An evening walk means passing others enjoying the spring air; a nod as they pass, a pondering of their appearance, their attire; a desire to avoid drawing conclusions based on what could be seen. It was at a lecture on astronomy that the tendency to form assumptions was conclusively challenged.
The man wore an unlikely combination of clothes. A pair of grey cargo pants, a black V-necked tee shirt, a very baggy purple fleece, and a pale blue and white velour hat of the type that might be worn by babies in buggies. The hat held in place a mop of whitish grey hair which hung in thick straggles, unwashed in days. His fresh complexion bore two or three days of beard. He carried a plastic carrier bag out of which he seemed to draw odd items.
His companion was a dark-haired woman in a vivid green summer dress, also with a carrier bag.
They arrived late to the lecture, sitting in the very front row, a few seats away from where I sat. The woman took a reporter’s notebook from her carrier bag and the man took out a hard backed notebook in which there seemed to be many diagrams. Further fishing by the woman produced two pens, one of which she passed to the man.
He leaned forward intently, watching the lecturer, then leant back, placing his feet against the bench in front watching the slides. About half an hour into the lecture, he took hold of the plastic bag and pulled out a large bag of jelly babies which he proceeded to eat.
All this took place within a few yards of the lecturer, but if he was at all discommoded, he showed not the slightest sign of it.
The duo were fascinating. Had I met the man in the street, his unkempt appearance and odd combination of clothes would have gone with the expectation that he might have asked for the price of a cup of tea, but the lecture was one he had paid at the door to attend, and was hardly the most comfortable of places to spend a couple of hours.
When it came to the questions, the woman in the green dress asked about the coalescence of matter into galaxies.
One can hardly go to someone and say they look fascinating, but clearly the man was quite happy in his choice of appearance and dress. He could have afforded to be different, but had chosen to appear as he did. Was it a mark of indifference to the world around? Did his attendance at a lecture on theoretical physics characterize someone who believed reality to be something completely different from the trivial politics and celebrity froth that fill the media? If I had passed him in the street outside, would I have held him in similar regard?
Soooo, not watching the weddin then, eh. 😀
This was a village lecture ?.
Even when Princess Anne was married in 1972 and there was a day off school, I did not watch it. Not watching such things is a habit of a lifetime!
The astronomy lecture was in the Schroedinger Theatre in the Physics building at TCD.
Ahhh that explains it. You have a gaggle of Dubliners with money going back to when Noah was a lad -Probably subcontracted the wiring on the ark, truth be told- who dress in their great grandparents tweeds and got a darn good education in UCD and TCD.
In ’72 we hadn’t the electric. We were in a pocket to one side of the 30s line and the 50s line didn’t quite get that far. But a very very republican neighbour had a TV and all turned up to see it. It was the first time I was struck by contradictions so amazingly displayed. And being more than a tad OCD found it very hard to deal with back then. 😀