Tonight was Kaitlin’s birthday, and I, unlike, Teymour, skipped math to celebrate her birth. It was nice, despite the sixth grade boys-on-one-side-girls-on-the-other mentality — eventually, the genders came to terms thanks to, of course, Harry Potter. I’m not a “reader”, but I have met the sorting hat a number of times, though. No matter my answers to his questions, I am always placed in Hufflepuff — the house full of “good guys.” We’re not brave, we’re not smart, we’re not strong. We’re good. Luckily I was in good company. That is, Evan was in town. We chatted, and eventually took the bin full of beer and the left-over riesling from the party back to my room. Which makes me wonder, when did I become someone who even knows what riesling is?

Which brings me to my second point, and this really isn’t a segue, I admit. I know. This week’s episode of This American Life was especially poignant. Jackie introduced me to the program on NPR a few years back, but it took a Hubble fellow Risa Wechsler to make me listen. Episode 293, entitled “A Little Bit of Knowledge” featured stories about people who make big statements about things they know little about. One of the main stories comes from Dan Savage’s, renowned nationally syndicated columnist of Savage Love, new book to come out this fall called Commitment. His excerpt details his six-year old son’s objection to Dan and his boyfriend Terry’s marriage. They don’t even know if they want to get married. But DJ, their son, preemptively objects. Eventually, DJ gives his blessing, but you should listen to the story for yourself. I defy you not to find it adorable.

If anything, this makes me think about the real power and danger of definition. G�del said that ninety percent of mathematics is done in the definitions. I think he was right. Right now I’m reading a classic text by Steenrod on the topology of fibers. This was back before there was a standard definition of fiber bundle existed. Anyway, this story helped quel a secret hypothetical fear of mine: what if my son wanted to be gay? Savage and Steenrod seem equally elegant, in my mind, in their treatment. Too bad I just took out a book of verse by Ogden Nash today instead.

The oyster’s a
Confusing suitor;
It’s masc., and fem.,
And even neuter.
But whether husband,
Pal, or wife,
It leads a soothing
Sort of life.
I’d like to be
An oyster, say,
In August, June,
July, or May.

The Oyster, Ogden Nash.