It’s been a terrific couple of days at work. Robert Darnton, a big-time name for us history types, is being awarded an honorary doctorate by Uppsala University and in connection with that award gave two open lectures, one yesterday and one today. I attended both, of course, as Darnton has been something of a hero of mine since I first encountered his work as an undergraduate more than two decades ago.

Both lectures were informative and entertaining, and I can only hope to one day be as erudite an academic as he is. Apart from his impressive and wonderful professional contributions, he is a very kind and friendly man, as I was fortunate enough to learn at the reception after his lecture last night and in our continuing conversation over beers at a local pub later on. When we got our drinks, I noticed that a colleague had brought the legendary Mr. Darnton a beer from Norrland, and after reading the label I remarked to him that it came from a brewery about two hours’ drive from where I live. He asked if it was good and I confessed that I hadn’t tasted it, so he offered me a sip of his. I accepted, laughingly admitting to him that taking a drink from Robert Darnton’s glass was almost more than I could bear. I was that star-struck, but I do think I mostly managed not to embarrass myself. And the beer was all right, too.

A bit later in the evening, I found myself sitting next to Robert’s wife, Susan, and Astrid and I (and another colleague from Canada) had a good long chat with her about all and sundry. She was fun and funny and a very good sport about all of my gushing about her husband. (She had a bottle of her own of the Norrländsk beer, and also appeared to approve). She seemed truly interested in our lives, both professional and otherwise, and she told us some great stories about her own life and experiences (her husband may be a legend, but she’s no slouch in the brains department herself). It was something of an early night, as all of us had to work this morning, but there was more on offer at this afternoon’s lecture.

I had taken my copy of Robert’s book, The Case for Books with me to the lecture, and seeing an opportunity as people were making their way out of the hall, I made a detour past the lectern so I could talk with him again. He greeted me warmly, thanking me (thanking me; as if) for last night’s chat and generously agreeing to sign my book. So, not only did I have a taste of his beer and monopolize his gracious wife’s time, I now am also the owner of a book with a personal inscription from Robert Darnton to me. My twenty-year-old self would never have believed this is what the future had in store for her.