Crash With Greatness
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Sometimes conversations with friends turn to the question, "Who's the most famous person you've met?" Other people seem to have great stories. My friend, Regina, and her husband invited Saul Bellow over for waffles who met him in an elevator. The following are actual real-life examples of things my friends have told me about meeting famous people that I've just now made up:
- "Beyonce and I go to the same taxidermist."
- "Mother Teresa was my server at a Denny's one time before she got super famous."
- "I was behind Al Pacino in a line at a bagel place. He ordered a cinnamon-raisin bagel with roast beef and mustard. Gross."
- "Billy Joel once beat me in raquetball at the Pasadena YMCA."
- "Mathew Broderick used to sell me weed."
- "I grew up with Jodie Foster but we kind of grew apart sophomore year of high school."
- "I helped Muhammad Ali jump start his car in a Safeway parking lot once."
- "Molly Ringwald and I shared an Uber to the Newark airport once."
- "I had to help Tom Hanks bury a body in an abandoned factory out in Red Hook in the 1970s."
- "Michael Dukakis and I studied in the same ashram in Nagaland."
- "I beat Scottie Pippen in a hot dog eating contest in Pittsburgh."
Long story short, I never have much to contribute to these discussions with my friends, who absolutely told me those imaginary things I just made up. Sure, back in the 1980s when I worked at Odegard Books Saint Paul, I had my share of chance encounters: Garrison Keillor lived nearby and would come in. He was not very pleasant. Another person who lived in the neighborhood was August Wilson. We booksellers kind of kept our distance from him out of respect. He was quiet and always unfailingly polite. But I don't think it would be right to say I actually met August Wilson even though I sold him some books once upon a time. But, in the right crowd, I tell the story of when I met Thomas Kuhn.
- Three maps of the cosmological systems of Ptolemy, Copernicus, and Brahe. Paradigm shift?
Thomas who? I can hear some of you asking? Is this a famous person? Well, as I tell my students, Thomas Kuhn could go grocery shopping without getting mobbed, but he was probably the most famous post-World War II philosopher in the world. Kuhn, in his 1962 book Structure of Scientific Revolutions introduced "paradigm" and "paradigm shifts" into the public venacular. What are paradigm shifts? They are a theory of scientific change that posits that science is not necessarily progressive. Philosophers, please don't "Um, Actually" me on this because what paradigm shifts are isn't really the point.
The point is, Kuhn's theory of paradigms is famous. Don't believe me? How about this? Or this? How about this? Or maybe this? As a reasonable person, I'm perfectly willing to see any cartoons, songs, or video games based on the phrase "Lakatosian degenerating research programme" produced by anyone who doesn't think Kuhn is the most famous postwar philosopher. And here's how I "met" him.
The year is 1990. I have been a graduate student in the Program in the History of Science and Technology at the University of Minnesota--Twin Cities for about two weeks. My advisor at the time was the mysterious and elusive John Beatty. John told me the Philosophy of Science Association was having its Biennial Meeting in downtown Minneapolis. I should go down there and "check it out." Thomas Kuhn, who's book I'd already read (I told you he was famous) was the PSA President and would be giving the Presidential Address.
So, I went on to downtown Minneapolis to, as ordered, "check it out." The main lobby was crowded. Milling with philosophers. They were thick in the ground. Now, I'm not a small person; I don't like being in crowds. I feel I'm always in the way, worrying about stepping toes, etc. But, "checking it out" required me to go to the registration desk amongst the teeming throng of philosophers. So I did. I paid the fees with a check (kids, ask your grandparents) and got my program and name tag. I turn to leave the desk and SLAM into the gentleman who was standing behind me and, up until that point in time, simply minding his own business. He stumbles, I redden with embarrassment, and apologize profusely. Naturally, my victim was Thomas Kuhn. My introduction to the field nearly sent the pre-eminant philosopher of science in the world tail-over-teakettle. I do not remember his reaction at all, but I do remember slinking away and thinking that maybe I could get a job at a car wash because clearly I was never going to cut it in the History and Philosophy of Science.
My only other memory of that conference was Kuhn's Presidential Address. By chance, I was sitting behind Ron Giere, the director of the Minnesota Center for Philosophy of Science and an incredibly accomplished philosopher in his own right. Kuhn was talking about incommensurability of paradigms or somesuch thing. Giere spent the entire talk shaking his head, hitting his forehead with the heel of his hand, and generally giving all the non-verbal cues that could be translated as, "Can you believe this shit?"
Consider the conference "checked out," Beatty.
jpj stories by John Jackson is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0
