Great excitement here: a God particle. I think it was Einstein who said the greatest mystery is why there is something rather than nothing. In fact this is a toast F gives (it is his only toast); "Here's to there being something rather than nothing!"
So there are bosons and some guy named Higgs postulated that there would be this one kind, and thanks to the European (not American, alas) research, it has been found. The thing that somehow created something from nothing. The match lighter. The magic wand.
I have been hearing snippets of conversation in German that remind me of questions from a very young child, i.e. the very best questions of all: the ones we cannot answer.
"What exactly is nothing Papa?"
Thomas is doing his best, but he took physics a long time ago....and as he said to me with great seriousness last night in bed: there are some things that we are just not capable of understanding.
Yes, I say, Yes there are.
But I am thinking: How long did it take you to figure that out??!
A lot of us realized this many years ago, and have been having a good time ever since.
God did it!!!!! Now who wants to play ping pong?
July Fourth was not very American: we ate fish at the beach restaurant; but the boys played baseball and I listened to that incredible song by Paul Simon: American tune. I have said it before, but I will say it again: If all we Americans do is give the world Paul Simon's and Bob Dylan's lyrics, we will have done a lot.
Today is the first children's tennis tournament.....yes the one where we almost lost to Cindy Lou Who. The one that makes me want to drink during the day. But here is the twist. Last year, there appeared this Little Polish Girl (like in Charlie Brown-the little red head girl). She is almost two years older than F, and last year she was very good. But time has been kind to us, and she and F are not that far apart anymore. She always beats him, but at least this year she has to work for it.
I cannot tell you the pleasure I get from watching her. She is just the kind of girl my brother Andrew fell for time and time again when we were young: this little jock with blond hair in a blue hat. I particularly love it when, on occasion, F smashes it to her, and he gets lucky and she can't get to it. Then you can see her wake up; and when she does, I know it is over. The next ball is in her sights, and she is a gazelle, but somehow moving in slow motion. Slowly, powerfully, beautifully, she winds up....And time stops, and I see everything: her parents' love in that little blue hat, and all that giddy human joy wrapped in the act of swinging a tennis racket.
Bye Bye little ball.
I am on my feet whooping for a child I do not know.
Bye bye little boy.
Next time maybe, but not yet.
To his credit, there is a reluctant happiness to Frederick's posture. He almost smiles as the ball goes past him. Indeed. what could be better than losing to that?
I am not sure what Higgs Boson has to do with that shot; with that little hat, with Paul Simon's tortured mind.
But I am grateful for all of it.
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