…on May 21st. The same day the world was supposed to end. I’m not jumping to conclusions.
The previous Wednesday, I was part of the killer lineup at Ben Lillie’s Story Collider, where he brings science to the masses with true tales of everyday life. It’s sort of a genius idea, but I bet you don’t get to become a high-energy particle physicist by being a moron. But of course, I wouldn’t know. Just like I don’t know how to get myself out of a damn zoo after closing hours. (The original theme of the night was “Zoology,” leading Ben to invite me to tell “that ridiculous zoo story.” Then the theme changed to “Bodies,” but I was kept on the bill to tell “that ridiculous story featuring….caged…bodies?” It was a stretch, but I went with it.)
A photographer was there, snapping away, but I didn’t think anything of it. There’s usually somebody taking pictures at storytelling events, and they only surface if there’s one of me looking like I’m chewing on an invisible log. Candid photos are not my friends. But manservant Mike asked the photographer where he was from, and spent the next few days checking the WSJ website, til he hit gold, and shared this:
Manservant is kind of awesome.
So for the first time in ages, I went out and bought an actual physical newspaper. Okay, ten actual physical newspapers.
It was great to make it into print, but I couldn’t help but notice one glaring oversight: David Dickerson told far and away the best story of the night, about his adventure skinny-dipping in Red Tide. It was funny, exhilarating and – like the best stories – really, genuinely moving. I can only guess that the reporter was in the loo at the time.
Go here to find out when the next Story Collider is, and to hear podcasts from past shows: http://storycollider.org/