My Dad the Über/Anti-Geek

My dad worked at Fermilab, you know, the lab in Illinois where the Tevatron lives and people in places named CDF and DØ search for things like the Higgs boson. He was a high-energy particle physicist and an expert in installing the 10-ton super-conducting beam magnets used in particle accelerators- CERN even brought him over to Geneva to consult on their installs. He was however decidedly old school, preferred working in Fortran rather than use the mouse and graphical interface on the Mac they gave him. He continued to used a slide rule into the 80's, even I was using a scientific calculator by then. I still have one of his classic pocket slide rules in my desk.

What cements his status as über/anti-geek for me is that while he seemingly could grasp the intricacies of esoteric physics and math, the practical world was sometimes a blur for him. He had me and my sister soldering electronics together at Fermilab by the time we were 10, but he would refer to Star Wars, the greatest movie of all time, as "that movie Space Battles." He discovered how to use crystals to split particle beams more efficiently than millions of dollars of magnets, but only after watching the bulk of Austin Powers did he realize Mike Meyers was playing half the roles, which sent him reeling in manic laughter. He lived so deeply in physics, his "geek", that he was oblivious to most of the culture a more modern geek would typically thrive on. Driving with him anywhere while he was absorbed in a problem was like riding sidekick with a Mentat while they piloted their spaceship, lots of mumbling and hyper-focused, he wouldn't even respond to conversation at times. (He would totally not get that reference).

We once bought him an electronic pocket planner as a gift to replace all the 3x5 notecards that he used to organize his life and work, cards he carried with him everywhere in his front pocket (yes, just behind his pocket protector). After he passed away, I found it sitting proudly on his shelf unused, 20 some years later.

My Dad's Study 2001