When I was much younger I used to interview myself. Actually, I was being interviewed by someone else, but since the someone else wasn’t actually present, my 12-year-old self had to fill in and play both the roll of the interviewer and “me.” “Me,” in such instances, was often a point guard for a basketball team or part of a famous rock band. I was practicing for a day in the future when I’d be faced with the tough questions, the public scrutiny, the burden of fame.
I haven’t really had to shoulder such burdens. I guess the ultimate dream is still to make the cover or Rolling Stone, but it’s not really disappointing nor surprising to not end up in such a place. There are other possibilities, still a bit too much to hope for, but maybe more realistic. Take the science section of the New York Times, for example. Any piece will do, but this one in particular (with the accompanying video) is now my very favorite.
This comes out tomorrow morning, I think. And I even think that I didn’t get misquoted or, worse, correctly quoted for saying something completely wrong. A couple of lines, some help with the video alongside (which is really very well done) and the text within, and my name. It’s incredibly fun to see your own name in the font named after that paper; almost as fun as to be described as “a physics professor . . . who broke away from his teaching duties” to watch the aerialists. It turned out, after hearing and reading the science writer explain this, that I was spending the afternoon teaching after all. It got learned, and spit out again into newsprint. Not quite the cover of Rolling Stone, but almost, at least for a boy like me.