Two recent text message conversations worth sharing.
The first was with my brother Spencer:
Spen: I’m reading at work the first part of a biography of Lyndon Johnson, titled “The Path to Power.” I’m afraid people are going to think it’s one of those nutty empowerment books, like “The Secret.” No hocus pocus for me, just solid history. History as honest as salt on eggs, true as a fine whiskey, colorful as the inside of a horse.
Me: The inside of a horse is black, until you introduce light by cutting it open.
Spen: That’s what a good biographer does — slaughters the horse.
Me: Can I quote you on that one?
The second was with my dad:
Me: Hey dad, which element makes blue? ;)
Dad: Copper blue, sodium yellow, calcium orange, strontium red, barium green. Happy 4th!
(Me: Hahaha, awesome! Happy 4th!)
My dad is a chemist, and every year when we were little and we would watch the fireworks, he would quiz us on which colors were made by which elements. I always forget, though. The above text conversation took place while I was watching the fireworks in Sugarhouse.
I’m just now noticing he didn’t say what makes white or purple. I’m pretty sure Magnesium is white. But I don’t know what makes purple! Dad? You don’t read this, do you?…