(Warning: there is some mature language in this post.)
This is another out-of-order post in my autobiographical series. I had left it out previously because it didn’t really have anything to do with my depression or my current situation, but I thought I’d post it since I’d already written it, and it’s somewhat amusing.
In an academic environment, one encounters all sorts of famous and interesting people. Nobel laureates visit universities to give talks all the time, but in such situations it’s sometimes not so easy to have a tête-à-tête or a meeting with only a few others present.
The first time that I knowingly met a Nobel laureate occurred while I was an undergraduate at the University of Toronto, and happened outside of academe. In fact, I was just shopping for groceries.
So there I was, pushing my little cart full of miscellany, when I rounded the corner, and who should be there — pushing his little cart with one hand and pressing a cell phone to his face with the other, wearing a tweed jacket just like in his publicity photos for the Nobel Prize — but Dr. John C. Polanyi. I realised who it was immediately, and I blurted out — evidently without thinking, because these were my very words — “Holy shit! You’re John Polanyi!”
The cell phone lowered away from his face, which was overcome by an expression of — I don’t know what, exactly. Shock? Disbelief? Horror? Confusion? Probably a mixture of these and more. I myself was not unflustered either. I backed up around the corner and hurriedly pushed my little cart down the aisle. I’m sure my face was as red as a beet.
I don’t know who was on the other side of his cell phone conversation. It was probably just a family member reminding him not to forget to pick up some milk and eggs. But I sometimes imagine that Dr. Polanyi had been inspired by something in the store to have a Nobel Prize-worthy insight, which he had been hastily phoning in to a colleague or an assistant before it slipped his mind. And I had completely derailed his train of thought, which would never be coming back, thus leaving him bereft of a second Prize.
So those were the very first words I have ever knowingly said to a Nobel Laureate: “Holy shit! You’re John Polanyi!” But for all I know, I’ve probably met dozens of other Nobel Prize winners before and said stupid or embarrassing things to them without realising it.
I have subsequently met several other Nobel Prize winners, but none of those meetings have been as exciting as my chance encounter with Dr. Polanyi.
– davinci
You missed a golden opportunity to ask him for help with your homework. I think undergrads used to do that to Einstein all the time.
Did you see A Beautiful Mind, the movie about John Nash? My favorite scene is the one where the colleagues of a freshly minted Nobel laureate approach his table and silently lay down their pens. There are two such scenes, actually. The second one is where it happens to Nash himself.
I have seen the movie, and I remember the scenes you describe. I believe Einstein figures prominently in the second scene (he puts his hand on Nash’s shoulder or something). I actually saw it in the theatre with a friend who is a mathematician, and she didn’t like it because the written mathematical equations in the movie were nonsense.
According to Wikipedia and this FAQ, the pen ceremony was created by Hollywood.
– davinci
Wasn’t Einstein dead by then? If he did appear in the scene, it must have been intended as another one of Nash’s hallucinations.
I didn’t notice that the chalkboard equations in A Beautiful Mind were nonsense. In Good Will Hunting, however, I saw that the “open problems” posted on the hallway chalkboard were elementary exercises in combinatorics, and this blatant unrealism bothered me so much that I had to stop watching the movie. I mean, really, how much would it have cost to have a grad student write some genuine open problems on the chalkboard?
By the way, I recall reading an article about how they hired a mathematician to do the chalkboard writing in A Beautiful Mind because Russell Crowe wasn’t able to form the symbols properly. They cut away to show just his hand when he’s writing, and then it’s really the hired hand. I guess they paid more attention to the appearance of the equations than their content.
You mean the blatant unrealism of Matt Damon playing a genius-level intellect didn’t bother you, but some chicken scratches did?
I actually discussed Good Will Hunting with the same mathematician friend, and she absolutely hated it. I guess if you’re a professional mathematician, there are very few movies about professional mathematicians that will please you.
– davinci