My Dinner with Neil by Lauren Holiday Today, the question if you could go to dinner with anyone, who would it be and why was posed fo me. | knew immediately who it would be. Neil deGrasse Tyson. Celebrity? Perhaps not in the traditional sense, but if you're dying to her a witty version of how string theory makes 10 dimensional space time seem totally natural, Neil's your guy. Or at least mine. Ever since | can remember, I've been staring up the sky wondering where it all came from. Wondering, how does it work? Wondering, do | even have the capacity to imagine how amazing it all is? If there is one person who could manage to dumb it down for me and make me laugh at the absurdity of life all at the same time it would be Neil. His passion for the universe is infectious and | would eat up every word right along with my meal, searing the experience into my brain to cherish like an ever-lasting gobbstopper. | imagine Neil would be an odd sort of vintage, that only a certain discerning palate could truly appreciate. He probably has his own geeky fan club, the way Star Trek fans congregate to share secret knowledge of the Star fleet universe, or rabid Firefly fans cybermob Joss Whedon to bring back their beloved series. | secretly desire to sit and chat with this sarcastic philosopher/master of our known universe sipping wine while Schroedinger’s cat is both curled up in the corner and not all at the same time. It won't bother me because | know Neil can tell me why. He lovingly chats about the cosmos and |, in happy repose, have an intellectual orgasm.