As some of you might remember, towards the end of last year DrFreddy over at Synthetic Remarks offered out his services as a guest blogger to anyone interested, purely for the fun of blogging somewhere new for a change. I took him up on his kind offer, and this post is the result. Anyone else interested in writing a guest post (or having me write one) should get in touch. Enjoy!
When I first came to London I was only sixteen
With a fiver in my pocket and my ole dancing bag
I went down to the dilly to check out the scene
And I soon ended up on the old main drag
That's the first verse of one of the best songs ever written and performed.
When I was seventeen (not sixteen — and it wasn't my first time in London — but still), me and my then girlfriend went on a weekend trip to London. It was awesome in every aspect. Unfortunately, I can't bring back every detail of it today, and for that I blame the synergistic effects of ethanol and teenage love (CAS # 51-61-6) on your central nervous system. One thing, however, will never be forgotten — and I still possess the physical proof (vide infra).
On the Sunday morning, we took a boat out to the Greenwich Observatory. By the way, did you know that is was we Vikings who first named the place?[1] Anyhoo, apart from literally standing at the center of time and taking in every revelation that comes with it, we got hungry. So, we started looking for a place to eat. Mind you, this was in the early '90s, and large tracts of Europe were still not perfectly adjusted to a free market economy, so every street corner was yet to be blessed with a 7-Eleven (True story, kids!). It turned out that we couldn't find a single open pub or restaurant or any place that would sell us something edible. But, on one street we found open store.[2] Antique books.
I love old books, it's not that. But when you are hungry, slightly hung-over and your teenage love deserves a meal, your main priorities might be elsewhere. However, our return boat was another hour away, so I decided to check the place out anyway. My girlfriend waited outside. In anger.
I made it quick. I came out with this.
For the record:
Title: Practical Chemistry
Authors: Bruce and Harper
ISBN: ?
Publisher: Macmillan and Co Limited
Publication date: 1947
It set me back 50 pence, and I decided to just take it before flipping it open. Its pocket size, the nice patina and the word "chemistry" on the cover; good enough.
Back in Stockholm, Sweden several weeks later was probably the first time that I gave it a real chance. Little did I realize then that this was hands down the best investment I had made in life so far (and maybe to this day). Also, that it would strongly contribute to choosing the path that led to who I am today, for good or bad.
This little one had everything. First, I read it. Then I read it again. Before I knew it, I had memorized every page. I set up a laboratory in my boy room. It grew bigger and crazier by the day, and my risk assessments were in hindsight not stainless.
I'd like to wrap this story up with a confession: Yes — I did at one time synthesize TNT according to the recipe presented. On the kitchen stove, no idea of what I was really doing, a late night when my parents were away, in a 500 mL Erlenmeyer flask, into a boiling mixture of concentrated nitric and sulfuric acids went a squirt of toluene, and out came eventually a yellow solid that stained your fingers upon touching it, and judging by ocular inspection, in a total yield of a few milligrams (<1 %).[3]
What is the best investment of your life so far?
Written by Fredrik von Kieseritzky who blogs as DrFreddy at Synthetic Remarks
[1] Kind of a stretch admittedly, since I likely have very little real Viking DNA in me.
[2] In this context, I should probably say "shop." — And maybe consider putting the closing quotation mark before the damn period. No! Full stop... aarrgh....
[3] I just consulted with a lawyer friend of mine, who uttered the magic phrase "statute of limitations." Still everyone — do not try this at home!!!
