Besides a binder filled with transparencies, I’d brought materials to build models of a soccer-ball-shaped buckyball molecule and a long, slim “nanotube.” I carried tote bags of Styrofoam balls, drinking straws, wire mesh, a sturdy metal T-square, scissors. Arts and crafts gear.
“I hope this won’t be too juvenile for them,” I said to Daniel.
He shook his head. “Nah, all students love crafts. Hands-on, visuals, field trips, demos, anything but listening to a lecture.” A blush started at his neck and spread to his face. Poor guy, I thought, a blusher, like most fair-skinned people. “I didn’t mean—”
I laughed. “Don’t worry, Daniel, I know what you meant. I thought I’d start the session with an overview of Buckminster Fuller’s life. How’s this? An amazing journey from a desperately poor man with a young family, on the brink of suicide, to a life of invention in service to humanity. And now a whole series of molecules named after him. What do you think?”
“Wow, I think it’s great. I told you, I’m a huge fan of Bucky’s. Are you going to talk about how his ideas were so efficient, no one wanted them because it would upset the economy? I mean, if you can build homes that are cheap, strong, and safe, for everybody in society, who would want to spend a third of their income on some square box with endless decorations, right? And renewable energy sources.” He shook his blond locks. “Let’s not even go there.”
I cleared my throat. “Hmm, is this a political science class?” I smiled to show I wasn’t some good old boy who was afraid to second-guess the American capitalistic system. Even if I was. “And how about that Dymaxion map of his—the first to show the continents on a flat surface, appearing as a one-world island in a one-world ocean.”
“Right,” Daniel said, shaking his head. “One world. As if.”
I knew I’d lose any debate on the basis of language alone, and knew also that Daniel’s dream, like Fuller’s, of “more with less” technology was basically a good one. Back to hard science, I decided.
“You know, carbon itself has an exciting story. We thought we knew everything about it, until 1985, when this new, third pure form, after graphite and diamond, was discovered.”
Daniel laughed, and stroked his hairless chin. “Just remember, to these kids 1985 was a long time ago. You might as well be talking about Abraham Lincoln.”
“Good point.”
I showed him a transparency for buckyballs, a graphic with a caption that explained its shape:
C-60, NAMED BUCKMINSTERFULLERENE, BECAUSE THE SIXTY CARBON ATOMS FORM THE SHAPE OF AN ICOSAHEDRON, OR GEODESIC DOME, LIKE THE KIND INVENTED BY BUCKMINSTER FULLER. LARGER FULLERENES CONTAIN AS MANY AS FIVE HUNDRED CARBON ATOMS.
Buzzzzzzzz!
The buzzer for the start of class startled me, a loud Klaxon sound as if to call inmates in from the yard.
Daniel laughed. “I think there was a sale on those bells last year.”
In came about fifteen students. And one very tall, bald gentleman with thick glasses. Dr. Timothy Schofield, I presumed. In expensive-looking navy slacks and a beige cardigan, he was by far the best-dressed person in the room. Maybe even the oldest, I thought. He wore a pleasant expression as he extended his hand.
“I’ve heard so much about you, Dr. Lamerino,” he said. I doubted it, since I barely knew Daniel, but it was a nice way to start off. “I hope you don’t mind my dropping in on your talk. I thought this might be a good way to get to know the students and hear what kinds of questions they ask.”
“I’m glad you could join us. Daniel’s told me about your coyote project,” I said. I’d never met a veterinarian and wondered what kinds of questions he might ask.
Once the class was settled, I launched into a tribute to carbon, the sixth element of the periodic table, and its all-pervasiveness, in our food, clothing, cosmetics, and gasoline.
“And they’re a girl’s best friend,” said June-Anne, a tiny Asian student.
I was happy June-Anne could relate carbon to diamond, one of its three pure forms, but Lynda with a y, as she called herself, poked June-Anne. “Better not say that. Dr. Lamerino doesn’t like sexist remarks. I’ve been in her class before.”
“How is that sexist?” June-Anne wanted to know.
“Well, girls should be thinking of more than bracelets and rings, for one thing, like school and all, and then the whole, like, cliché involves a guy giving a girl expensive jewelry, when why doesn’t she just get, like, a great career and make a lot of money and buy her own diamonds? Right, Dr. Lamerino?”