Thursday, June 16, 2011

New York, New York V.

229. Signing a birthday card for the 75-year-old founder of my research area, also known as the only person I have ever met at a conference who wears suspenders. His birthday this year, someone says, was months ago, but given the significance of his age, there are still a card and a cake to celebrate the milestone. 

At the end of the septuagenarian's plenary talk, his postdoc student of over thirty years ago informs him of the birthday surprise. "...Everyone has signed the card, and there is a cake waiting for you outside. Happy 75!" Still standing at the podium, the birthday man looks surprised, then turns sideways to say something to the former postdoc, in a low voice. Silent for a few seconds, then, the former postdoc relays this information to the audience, who are waiting eagerly for the verbal reaction of their carefully planned surprise. "He says he is 76..."

230. Feeling breathless, as I sit two rows away from the Broadway Ambassador Theater stage, realizing my 8-year-long dream of seeing Chicago the musical, with my Belgium's research group.

231. Midnight. With Anna, being the last customers at (aged.), sharing a burger and a mixed berry mojito, talking about love.

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