Chicken soup and a show for the soul...

It started raining off and on around 1:00 PM on Friday. It was pretty steady by the time I drove home, though.

I had nothing planned for tonight, so I putzed around for a bit, and then warmed up the chicken soup for my dinner. Now I wish I had taken the time to make my own noodles. If you remember, I used store-bought wide egg noodles. On the first day, they and the soup were beautiful, nice noodles and a rich golden broth. But, by now they are all beat up (from stirring I suppose). It still tastes great, but the presentation is out the window.

When I made my home-made noodles, I went with a one egg recipe, instead of the one that called for three eggs. They stayed together through several warm-ups and then freezing and thawing, but tasted more like dough than egg noodles. So, note to self: Next chicken soup, try the recipe with more eggs!

I had a bowl with a big slice of sour dough bread and then wandered in to watch a taped show that Jake recommended: Parallel Universe, Parallel Lives.

It was a BBC show about an American alternative rock musician, Mark Oliver Everett, who goes in search of information about his father, Hugh Everett III. In 1957, this young and brilliant physicist published a paper which used some heavy duty mathematics to predict the existence of parallel universes.

Although the concept of parallel universes seeped into popular culture, it was considered too way-out for mainstream physicists; and for many years, it remained in the scientific wilderness.

This was a devastating blow to Hugh Everett who left academia at the time and was always upset by the fact that his scientific theory was not taken more seriously until shortly before his early death.

Hugh Everett III died of a heart attack in his home in 1982. It was Mark who found the body.

"My father never, ever said anything to me about his theories. I was in the same house with him for at least 18 years but he was a total stranger to me.

"He was in his own parallel universe. He was a physical presence, like the furniture, sitting there jotting down crazy notations at the dining room table night after night. I think he was deeply disappointed that he knew he was a genius but the rest of the world didn't know it."

It was, as Jake said, fascinating. I'm not sure if they are still showing it, but it was on PBS on the Nova program. If you get the chance to see, do so.

I have often mused on just how little my children really know about me, but recently I realized just how little I know about them. I suppose that is true of all parent/child relationships, but it seems sad...

Not seeing anything to top that, I switched to my book until bedtime.