Ah, it was this exact thing that first made me realise that science is, well, pretty cool.
It occurred to me as I was gazing out of the sixth form block window - my version was a bit less plausible, as it involved, for the sake of argument, a light-year long stick, tapping across space in morse code. I ran it by a science-minded mate (who later went off and worked at the CERN particle accelerator, to my eternal jealousy), who got mildly doubtful but a bit excited, so we went off to find a science teacher.
Mr Murdin obligingly demolished my idea in about three minutes of patient blackboarding, with a single equation and a crystal-clear explanation. In those three minutes, my vague ideas of a Nobel Prize and a cushy university chair dissolved into a much more useful appreciation for science, and what it tells us about the world in those (to me) incomprehensible formulae.
Too late for my science GCSE (though I did okay in a John Searle 'Chinese Room' kind of way), and too late to change my arty farty A-Level choices, but soon enough for me to change a lot of my opinions about things I assumed that, because I didn't understand them, were meaningless.
Good old Mr. Murdin. Good old science.