It's
Saturday morning. At the break—between sessions where we learn
that we are wet bags of crystals and chains whose manufacturing
processes are ancient and found at the base of the tree of life—Dr.
Watson arrives. He's immediately surrounded by fans thrusting their
schedules or copies of his book
A Passion for DNA
at him,
requesting his autograph.
Patiently,
like a research rock star, he signs each book. A young Japanese
woman runs up the auditorium stairs two at a time and retreives
a disposable camera from her bag. She approaches him and asks with
a bow if he will consent to a picture. She hands the camera to a
stranger and in a moment Watson is surrounded on both sides by young,
smiling Japanese conference attendees. Watson looks into the camera
and offers a broad smile. They thank him and Watson turns to sit
next to Bruce Stillman, the director of Cold Spring Harbor and a
man who other Nobel laureates here have told us may get his own
Nobel prize.
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