It was a cold winter night. Jim was working late as usual at the University.

At 8:30, he picked
up his phone and called his wife, Florence, who answered the phone with her usual "hello"
that often reminded Jim of why he'd married her. It reminded him of the very first time
they'd met in that small caf in downtown Jersey. Jim vividly recalls how beautiful she had
been. She had had long, brown hair, beautiful tall legs, and the facial structure that seemed
to Jim to be heavenly. Now, that same "hello" was the only thing that was keeping Jim sane.
Since Jim had taken the job as a professor at Princeton, his bosses incessantly pressured
him to publish. It had been about two years since he had been awarded the Nobel Prize in
Physics for his unification of the four fundamental forces of nature. He'd worked tirelessly for
seven long years on "the theory of everything" as many called it. Florence had been his
driving force. She had sometimes sat silently next to him during the long nights as he
worked. Although her understanding of Physics was minimal, Jim always appreciated her
presence. She was a calming force in the middle of a deadly storm. After he published his
work, Jim's whole world changed. Many compared him to Einstein and Newton. They all said
that his findings would forever change the world. A theory of everything, they called it. But
even Jim had been skeptical of his own work at first. Since his work depended heavily on the
theoretical graviton, he wondered if the graviton would ever be found or whether his seven
years worth of work would all fall apart. This doubt slowly ate at Jims heart. Luckily enough,
three months after he published, physicists at the Large Hadron Collider at CERN announced
that they'd found a particle that closely resembled the theoretical graviton. Further tests and
experiments proved that that was indeed the elusive graviton. Jim was blown away. He
couldnt believe what he had accomplished. Job offers immediately started flooding in.
Harvard, Yale, Princeton, M.I.T. Every college and university wanted Jim Sailer, the man who
found the theory of everything, to work for them.
For a while, Jim was the talk of the country and the world. Every major news organization
wanted an interview with Jim Sailer. This newfound fame was welcomed by Jim and Florence
too, who, in college, had briefly pursued Theatre as a major hoping that shed one day be
under the limelight. That day finally arrived, although through an unexpected route. Jim was
ecstatic. His newfound success came with some perks. First of all, his income more than
tripled from doing superficial interviews with journalists who were more interested in Jims
personal life than the Physics behind his work. This irritated Jim, but the money more than
made up for his discomfort.
Six months passed and Jim was still touring the world giving lectures. He was invited to
speak at Oxford, Cambridge, Tokyo University, Peking University, and even Zurich University.
Seldom did Jim travel by himself. Florence was always by his side. She was his rock. When
theyd gotten married, they hadnt had enough money to go on a honeymoon. Now, since
the lectures were only one or two hours long, Jim and Florence finally had their overdue
honeymoon. On one windy Sunday afternoon, as Jim and Florence sat on a park bench in
Paris watching the beautiful Parisian sunset, Florence reminded Jim of a conversation theyd
had back in New Jersey.
Jim, do you remember our first New Years together?
Of course Jim said, how can I forget. It was the night I first told you that I loved you.
Well, when I asked you what you expected from your life, you said that you were born to be
mediocre Florence now had a wide smile on her face. Jim understood what his wife was
trying to say; however, he still couldnt believe that he had actually unified the four
fundamental forces of nature, a task even Einstein was unable to do.
You then told me that I was underestimating myself Jim said as he smiled. He then leaned
over and kissed his wife. Florence then leaned her head against Jims shoulder. They sat
there for a few more hours watching the sunset with the Eiffel Tower in the horizon.

After a year of touring the world giving lectures and interviews, Jim and Florence returned
home to New Jersey. Jim quit his Job at the post office and decided to take the job at
Princeton to stay close to home. Doubts about taking the Princeton job filled Jims mind. He
didnt believe he deserved to teach at an institution such as Princeton. Of course, it was too
late to change his mind. Hed already signed a three year contract and he didnt want to
disappoint Florence, who seemed to be happier after hed told her that he was taking the
job.
We are so pleased to have you here at Princeton Mr. Sailer said Jane Smith, the Princeton
President. Everyone is very excited that you are here. In fact, the faculty are throwing a
party tonight to celebrate you joining our team. Jim was flattered. His feelings of doubt
turned into unbelief. He couldnt believe that the worlds most leading experts in all fields
wanted to throw a party just for him. Following a tour of Princeton, Jim went home and
waited to go to the party later that night. Florence was still working when Jim got home so
he took a quick shower and nap. At about five Oclock, Jim was awakened by a loud noise in
the kitchen. He quickly got up, and quietly made his way to the kitchen with his baseball bat,
hoping to catch the burglar by surprise. There was no burglar. Or rather, Florence was the
burglar. She had dropped a plate, and was on the floor crying.
Whats the matter, honey? Jim inquired. Florence was silent for a few moments, as if
contemplating how to respond to her husbands question. I got fired today.
Florence had worked at Roebling Museum since graduating from Rutgers University.
Jim Sailer had never been an exceptional student. He maintained a B average in high school,
which, according to the National Institute of Physicists, is well below what most Physicists
got in high school; however, his teachers loved him because of his curiosity. His high school
Physics teacher remarked on an interview with the New York Times that "he never got
satisfied when one of his questions was answered. He always had a follow up." When he
graduated high school, Jim chose to attend Rutgers University where he decided to major in
Physics. Jim had always loved Physics, but he had feared he would fail. For the first three
years of college, he was right. He scored at the bottom of his class on every test and he
always seemed to be confused. His professors advised him to drop Physics as a major
multiple times, but Jim refused. Jim was stubborn that way. Once, when he was 12, Jim had
decided to learn how to play the guitar. His parents offered to pay for lessons, but Jim
stubbornly insisted on teaching himself. Fast track a year later and Jim was able to play a
mean flamenco. He became such an avid guitar player that Carlos Santana heard about him
and invited him to tour with the band. Jims parents refused to let him go, fearing that the
Rock and Roll lifestyle would corrupt their thirteen year old son.
On his fourth year of college, Jim met Mr. Rodgers, who took a keen interest in him. Mr.
Rodgers was well known in the physics world for his research on nuclear fusion and he asked
Jim if he was interested in working with him in his lab. Jim was shocked by his professors
request. He thought it was odd that Mr. Rogers chose him instead of the other students at
the top of his class, but he nonetheless accepted the offer. When Mr. Rogers was later asked
what he saw in Jim, he claimed he saw a bit of himself in Jim. "Had it not been for Mr. Rogers,
I couldn't have accomplished what I have" Jim often says in his interviews.

Two years later, Jim's well of knowledge and creativity seemed to have dried up. He stayed
at Princeton until odd hours of the night working, sometimes aimlessly. On the phone,
Florence inquired on how his work was coming along. Jim answered with a long sigh of
defeat, "I think I peaked, Florence. I think my fifteen minutes of fame are over."

"Don't say that." Florence said. "You are only 30 years old." Jim wanted to yell at his wife for
implying that 30 was young. "Did she not understand that most physicists hit their peaks in
their mid-twenties?" He wondered. "How was your day, Florence?" They spoke for twenty
more minutes before Jim said he had to get back to work and his wife warned him not to
work past midnight.

I was born in a small town, where everyone seemed to know each other. Seldom did
any information go unreported. Whenever I'd sneak out and go swimming in the
river, which was highly frowned upon, I'd return home to an angry mother, who
surprisingly knew about it. To this day, I don't know how the information in our
small, rural town traveled so fast as to rival Verizon's fiber optics. This was
fascinating, but it also led to numerous instances where conflict was inevitable due
to the fast sprouting seeds planted by gossip. Despite this fact, life in my small time
was quite beautiful. I am the man I am today because of my small town.

Life in my small town was stagnant. The people I grew up with were the same
people who grew up to work at the local shops. The only means of population
growth was reproduction. Very few people if any came migrated to our town. I'd
often hear my father claiming that the town was growing at an alarming rate;
however, to me, this was ludicrous. How could it possibly be true? I'd seen the same
people every day since I could remember. In retrospect, I don't quite understand
why people never came to our town. Of course there were the sporadic hunters,
who'd accidentally stumble into our town, but they were always lost men looking for
directions to the nearest "town." Whenever a visitor was in town, the news would
spread like a wildfire. Everyone would flock around them in attempts to persuade
them to stay. All our efforts were in vain. For me, however, I didn't understand such
measures. Why were we acting like begging peasants to please people who viewed
us like savages? Answers to these questions evaded me. I was quite amused,
however, by the visitors. They always seemed to be confused about what to do. I'd
sit up on a mango tree and binge eat those sweet mangoes as I watched the foolery
going on below me. These are some of my sweetest memories.