It’s the match that lit the fuse that caused the explosion that led to the theory of the Big Bang. That’s how one scientist explained the discovery of the Higg’s Boson.
Frankly, I don’t know what all the fuss is about. Tim and I came across a herd of Boson once. We were vacationing on Catalina Island and had been on a day long hike on the island’s preserve, which was reportedly full of wildlife. We were within a mile of finishing up that hike when I started complaining that we hadn’t seen one wild boar or even a jackrabbit all day long.
Some wildlife, I said. We haven’t even seen a cockroach in the wild.
Be careful what you wish for, Tim replied. I don’t think you really want to see a boar in the wild.
He’d no sooner spit out that admonition when we rounded a corner and there, sitting at the bend in the trail was the mother-lode of wildlife. Beasts lounging, sans swimsuits, in the afternoon shade.
They can run 25 mph, Tim noted, as we stood there trying to figure out if we could walk within four feet of them on the dusty trail without becoming their afternoon snack.
The bus was due to pick us up on the other side of that boson herd within the hour. If we missed the bus it was a long, long hike back to the other side of the island.
Holy Higgs! I said. What are we going to do?
The way Tim was looking at me, you would have thought I’d just picked up a rattler and danced on an altar nekkid. Tim shuffled his pack and took off walking, right in front of the Daddy of all Boson, while I stood still as a stone angel. He could offer himself as the evening appetizer if he wanted, but I had no intentions of being desert for some hairy-butt buffalo. But that wildabeest barely blinked as Tim strode within a few feet of his nose. Convinced that it was because Tim was more bone than meat, I refused to budge.
Come back here and get me right this minute, I demanded, ever the damsel in distress.
Tim rolled his eyes and trudged on up the hillside without me. Suit yourself, he said, and left me standing there, a herd of beastly boson separating us.
I stomped my feet. I cried. I considered retracing our previous hike, but feared I’d only encounter a herd of wild boar in the other direction.
Then I made eye contact with the Buddah of all Boson. Giving him the double-dawg-dare-you-stink-eye, I stepped out gently, moving slowly, hopeful that he wouldn’t even notice that I was more meat than bones, and within licking distance of his feet.
If Higg’s Boson is the match that lit the fuse that started the explosion that is Creation, then the herd of boson I encountered that afternoon on Catalina Island are Higg’s lazy, pot-smoking, hairy-backed, good-for-nothing cousins. I’m pretty sure you could have put dynamite up their arse and they wouldn’t have moved out of that afternoon shade.
Although, given how hot it’s been across most of the US this summer, I can’t say I blame them none.
I hope in all this oppressive heat, all your God-particle parts are staying cool and that all your encounters prove as chill as those on Catalina Island.
And may the force of Higg’s deter you away from any future implosions.