aged rock fans that we wouldn't get in, so we got there very early planning to eat lunch while we waited...only to find an empty auditorium. I guess middle-aged rock fans don't actually want to hear their heroes talk. Weird. So we got the best seats that weren't reserved for astronomers, about five rows back and on the aisle. As it turned out, there were a lot of astronomers there, but not so many rock fans. And it's entirely possible that the rock fans who were there were also science groupies, just like me.
My daughter had asked, "Mom, will I understand anything that they say?" I told her that the event was for the general public, so I expected that the talks would be very accessible, and they were. The chair of the astronomy department spoke, then Dr. May. (More on that later.) She followed their talk perfectly, so she was much relieved. Then the honoree got up...and spoke in Spanish. :-D We got a little chuckle out of the fact that neither of us understood anything he had to say.
Dr. May (maybe that sounds funny, but I just think he earned the honorific) talked about his relationship with the honoree, as well as his specialty, the movement of particles in the dust cloud that causes a phenomenon called the zodiacal light. Being interested in history as well as science, I found his slides showing historical drawings and photos of the zodiacal light to be especially interesting. And everybody enjoyed the photos taken around 1970 of the the little building clinging to the side of a volcano where he did his research. Not to mention a couple of photos of him playing an acoustic guitar on the side of that same mountain.
Since the crowd was small, we were able to go up and speak to Dr. May and get our picture made with him. (Actually, we did that twice, since I forgot to save the photo. Duh.) He spoke to my daughter for a moment and asked her if she liked music and whether she sang. Since he was nice to my daughter, I'm indebted forever. Then he turned and shook Mommy's hand, too.
So my daugher got to see that even a rock star who has played to crowds of tens of thousands gets nervous. And she got to see that he did a great job anyway. And she got to see that it's never too late to learn things, and that you don't have to pick just one thing to do in this life. On our way home, she said, "Mom, I don't know what I want to be when I grow up. Everybody else does." I told her that everybody else would probably change their minds a few times...like her mother, the engineer-turned-mystery-novelist and Brian May, the astronomer-turned-rock-star-turned astronomer. She said she was thinking about astronomy. Or maybe archaeology. Zoology sounded nice, too.
So Mommy's lifelong desire to promote science and just general intellectual curiosity to her kids, the eldest of whom is a mechanical engineer and the second of whom is well on her way to being a clinical social worker, is paying off.
Mission accomplished.
Here's the photo...the one I saved.
