Street repair creates Higgs boson safety pin
I had just confirmed debit card payment at the dry cleaner. I extracted the card and..
Payment Okay
Remove Card
“This card is noticeably lighter than it was before I made this payment,” I thought. “And so is my bank balance.”
Bereft of francs, I decided to use Excel skills sharpened at the UBP office. I wanted to know if it was cheaper to buy new shirts rather than having the old ones laundered. An objective analysis was complicated because it depended on the quality of the shirts I’d purchase and whether to ask Nazy to bring some from California (thereby reducing the number that I’d need.) It required an assessment of the suitcase space that the newly acquired shirts would consume (too much space could result in a checked baggage fee) and had to include adjustments if I decided to leave shirts behind. Using government estimates (francs/kilocalorie) I adjusted for the extra energy I would need to walk to the shirt store. (I didn’t have to go out of my way to pickup or drop items at the laundry: it was on my way to the office.) The result: too close to call. I asked Nazy for advice:
“You want to buy shirts?”
“Well.. Yes.”
“Then you would have to pick colors.”
“These are dress shirts, Naz. Anyone can choose the colors. I will stick to solids: Blue, yellow and white.”
.”You’ll come home with Purple, Green and Pink. Have you thought of washing your shirts in the apartment’s laundry?”
“It’s a shared washing machine, Nazy and I’d have to calculate the opportunity cost associated with ironing the shirts. My time isn’t free you know.”
In the end buying new shirts was economically better - as long as I bought cheap shirts. (I knew that wouldn’t fly with Nazy.) The experience illustrates the high prices in Switzerland. In the shirt laundry category, Geneva prices even exceed Zürich’s! (Of course, they did a better job in Geneva: I know because it took longer. More objectively: in Zürich, a laundry tag is stapled onto the shirt tail. Not only does this create a hole in the garment, manual staple extraction can be painful. (I pricked my finger once). In contrast, Geneva craftsmen use small safety pins to affix the tags. And, to avoid perforating the shirt with pin holes, they thread the tag-carrying pin through the thread-bearing hole in the button. In short: pin never touches cloth. Of course, all of this labor-intensive work results in an inflated price.
While I’ve been in Geneva, I’ve taken the opportunity to see many of the city highlights. The apartment is centrally located and Geneva is a walkable city with lots of nice sites. But last week, I decided to venture beyond walking distance. I decided to visit CERN, home of the Large Hadron Collider (LHC). Its just past the airport and the last stop on Tram 18. Dr. Google suggested that I sign up for a guided tour. The website:
http://outreach.web.cern.ch/outreach/
agreed that was the best way to “see CERN” but, at the same time, informed me that the next guided tour slot was in August. I was assured, however, that there were still several free things to see. Free did not mean interesting. In fact, “free” = “boring”. And the only exciting thing, a CERN polo shirt, wasn’t free.
At the office, I’ve been dealing with Windows XP and Word 2003. Note: measured in internet time, Word 2003 is equivalent to Quill 1456 or, more likely, to Chisel -1295. Compounding the challenge, I have a French keyboard that interchanges the ‘z’ and ‘y’ keys and relocates the punctuation marks. My MacBook Pro, the one I use at home, has a “normal” keyboard. So, by the time my finger memory has adjusted to the French keyboard during the day, it has to relearn the non-French keyboard at night. (Those who believe that the “z” and “y” keys don’t make a difference do not have a wife named Nayz.)
Luckilz, I am an adaptable person, unflustered bz minor problems like kezboards.
Newsflash: Although I use old software, it has not had a negative impact on my productivity. Perhaps, as absurd as it seems, it isn’t really necessary to upgrade every time Microsoft comes up with a new release.
Last week I mentioned initial preparations for Nazy’s visit. At that time, I focused on cleaning. As the countdown continued, I realized that I needed not only a clean apartment, but also, a welcoming apartment. I thought for a second and then dashed to the wine store. (La Cave) I arrived home with a great Shiraz and a wonderful Burgundy. (Connoisseurs may be able to detect my beverage of choice in the background.) I admired my handiwork and then:
“Where is the corkscrew?” I asked myself.
Luckily, I was in French-speaking Switzerland: a nearby grocery store had an excellent selection of corkscrews. And, I noted, an equally complete wine display. I concluded the visit by purchasing Camomile and Earl Grey.
“What else is needed?” I thought. “I know! Fruits and (sigh) vegetables.”
I got some cherries, grapes and pears. Cautiously, from afar (and averted eyes) I danced around the vegetable display - escaping before I was pulled into healthy doldrums. Having escaped the black hole of broccoli, I continued my quest.
“Now I just need candles and flowers,” I thought.
The city, meanwhile, was also preparing for Nazy’s arrival: weather, which had been cold and wet, turned sunny and warm. And, to make Nazy feel at home, the city began a major construction project on the street right in front of the apartment. (In Zürich, they (re)repaired the street in front of our apartment six years in a row!)
To mark the beginning of construction, the work crew showed up Monday morning. (7:00AM.) They unloaded their equipment and began prepartions with jackhammers and pile drivers, hole makers and gravel grinders, noise generators and high explosives.
“This RDC (Road Demolition Collider) makes more noise than CERN’s LHC (Large Hadron Collider).” I thought. “With a bit of creative thinking, they could have discovered the Higgs Boson on Rue des Glacis de Rive. There’s got to be more energy released by a jackhammer hitting cement than there is from two protons hitting each other.”
As I stuffed cotton in my ears, I noticed that standing waves were forming in the flower vase. (I was reminded of a scene from Jurassic Park - when the T-Rex was lumbering into view.) The apartment was vibrating. “I hope they don’t hit resonance frequency,” I thought. Then, I dashed through the RDC-created quark-gluon plasma an headed to work. “Nazy is not going to like this.”
[On the bright side: [I could vacuum the apartment without worrying that the noise would upset the neighbors.]
City construction left the street (in a shambles) at six o’clock in the evening. I had a few silent hours before The Pussy Cat Night Club’s special event cranked up. And, as I discovered the next morning, the hot water was “out of service”.
“Nazy is really not going to like this,” I thought. “Maybe she’ll be impressed by my stoic suffering and sacrifice.”
Reader Interrupt: Maybe she’ll call the land lord and get everything fixed.
“That too,” I reply.