On the Einstein Experience

Being Labelled.

Faced with the familiar dilemma to change my (famous) last name following matrimonial formalities, I'm caught between between embracing the traditional nominal shift of becoming my partner’s respective Missus or, alternately, sustaining my remaining lifetime via (what’s I’ve recently come to coin) "The Einstein Experience."  Multiple times per week – sometimes per day! – I am invited into platonic flirtations with mere strangers over a shared interest in science and/or the written language, during which one of us usually blushes with giddy embarrassment. Either I shamefully admit how little I actually know about my, er, great (great) grandfather or, likewise, they take me up on my offer after an initial solo attempt at sounding-it-out (uh, yeah, about that spelling…).  These moments, however fleeting and forgettable, provide me with easy entrée into the vulnerability of human nature which, in spite of my enthusiastic embrace of becoming someone's wife, I’m not sure I’m willing to give up.  Would you? (Enjoy!)

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