Dearest Neil deGrasse Tyson,

I had to let you know how excited I am for Valentine’s Day and hearing you speak at the Winspear Opera House on the importance of scientific understanding. I hope you wear that planet-themed necktie I love so much. You know how it really gets me seeing stars.

Your space jokes. Oh, and the way you wax poetic about the cosmos. And those ties. What is it about those science museum gift-shop ties? Sure, you’re the nation’s top celebrity astrophysicist and cosmologist. But, I guess you know by now, I’m also asking you to be my lab partner for the night. I mean, if that’s even an option.

I’ll be sure to brush up on my knowledge of the universe, the planet and what we can do to further the future of science education. I know how much that means to you because I read a little article in Business Insider stating your opinion of the country’s current state of scientific illiteracy:

“The consequence of [scientific illiteracy] is that you breed a generation of people who do not know what science is nor how and why it works. You have mortgaged the future financial security of your nation. Innovations in science and technology are the [basis] of tomorrow’s economy.”

For a cosmologist, you really do have a way with words.

I hope your lecture will also include your musings on the absurdity of the government’s denial of climate change. Nothing would warm my heart more than hearing of your conclusive evidence proving the destructive effects currently afflicting our planet are both man-made and avoidable.

And let’s talk about the backlash you received after Pluto’s demotion from planet to dwarf planet.

Those critics are silly.

You didn’t even make the call, according to The Verge, a news outlet covering the science and technology of the world. In fact, it was Mike Brown, an astronomer who wrote “How I Killed Pluto and Why It Had It Coming.”

But you defended the decision by saying: “If Neptune were analogized with a Chevy Impala in mass, then how big is Pluto compared to that? Pluto would be a matchbox car sitting on the curb.”

Oh, Neil. I would travel to the farthest and darkest regions of the galaxy for you. You expand my universe and dampen my brain with dopamine.

Yours forever,