Monday, December 1, 2014
The Theory of Leftovers
This being Thanksgiving Day weekend you might be expecting me to prattle on about how special it was to have my daughter return home for a visit from the University of Washington.
While it was nice to have her, my house was filled was something even more precious: 8 lbs. of leftover turkey, a fridge full of imported beers including some high-alcohol content Chimay Ale and a DVR spilling over with a bounty of NFL and college football games which would all impact the upcoming playoffs and the all important entry into the Lime-Flavored, Oven-Baked Tostitos Fiesta Bowl.
You can imagine my reaction when my wife tried to drag me from my plenteous Man Cave. To see a movie, no less.
Personally I don't think there's much reason to visit a movie theater. And there hasn't been since the studios released Stay Tuned, the inspired John Ritter comedy classic from the early 90's, but I humored my wife and asked what she wanted to see?
"The Theory of Everything," she replied, "the Stephen Hawking movie."
You want me to walk away from the nail biting gridiron action between Virginia and Virginia Tech to watch a chick flick about some brainiac who believes in parallel universes?
I'm still trying to picture how the writer pitched this one to the studio.
"It's a Rom-Com meets Quantum Physics meets Rudy."
Before you write me off as some unenlightened lughead, if you haven't already, you should know I take a great interest in science and meta-physics. In fact I started out as a Calculus major in college and had visions of pursuing a career in Math, that is until I found out I could make more money by writing stupid marketing material for large corporations.
Last week I was watching a show that touched on Hawking and his multi-universe theory. The incredibly oversimplified version revolves around the notion of an infinite time space continuum. And within that lies the concept that our world is one of many. Furthermore, each of these other worlds is the result of an alternate choice, you or I made.
That's every decision, large and small.
For instance, let's say you had rye toast for breakfast instead of sourdough. According to Hawking, there exists an entire universe that is based on that innocuous bread choice. Somewhere, in a galaxy far, far away, you are eating sourdough toast and Virginia stops Virginia Tech at the 42 yard line and walks away with the win.
I find this take on infinity and the concept of slightly parallel universes quite fascinating.
It means that 7,931,478 light years away there is a leaner, meaner version of me, with a full head of hair.
He didn't sell his Apple stock prematurely and is sitting on millions of dollars.
And when he isn't swimming in his Olympic sized lap pool in his backyard that is 10 miles from the nearest annoying neighbor, he is being tended to by a crew of naked fitness models skilled in the semi-painful art of deep-tissue Thai Massage.
Of course in this distant Schrodinger world, Rich Siegel's wife is a vegetarian. So the only thing in fridge is half a carcass of uneaten Tofu-rkey.