James Kling | Mar 28, 1999 | 6 min read
I remember it clearly. It was a warm Friday evening in August. I stood with a beer in my hand, making small talk at a graduate school party. It wasn't long before a new acquaintance, a student of ethnic music, asked, "What does an organic chemist do?" "Mmm ...," I muttered. I stared intently at my beer, swirled it a bit, and wished fervently for a napkin, a ballpoint pen, and a hard, clear surface to write on. But ... no. Complex drawings and scattershot arrows wouldn't interest her, and I'd h