Einstein is pacing on a muddy driveway in Bucks County, occasionally stealing kisses from a tall woman, but mostly looking like he’s got somewhere better to be. The clock is ticking on his 15 minutes of fame, and everyone wants a piece: car dealerships, local bars that made drinks in his honor, and even universities that hire him so stressed-out students can pet him before finals. Then there are the nativity scenes. Einstein can’t keep track of all the wise men he’s known, if a camel could keep track of things.
