In this week’s episode, both of our storytellers share tales of well-intentioned choices gone wrong.

Part 1: In fourth grade, Ro Moran is thrilled to be trusted with the class pet iguana, Iggy, for the night. But by morning, something is very wrong.

Ro is an award-winning empanada eater with a penchant for storytelling. His credits include Prose of Pie, Tiny Tales, Story Boom, Story Collider En Español, and producing the Westchester-based 'Say Word' show. He is most remembered for his groundbreaking trio with his 14yr and 3 yr old . They’ve since broken up due to ‘creative differences’. When Ro isn’t telling tales, he is a social justice warrior for human rights non profits.

Part 2: As an exchange student studying superconducting oxides, Karoline Mueller tries to save money by gold-coating a cheap crucible instead of using a solid gold one.

Karoline is the youngest of 4 siblings. Growing up in Germany, the family interests included music, art, nature, and building things. From fairly young, there was no question in her mind but she would study music and teach private music lessons. Her plan got smashed in the audition process and she was not accepted into a conservatory program. It took her some time to recover from this huge disappointment. In a relatively random way, she stumbled on the book, Urban Systems in Crisis, by a biochemist and network thinker and was fascinated by this new way of solving problems. She was reminded of fun chemistry demonstrations and enrolled at the Saarland University in Chemistry. Despite low confidence in her English, Karoline pursued a semester abroad and came to the Texas Center for Superconductivity at the University of Houston. Delighted by the amazingly supportive mentorship at the center, she decided to return for her Ph.D. in Chemistry. She has been working there as researcher and student mentor ever since. Karoline’s passion for science outreach grew over the years and now she takes great pleasure in organizing presentations and demonstrations of superconductivity.

Episode Transcript

Part 1

You guys remember a few years ago, there was a video of planet Earth with a little iguana that's running for its life from like a billion freaking snakes. And every snake wants that guy dead. It's just barely making it each time. It's just barely escaping their jaws. It's so frustrating to watch and you really want the little guy to make it because it needs to go back to its little nest at the top of the hill. They always almost get it.

But you're rooting for it because you watched Snakes on a Plane and it means you’re really anxious too, right?

Ro Moran shares his story at QED Astoria in Queens, NY in November 2024. Photo by Zhen Qin.

That supposedly takes place in the Galapagos Islands in Ecuador. It's one of the islands where Charles Darwin supposedly docked and found a bunch of different species of birds and reptiles and stuff like that. It's also where he crafted his Theory of Natural Selection.

Everybody remembers natural selection from school, right? Wow, really? I had to look it up.

Natural selection is basically the process through which living organisms adapt and change. In case you missed that one day of school, it's basically survival of the fittest. As is definitely beautifully portrayed but this little baby iguana that dodged these one million snakes that wanted to eat it and probably became president of the little island.

In fourth grade, I too, lived in Ecuador, and I loved it, man. I had just entered puberty, so I was taller. Why does everyone laugh when I say that? I was taller than everybody, I was faster. I got chosen for sports before everybody else did, and I loved it. But the best part of it was that I sat in class next to Alyssa.

Yes, that was my reaction every day. Alyssa was my Winnie Cooper, you guys. Every day, her desk, she would move it a little bit closer to mine and I loved it, man. But you know what? The best part was that this weekend, I finally was going to take home our class pet, an iguana called Iggy.

I was so excited. I loved Iggy. She was about yay big. She lived in a huge‑ass tank with a bunch of ferns and rocks and her little water bowl. She wasn't the most interactive pet in any way, but she was cute. I knew enough never to open the lid because she would run off and scamper, something her little wind‑up legs like that, and you could never catch her. So I knew never to do that.

But I was really excited. I had spent the whole week catching bugs and I had amassed a really big collection of bananas under my pillow. My room smelled like shit, but I was really, really excited.

Come Friday afternoon, I'm carrying this big‑ass tank to the bus. I'm making sure every step is very deliberate, because I don't want to give Iggy any vertigo.

Then the weekend was amazing. Let me tell you, like we did so much. I fed her, I changed her water, we danced, we listened to the new INXS album. She preferred Whitesnake. I'm a dad. It was just amazing. It was the most fantastic time.

Then Sunday was even better, because we had dessert. I think it was bananas and fruit flies. Then we watched America's Funniest Home Videos and we went to sleep.

I woke up in the morning and I was so excited to tell everybody. So I put on my best Bermuda shorts and my best Reebok pumps and I went to have some breakfast. I ate really quickly, Captain Cheerios or whatever that was called. Cap’n Crunch, yes, and the Soggies. After that, I went to check on Iggy.

"Hey, Iggy, wake up!" She didn't move.

Oh, God. She's so lazy. No, guys. She's sleeping.

“Iggy. Iggy.” She still didn’t move.

So, I moved her tank and nothing happened.

Then I said, "Okay, I'm going to just open her tank and hope she doesn't scamper." I opened her tank and I grabbed her and she didn't run. She didn't move. She just lay there, motionless in my hand.

I didn't see her body inflating and deflating as she was breathing. And I thought, “Oh, shit, maybe vertigo will wake her.” It didn't.

I began to scream and I began to cry. I called my parents and they came running. “What's going on?”

As I'm telling them the story, my mom's hugging, and my dad is me, basically. He taps the glass and he pushes on the chest and also checks for vertigo. And nothing.

That ride to school was the worst I've ever had. It's been the longest. I don't remember much except that it was raining, or it was at least raining on top of our car because I was a killer.

We got to school and the other kids were so excited, man. They're like, "Ro, how'd you do? Where'd you go? What did you guys do? Did you listen to INXS with her?" I couldn't answer. Not even when Alyssa talked to me, just because I was a killer. I just looked off in the distance and I tried not to cry.

I saw as my mom pulled aside our teacher, Mr. Gross and he just grabbed his head and shook it. He looked at me and looked away, probably because I was a killer.

I felt so ashamed but I was so grateful for him that he was going to tell them what happened. He was going to use the words that I probably couldn't.

He gets up and he walks at the front of the class and he solemnly says, “Hey, guys. Everybody take your seats. Happy Monday. I'm so happy to see you all. Ro? Do you have anything to say to the class?”

This motherfucker. Like, dude, I'm nine. Like, come on.

But you know what? Survival of the fittest, right? I got this.

So, I get up and I walk to the front of the class. I take a deep breath and I'm trying not to cry, but I am. I say, “You guys, last night, me and Iggy watched America's Funniest Home Videos.”

And then I hear Trevor just yell, “Oh, man, the video where the guy got kicked in the nuts was hilarious.”

I'm like, “Trevor, read the room.” So I go back to crying.

And I said, “And we watched it and then we finished reading Freckle Juice and went to sleep. And then this morning when I woke up, Iggy didn't. I'm sorry, you guys. It wasn't on purpose. I don't know. I swear, I tried everything. It wasn't my fault.”

I look around the room and I can see Trevor's lip quivering, and Laura and Andres are crying. And I hear a screech as Alyssa moves her desk away from mine.

I just want to disappear. I want to escape. So I look to the front door and see if I can make a run for it. Instead, through that window that every classroom has in their door, I see my dad, and he's beaming. He's got the biggest smile.

I'm like, “Dad, read the fucking room.”

And Mr. Gross opens the door and my dad walks in with a tank, and no one says a word. He places it down on Mr. Gross's desk. And the whole class watches as Iggy runs from a banana to a rock and then back to the banana. Everyone erupts and runs. They're like, “What happened? This is amazing!”

I can't believe it and I'm looking at my dad. I've never been so happy to see him, because we fight a lot. I've never been so happy, but I'm so happy you're here, Dad. I just wish you would have gotten here five minutes early, maybe not stop for breakfast, but it's okay.

And I hear Trevor say, “Mr. Moran, yo, what did you do? What happened?”

And you know what? I want to know too, because who the hell is this zombie iguana?

Then my dad, being a storyteller that he is, just like his son who would also be, says, “Well, you guys, you're not going to believe this. I was very brokenhearted about the way all you guys were going to feel, right? So I say, let me see what I can do.”

By the way, this is not at all the way my dad talks, but for this purpose it is.

So he continues to say, “So I was very brokenhearted so I went to the room and I picked up the little iguana. I touched and I pushed in his chest and nothing happened. Then I did it many times to the beat of staying alive. Then I blew on his tiny tongue, and nothing happened, you guys. I was so worried.

But I remember, hey, it's Ecuador and we're in the tropics so it's raining. So I went to the remote control and I pulled out the batteries. Then I found the little baby iguana nipples and I put the batteries on the nipples. As soon as lightning hit the TV antenna, I said, “Clear!” And then she was running back to life. I was so excited, you guys. I got her and I put her back in the tank and I closed it. I turned off the lights, I turned off the air conditioner and I rushed here as quick as I could, you guys. I only had one McMuffin on the way here.”

And all the kids erupted. They're so happy. And Trevor, I hear him yell, "My dad says that iguanas don't have nipples."

You know what, Trevor? Shut the hell up. But I'm so happy for my dad.

And Mr. Gross is staring at this guy and going like, "What is wrong with you?"

Then I look at my dad the same way, because I'm hoping whatever caused him to say that isn't hereditary. But I'm so happy and I can't believe that this is happening.

Then I looked at Mr. Gross and Mr. Gross looks at me and his eyes are wide.

He says, “Wait, Rodolfo, are you telling me that Iggy slept with you in the room?”

“Yeah, I've been saying that.”

“Was the air conditioner on?”

We live in Ecuador. It's literally the equator. Like, the sun beams on us. I need an air conditioner and I said, “Yes.”

He's like, “Oh, my God, this is amazing. You guys, Iggy is a reptile. He's an iguana, like snakes. They're cold‑blooded. So what happens is that when the temperature drops below 45 degrees, they go into a dormant state. Basically, it's a cold stunned state. They lay there motionless, so it's almost like they're dead, but they're not. This is amazing. They're breathing. They are, but it's so light that you can barely tell.

So, no, she didn't die. It was just kind of hibernating. This is amazing. So, you guys know Centenario Park. When you go there, they say that you shouldn't be there early in the mornings during the winter, because one of the iguanas might just plop down from a tree and break your neck.”

And I look at this guy in disbelief, because I feel like he could have said something earlier, because he is a science teacher. He should have known this.

Then I look around the class and I really, I'm looking for a sympathetic eye, because I'm not a killer, but no one was looking at me. Alyssa has not moved her desk back.

I learned so much that day. (A) I learned that reptiles are not for me. They will not be my pet. Two, never sign up for anything at school. No matter what, never sign up for anything. Three, yes, me and my dad fight a lot, but he's always going to have my back, and perhaps in the most ridiculous way possible. But he's always going to have my back.

And it doesn't mean that I'm going to lower my guard. It just means that I'm going to be okay. All I can tell you is that, now, my eldest child loves to tell a story how they still have the same hermit crab from when they were four years old. And I can't tell you how good I've gotten at giving hermit crabs mouth to mouth.

Thanks, you guys.

Part 2

First semester as a chemistry undergraduate, I find myself in a huge sea of students. The lecture hall is sloping down and far away down there is the professor. One of them declares, “By the end of the year, a third of you will be gone.”

I look around. Some of my neighbors wisely nod with their head, and some are a little shrinking. I'm shrinking.

Karoline Mueller shares her story at the Salt Palace Convention Center in Salt Lake City, UT in September 2024. Photo by Danielle Waters.

I found myself in that place somewhat by chance. For all my years growing up, I wanted to become a musician. But after failed auditions and a year working in a violin shop, I decided to study chemistry and was determined to succeed, but, at the same time, I felt totally underprepared.

There were my classmates, all seeming so much smarter, and I awkwardly tried to make some conversation. One of them declared, "Only organic chemistry is really worth the title of chemistry." And guess what? I have a bad memory. Organic chemistry was never in my future.

As if teachers and classmates weren't bad enough, the analytical lab left an indelible impression on me with its reek of rotten eggs, because the separation process involved hydrogen sulfide. So, I was already anxious about the lab and then, entering the corridor, being greeted by that stink, my stomach just clenched up. I was so glad when that part of the lab was over.

But then even in the quantitative analytical part, there were a few times when I really messed up. Like, I forgot an early step in the procedure and my results were completely off. I go to hand in my results to the teaching assistant. He looks at it and was like, "Okay, here's a new sample for you. Do it again." I did it fine then, but I was so glad when I handed it in that he didn't totally berate me.

Luckily, in the meantime, I actually managed to find some classmates that I liked. We formed a study group. I think that brimstone Lab really welded us together and we became the mutual aid society. Together, we made it through the years and passed our exams for lectures and labs, we made it through small research projects and we passed our final oral exams.

Now, the only thing left was a six‑month project for our final research and we would graduate as diploma chemists, the equivalent of the master’s.

And there comes one of my friends. She says, “Look, there is a chance we could go abroad for this. We could go to the University of Houston in Texas.”

I really hesitated. But in a huge leap of faith, I decided to join her. So now, there is a new research project coming and there's a new country, a new university, new faculty, and above all English.

I get there and I join a research group and I work under the supervision of Professor Dr. James Meen, as we would say in Germany. But there in the lab, everybody just called him Jim.

At the time, the research was focused on mapping out the conditions of formation for oxides of interest, namely superconductors and oxygen ion conductors. I started working on the bismuth‑barium oxide system.

So just like my lab mates, I started weighing out powders, grinding, pressing pallets, sintering, taking a small portion, making teeny tiny gold loops to hang into the vertical quench furnace, leaving it in there for a day, drop quenching it, setting it in epoxy, polishing, carbon coating. Finally, we are at the point to actually do the analysis with an electron microprobe analyzer.

That result then gives me one point on my phase diagram. Yay!

2012_ASC_Poster-Presentation_with Jim.JPG

But guess what? I really enjoyed the work. I like the people in the lab and I really enjoyed the work itself, and these data points were a huge reward.

But then comes the point where, in addition to the ratio of bismuth to barium, we also wanted to know structural data. We wanted to use powder diffraction. For that, I needed a much larger sample.

Now, barium oxide is really reactive. It eats into all kinds of materials so standard aluminum crucibles wouldn't work. A platinum crucible wouldn't work and we didn't have a gold crucible that fitted that furnace. So, I used gold tubing and made tiny crucibles, cutting pieces, rolling up the bottom, crimping, welding, punching holes, making a handle. They were so cute. Golden, little, shining crucibles.

The sad side was that after each experiment, I needed to rip that tube apart in order to get my sample out. First of all, I was sad that my shiny golden crucible was gone. Secondly, it's quite a fair amount of money in gold that just got wasted each time. I really was racking my brain to come up with a different solution.

So, one day, I'm helping a colleague from a different lab with carbon coating his samples. We were chitchatting, and he said, “Well, you know, in our lab, we have a gold sputterer, and we can deposit really thin layers of gold.

I was like, “Ah, that's it. I’ll just coat one of those cheap crucibles with gold and it's the protective layer. Voila, done.”

So I pressed my pellet, put it in the crucible, up in the furnace, take it out the next day, while I open the bottom of the furnace, take the supporting rod down, and something is already a little weird, but then that rod comes out and there is no crucible.

Jim happened to be in the lab, so I call him over. We open the top of the furnace and look in with a mirror and, sure enough, my crucible is stuck in the middle of the furnace against the furnace tube wall.

He takes a rod and pushes it out and out it comes. It's half crucible, still with a little gold flitter on the top and the other half is an ugly lump, where my sample had reacted with the crucible wall that formed liquid then stuck the whole thing conveniently against the furnace tube wall.

So now I’ve got to replace the furnace tube, a few hundred dollars down the drain, and the furnace was down for a few days.

I really expected my lab mates to be upset about this, but they sauntered over, had a look and chatted a bit, laughed and joked, but I just couldn't get over it and was like, "Why was I so stupid? What was I thinking? And why didn't I think this through before?"

Jim looked over. I think he could tell that I was still berating myself. So, he comes and says, “You know, we are doing science here in the lab. That means doing stuff that we don't know the outcome. Sometimes we succeed and sometimes we fail, and that's completely okay.”

That's my story.