Special Relativity

By Ed Tasca

The year 2005 was the 100th anniversary of Einstein’s special theory of relativity, and I for one, believe the man may have something here. But first things first. I think I’ll have to take a moment to explain relativity to one and all. Relativity explains what happens when you are traveling at the speed of light (C) — the fastest you can possibly go before you get a nosebleed (NB) — and you are seen by a witness standing on a subway platform. According to Einstein, you will age more slowly on your lightbeam, although your clothes will be a mess and you’ll never see your Red Sox cap again. The witness, on the other hand, will begin having heart trouble, and eventually be taken out of the subway by paramedics.

For all you skeptics, here’s how it works. According to an expert on Einstein, Doctor George W. Forbes (known among friends as Lindeman), the witness on the subway platform thinks he sees you traveling at the same speed as the motorcycle. Did I mention the motorcycle? Sorry. The motorcycle is also traveling at the speed of light right alongside you in the subway. (I haven’t a clue who let the motorcycle into the subway, but with everybody flying around so fast, nobody has time to think about anything but chasing down their baseball caps.) At any rate, the witness tries to hitch a ride on the motorcycle. But by the time he sticks out his thumb, the motorcycle is 67,000 miles away (94,000 miles away, if he took the freeway).

But, if the witness and the subway platform were also traveling at the speed of light, the motorcycle would look like it was standing still, and the witness could theoretically hop on the back seat and get home day before yesterday. The paramedics would never be called and can pick up that drunk at City Hall instead, unless of course the drunk is also traveling at the speed of light, which is unlikely, since he can’t even afford a subway token.

Now, the question that Einstein grappled with for the rest of his life is, should you be cited for theoretical reckless driving, and your insurance rates increased?

Are there any questions?

Good. Because I don’t have any answers. The publisher insists I give sources for my explanations. And I have to say, “Sources? What sources? I’m the sources.”

And he laughs, and everybody laughs, and we all go do therapeutic finger painting.