Leon Lederman controls the weather!!!
Jun. 7th, 2010 07:06 pmHere begins the story of a small crocheted Hallucigenia and its quest to receive approval from a Nobel Laureate ...

The Hallucigenia's story begins with a thread on Ravelry. Had anyone crocheted a Hallucigenia yet? Nobody had, but a dozen people agreed it was necessary. A general discussion of the Burgess Shale ensued and a fine time was had by all. But after a couple of months with no apparent progress, yours truly decided something had to be done. And so the Alpha Hallucigenia was born, shortly followed by the Beta Hallucigenia pictured here. (Alpha shows more promise as a duckbilled platypus and as such will claim his place in the sun sometime later.)
Beta was completed on a Saturday, a few hours after
beamjockey posted on LJ about an upcoming appearance in Chicago by Dr. Leon Lederman, Nobel Prizewinner in Physics and all-around swell guy. Dr. Lederman was to sit at a table in front of the Wrigley Building from noon to 2:00 p.m. on Sunday, talking with anyone who wanted to ask a question. Street Corner Science they called it. ("they" being the Chicago Council on Science and Technology)
e_m_b and I decided this was the kind of outreach activity we wanted to support. And incidentally it was an excuse to go have brunch at Heaven on Seven where the shrimp & grits are to die for.
It wasn't until we were heading out on Sunday that I noticed Beta sitting on the piano and I said to my husband, "If you were Nobel Laureate Leon Lederman, and some crazy lady handed you a crocheted Hallucigenia and asked if it should walk spines up or spines down, would that annoy you all to hell, or would it make your day?" We decided that you don't sit on a streetcorner offering to answer questions if you're not prepared for whatever gets dished out. And so I emptied a bunch of Celestial Seasonings "Sleepytime" tea bags out of the box, placed Beta in the box, and headed downtown.
We were running late so we decided to hit the Wrigley Building first and eat later. Good idea. Ask a Scientist had a decent turnout.

It being Chicago in the summer, the plaza also contained tourists, street performers, and a bride and groom getting their photos taken.

We waited about 45 minutes in line. I was proud of my husband for listening with a straight face as a lady gave us her Theory of Everything (something about holograms after the Big Bang and this is all a dream). The line snaked forward, and if I didn't have a Hallucigenia in my purse I would have asked Dr. Lederman if the Chicago crowd was more or less crackpot-enabled than New York. As we inched closer and the clock ticked towards 2:00, the line managers warned us that we might not have a chance to ask our questions. We could email questions later -- but crocheted Cambrian invertebrates don't email well. In desperation, just to prove we were there, we took some backup shots of Hallucigenia waiting, waiting...

Before I break the suspense, I must explain a little about Hallucigenia. You should go read Stephen Jay Gould's Wonderful Life right now and come back when you're done. If you aren't able to do that, promise you'll read it soon. Okay, so when Gould wrote the book, Hallucigenia fossils were a mystery because the things had huge spines and a single row of leg/pod/tentacle things on their backs. Apparently, Hallucigenia walked around on its spikes, unlike any other form of animal known to science. Hence the name. Gotta love a fossil named for a bad acid trip. However, in the years since Gould's book, scientists have dissected Hallucigenia fossils (until recently I didn't know you could dissect fossils) and discovered that it's not a single row of pods but in fact two rows. Which means they would function as legs. Which probably means H. walked on little sea cucumberish legs and had spines on its back. Like something that belongs on this planet. Which makes sense but is a bit of a disappointment.
In crocheting my H. model, I sided with the current reconstruction by Lars Ramskold, with 7 pairs of "legs" and 7 spines and a weird forked leg/tail deal which I have my doubts about but Ramskold looked at the fossils and I haven't. You can Google all this if you want. Beta Hallucigenia walks on legs, but I can turn him upside down. Hence my question for Dr. Lederman if I ever reached the front of the line.
Finally, a wrangler tapped my shoulder and said: "You will be the the last one to ask a question." The last one! Hallucigenia waited since the Cambrian Era and would not be denied! I wanted to move fast because it was just after 2:00 and the sky, previously glorious blue, was turning dark. I said:
"Hello Dr. Lederman. I know Paleontology is not your field but I wanted to ask. I have this crocheted Hallucigenia and I need an up or down vote. Do you think he should walk like this (put Beta down on his legs) or this (turn Beta over on toothpicks)?"
It was a noisy place and I'm pretty sure Dr. Lederman didn't catch all that. He may not have realized he was dealing with Hallucigenia and a paleontological debate. But he did smile when he saw Beta. "I like it like this." Dr. Lederman said. "Spikes down."

And I said "Thank you" and walked away in the hopes that maybe someone else could sneak in a turn. And at that instant the skies opened up and the rain came pouring down. When Dr. Lederman says it's 2:00 and time to stop, well then you better know it's time to stop. At this size photo you can't read it, but the sign in the Trib window says "umbrellas on sale here."

We ran in the rain to Heaven on Seven, where I had my first well-deserved caffeine of the day, in the form of three huge glasses of iced tea, and a fine plate of shrimp and grits. On the walk back to the L, it rained twice and cleared twice. The tourists had a good taste of Chicago weather on Sunday. And right now, on my piano, is a crocheted Hallucigenia.
Standing on toothpicks.

The Hallucigenia's story begins with a thread on Ravelry. Had anyone crocheted a Hallucigenia yet? Nobody had, but a dozen people agreed it was necessary. A general discussion of the Burgess Shale ensued and a fine time was had by all. But after a couple of months with no apparent progress, yours truly decided something had to be done. And so the Alpha Hallucigenia was born, shortly followed by the Beta Hallucigenia pictured here. (Alpha shows more promise as a duckbilled platypus and as such will claim his place in the sun sometime later.)
Beta was completed on a Saturday, a few hours after
It wasn't until we were heading out on Sunday that I noticed Beta sitting on the piano and I said to my husband, "If you were Nobel Laureate Leon Lederman, and some crazy lady handed you a crocheted Hallucigenia and asked if it should walk spines up or spines down, would that annoy you all to hell, or would it make your day?" We decided that you don't sit on a streetcorner offering to answer questions if you're not prepared for whatever gets dished out. And so I emptied a bunch of Celestial Seasonings "Sleepytime" tea bags out of the box, placed Beta in the box, and headed downtown.
We were running late so we decided to hit the Wrigley Building first and eat later. Good idea. Ask a Scientist had a decent turnout.
It being Chicago in the summer, the plaza also contained tourists, street performers, and a bride and groom getting their photos taken.
We waited about 45 minutes in line. I was proud of my husband for listening with a straight face as a lady gave us her Theory of Everything (something about holograms after the Big Bang and this is all a dream). The line snaked forward, and if I didn't have a Hallucigenia in my purse I would have asked Dr. Lederman if the Chicago crowd was more or less crackpot-enabled than New York. As we inched closer and the clock ticked towards 2:00, the line managers warned us that we might not have a chance to ask our questions. We could email questions later -- but crocheted Cambrian invertebrates don't email well. In desperation, just to prove we were there, we took some backup shots of Hallucigenia waiting, waiting...
Before I break the suspense, I must explain a little about Hallucigenia. You should go read Stephen Jay Gould's Wonderful Life right now and come back when you're done. If you aren't able to do that, promise you'll read it soon. Okay, so when Gould wrote the book, Hallucigenia fossils were a mystery because the things had huge spines and a single row of leg/pod/tentacle things on their backs. Apparently, Hallucigenia walked around on its spikes, unlike any other form of animal known to science. Hence the name. Gotta love a fossil named for a bad acid trip. However, in the years since Gould's book, scientists have dissected Hallucigenia fossils (until recently I didn't know you could dissect fossils) and discovered that it's not a single row of pods but in fact two rows. Which means they would function as legs. Which probably means H. walked on little sea cucumberish legs and had spines on its back. Like something that belongs on this planet. Which makes sense but is a bit of a disappointment.
In crocheting my H. model, I sided with the current reconstruction by Lars Ramskold, with 7 pairs of "legs" and 7 spines and a weird forked leg/tail deal which I have my doubts about but Ramskold looked at the fossils and I haven't. You can Google all this if you want. Beta Hallucigenia walks on legs, but I can turn him upside down. Hence my question for Dr. Lederman if I ever reached the front of the line.
Finally, a wrangler tapped my shoulder and said: "You will be the the last one to ask a question." The last one! Hallucigenia waited since the Cambrian Era and would not be denied! I wanted to move fast because it was just after 2:00 and the sky, previously glorious blue, was turning dark. I said:
"Hello Dr. Lederman. I know Paleontology is not your field but I wanted to ask. I have this crocheted Hallucigenia and I need an up or down vote. Do you think he should walk like this (put Beta down on his legs) or this (turn Beta over on toothpicks)?"
It was a noisy place and I'm pretty sure Dr. Lederman didn't catch all that. He may not have realized he was dealing with Hallucigenia and a paleontological debate. But he did smile when he saw Beta. "I like it like this." Dr. Lederman said. "Spikes down."
And I said "Thank you" and walked away in the hopes that maybe someone else could sneak in a turn. And at that instant the skies opened up and the rain came pouring down. When Dr. Lederman says it's 2:00 and time to stop, well then you better know it's time to stop. At this size photo you can't read it, but the sign in the Trib window says "umbrellas on sale here."
We ran in the rain to Heaven on Seven, where I had my first well-deserved caffeine of the day, in the form of three huge glasses of iced tea, and a fine plate of shrimp and grits. On the walk back to the L, it rained twice and cleared twice. The tourists had a good taste of Chicago weather on Sunday. And right now, on my piano, is a crocheted Hallucigenia.
Standing on toothpicks.
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Date: 2010-06-09 05:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-09 01:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-09 02:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-10 01:48 am (UTC)Thanks for a great story!
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Date: 2010-06-10 03:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-15 02:34 am (UTC)Send it to me at my LJ login at the Google Mail address. :-)
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Date: 2010-06-17 10:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-20 11:06 pm (UTC)