White Books

A quick little story about Alice in Quantumland.

I was serving jury duty a few years ago, and I was reading that book while I waited to be given a case. I had a bit of a shock one morning as I was making my way through the courthouse security.

I had set down my jacket, purse, and book on the scanning machine and had successfully stepped through the metal detecting doorway, when a severe voice commanded me to step aside. My mind was racing. Had I forgotten to leave my fingernail clippers at home? Were they upset about the half eaten doughnut in my purse?

I made my way over to the security guard with the resonant voice, and very humbly asked what was wrong. She reached over to the scanner and slowly picked up my book. She looked at it. Turned it over. Read the back. Turned it over again (tapping it against her hand repeatedly). Finally she looked at me.

"Is this your book?" she asked.

"Yes." I stammered.

"Is it any good?"

My heart was racing by this time. I felt like I was arriving in some sort of weird quantumland of my own. I managed to finally get a grip on my heaving thoughts and whispered out a hoarse little "What?"

"The book," she says "Alice in Quantumland, is it interesting? Is it any good?"

"Oh." says I, "Yes! The book is great!"

"Uh-huh." She says. "I was just wondering because I'm only working this job to pay my way through college. I'm taking Quantum Mechanics." . . .