There’s No Place Like Home

Several months ago we were treated to what had to be one of the more bizarre publicity stunts I’ve seen in a while. Elon Musk, business magnate (think billionaire) and owner of Tesla Inc launched his enormous new rocket, the Falcon Heavy as part of his recent endeavor for SpaceX, a company he created, to usher in the future among the stars (Mars in particular) that we’ve all been dreaming of.

As the payload for the test launch of this mammoth creation, Elon placed a cherry-red Tesla roadster complete with a space-suited mannequin at the wheel inside the capsule of the payload rocket and blasted it off to a presumed rendezvous with the planet Mars (or at least show he could get it out that far). Pundits lost no time in speculating whether this was a legitimate scientific effort or just a weird art statement by Mr. Musk.

Elon is of an older world outlook which envisions a Star Trekky universe where humanity zooms about the cosmos pursuing whatever destiny has in store for us. Part of this vision includes human colonies on Mars. He’s already stated we should have had a moon base by now and has begun calling for one (I’m guessing he’s going to offer his services in its construction.)

There are some significant problems with the blithe assumption that it is somehow predestined that humanity will launch itself from Earth as easily as it did from the sea shores where it launched its ocean borne vessels. As some of you have already noticed, the promise of flying cars, floating cities, faithful robot servants and other Jetson-like gimmicks have not quite come to fruition despite after fifty years of promises.

Money is a big factor. It just costs a hellacious amount of money to finance any of these amazing creations. The second law of thermodynamics puts more than a few constraints on our ability to even produce these visions of the future. But the modern day fascination with the concept of progress blinds us to the reasons many of us are still chugging along in a gas powered auto instead of flitting about high above in our flying cars. Tom Wessels in his book The Myth of Progress, discusses the numerous problems with this world view and why it is having a devastating impact on the environment and on ourselves.

Planting a working colony on Mars is fraught with issues. Since Mars has a very thin atmosphere, there’s nothing to shield against dangerous radiation both solar and cosmic so initially the colonies would have to be underground. To understand how problematic that is, we only need to take a look at the science outposts located in Antarctica.

Here is about the closest we can get on Earth to the situation on Mars. Even with breathable air and water fresh enough to drink (once you melt it first), life at the bottom of the world is grueling. Since Antarctica is not the balmiest place, everything must be brought in; food, medicine, equipment etc. Brutal weather conditions can keep researchers trapped at the stations for weeks, even months and cabin fever can produce strange mental symptoms.

Alcoholism and drug use is not unusual as a means of combatting boredom but it’s not the sort of thing you want to see on a bright shiny space colony. If you have a medical issue, you are really in a pickle. A few years back the news reported the frightening ordeal of a doctor stationed in Antarctica who discovered she had breast cancer and had to self-treat her condition before it became possible to airlift her out. Space enthusiasts might make the case that the Martian colony will be well supplied with all the necessaries of life. But how long will that take? Will such a colony ever really be self-sufficient? What happens if there’s a war back on Earth and the supply lines get cut off?

I am all in favor of space exploration while it’s still feasible to do so. But we need to be realistic. We’re not gods and must perpetually struggle with the physical restraints that the universe imposes on us. Robot proxies in the forms of Pioneer, Voyager, Cassini and others have given us marvelous pictures of what lies out there and will continue to do so without putting human life and sanity at risk. Mars may be a fascinating place to visit but nobody really wants to live there. As the character Dorothy Gale said at the ending of the Wizard of Oz, “There’s no place like home!”

Holidays

With the first day of spring looming I always think with amusement about the big holiday. No, not Christmas or Thanksgiving. I mean Groundhog’s Day. It’s more than a little mystifying as to why so much fuss is made about whether or not the woodchuck (…sorry, groundhog…) see his shadow or not. If you count off the number of weeks between February 2nd and the first day of spring , it’s always six weeks. So it doesn’t really matter if he’s got a shadow. The concept of Groundhog day originally came over with German immigrants. I don’t think it was even that big a deal to them but the whole thing got a shot in the arm when the movie starring Bill Murray premiered back in 1993. For whatever reason, holiday starved Americans latched onto the date and now we see men in dated costumes hauling out a bemused woodchuck to the flash of cameras and cheering onlookers.

There are plenty of other holidays both major and minor before the onset of spring. Valentine’s Day is always a big one with the heart themed candy landing on store shelves almost as soon as the Christmas sweets have been cleared away. It’s a safe bet the original Valentine, an ancient Christian saint would be aghast at the commercial hedonism associated with the holiday at one time dedicated to him. Nowadays its Christian origins have been forgotten. Instead we see shelves of greeting cards expressing romantic sentiments as well as boxes of chocolates and assorted gewgaws which get shuffled to the markdown table once February 14th has flown by.

Mardi Gras or Fat Tuesday is another holiday celebrated with great abandon the day before Ash Wednesday which oddly enough this year fell on the same day as Valentines. Sometimes called Shrove Tuesday, it’s the last day before Lent and is a time of feasting and carnival (depending of the customs of the country celebrating) before beginning the solemn time of fasting and penance that characterizes Lent. If you watch the shenanigans in New Orleans you will witness wild floats, even wilder costumes and in some areas the ‘custom’ of tossing beaded necklaces to ‘ladies’ in the crowd who have bared certain portions of their anatomy. You’d never know there was a religious background to any of these festivities.

Then of course there is Saint Patrick’s Day. Officially a Christian feast day, it’s as much a celebration of Irish identity as it is the accomplishments of the saint it is named for. Thanks to the diaspora from Ireland back during the Great Famine it nearly became a national holiday with parades, sporting shamrocks and an emphasis on the color green that even involved pouring a vegetable based dye into the Chicago river to turn it the appropriate color for Saint Paddy’s Day. As with all other occasions that have fallen into the hands of the merchants a deluge of t-shirts, trinkets, etc has followed, none of which really has anything to do with the original holiday.

So why holidays? And more to the point how do we get away from the crass commercialism that seems to afflict both major and minor ones? It helps to recall why holidays existed in the first place. The word ‘holiday’ originates from any early English word meaning ‘holy day’. As implied it was a day set aside when no work was done and religious events (Christmas or Easter) were observed. Many religions besides Christianity have holidays. They all served the purpose of promoting social cohesion and allowing a break in the routine of daily life.

Now the meaning of holiday has become conflated with the idea of vacation. Vacation is something that arose with the Industrial Revolution when people began working at jobs that took them away from home and family. Prior to that, it was largely the wealthy that could go on trips or have leisure time. Work not only cut into family life but social life as well. Holidays were a means to counteract this, allowing the maintenance of these important human ties.

The commercialism surrounding the holidays can be easily counteracted by ignoring it. Save yourself some money and get back to the basics of why holidays are really important. It’s been pointed out that the traditions which go with the various holidays reinforce the values we deem important, provide role models for the young and help ground us. Traditions can be good medicine to counteract the chaos we see in the world around us. So decorate the tree for Christmas, shoot off fireworks on the Fourth of July or quietly visit a cemetery on Memorial Day while remembering why these various holidays exist.

Weird News

Now for something completely different. We humans are an incredibly inventive species. By that I don’t mean we’re great at devising new machines or developing abstruse scientific theories about the universe. I’m talking about our amazing talent for getting ourselves into all sorts of trouble. The Darwin Awards pay tribute to the ability of humans to remove themselves permanently from the gene pool in ways that leave us in profound awe and deeply grateful we didn’t do anything that dumb.

Of course the Darwin Awards only acknowledge those whose actions lead to their premature demise. There are of course numerous incidents of humans performing acts of remarkable blithering idiocy, abominable dumbness and just plain unadulterated mallet-headedness without getting themselves killed in the process. The vast majority of these incidents go mercifully unnoticed but a few manage to make it into the news and leave us scratching our heads in wonder.

First place in my book goes to a nameless individual who made his way into the local news a few decades ago. The event took place in the White Mountain National Forest, in the area known as the Kancamagus Highway. The main draw of this particular strip of highway is the spectacular display of foliage color which occurs in the fall, attracting many tourists to view nature’s beauty. There’s no distracting tourist traps or other eye-sore businesses to mar the scenery. There are a few rest stops for those who need to answer Nature’s call. They are rustic affairs, resembling cabins with toilets that don’t flush but empty instead into cesspits that are cleaned out by a company hired to handle these matters (nice work if you can get it…).

The particular incident I have in mind occurred when a family of tourists was driving through admiring the foliage when their teenage daughter indicated she had to ‘go’. They pulled into the next rest stop where the young lady went into the women’s facility. As she was preparing to make use of the toilet, she happened to look down into it when lo and behold she saw a man was down inside the cesspit looking back up at her. Those of you with teenage daughters can no doubt imagine the reaction this got. The New Hampshire State police were summoned (not local cops as this is a state park) and sure enough there was indeed a real live man down inside the cesspit.

Now, here’s the thing. In order to get him out, they had to call the business that cleans out the pit as the door leading into it was still locked from the outside. Which of course means there was only one way he could have gotten into the cesspit. Yes…

At any rate once the fellow was extracted from the cesspit, the question naturally arose as to why he was down there in the first place. His story went something like this (my apologies to anyone reading this who happens to be gay). He wanted to use the facilities but had heard those salacious stories about men of a certain gender preference who liked to use rest stops for their romantic trysts. Not wanting to be accosted, he retreated to the presumed safety of the ladies rest room. While changing his clothing, he inadvertently dropped his wedding ring down the toilet so there was nothing for it, he just had to go after it. That was his story.

There were several problems with his account. For one thing when the cesspit company did a search, no ring turned up. When the police did a background check on this fellow, not only did they find he was not married, they also found he was already very well known to the Maine police having been nabbed by them on numerous occasions as a habitual window peeper. So in reality our toilet diver was a sex offender (albeit a minor one). So off to jail he went.

The local New Hampshire WMUR news station (actually our only news station) reported at some length on this story, mainly obsessing about how incredible filthy he was when they got him out and how the police had to put plastic coverings in the squad car to protect the seats (I imagine it was a while before they got the car aired out…). Mostly the reporters seemed to be just plain gobsmacked that anyone would do something like this just to get a peek at naked rear ends.

A more recent story popped up in the news that very nearly edged this one out. That involved a lady from Colebrook New Hampshire who with the assistance of some exceptionally dim minions went out in the wee hours of the morning and dug up her father’s grave. Why did she do this? Well, she was searching for the ‘real will’ which she had come to believe was buried with him (along with a bottle of vodka). Happens all the time, right? Apparently she felt she didn’t get what she thought she should have gotten for an inheritance. So there just had to be a ‘real will’ somewhere and it must have been buried with dear old Dad. So that justified the night-time cemetery visit.

It did no good to insist she had done this in a ‘respectful manner’ and her dad would have been ‘ok’ with this. The New Hampshire court system didn’t see it that way and, no surprise, she was sent to prison. These hijinks didn’t quite have the icky-poo quality of the guy in the toilet story but it did achieve a very close second place. However, the toilet diver may yet be shoved into second place as the grave-digging daughter has since gotten herself in trouble again.  As it looks as if the story hasn’t fully played itself out, she may yet outdo herself and win top billing for weird news. Until someone comes along and tops even her….(and someone always will….)


Oh…My…God……

“The difference between stupidity and genius is that genius has its limits.” – Albert Einstein

Pitchforks and pine tar

One of the more common images brought up when people are said to be fed up with the establishment and starting to revolt is when the pitchforks come out along with the tar and feathers. This image harks back to a time when most people lived on farms and most stuff was made by hand.

Pitchforks are of course farming tools, used to lift or pitch stuff like leaves, hay and rubbish into barns, wagons or composters. The number of tines on the pitchfork can vary from three or four to as many as ten depending on what it is being used for.

   

This is the pitchfork my late father always used. As you can see, it has had a long hard life. I can remember him using this to turn over soil in the garden when I was very little. Given his parsimonious nature, it’s very likely he got it second hand so the fork is probably close to seventy years old. It’s a bit bent and has a fine patina of rust beginning to form on it, but it still has its uses. I use it mainly to stir around stuff in my composter. Since the metal part is cast iron and the handle solid wood, it’s a bit on the hefty side. Should I be inclined to join a revolt, I will probably opt to use one of the lighter cheapie versions sold at Home Depot or Walmart, just to save some wear and tear on my shoulders.

Tar and feathering has long been a popular method of publicly humiliating troublemakers and incompetent politicians, used in conjunction with riding them out of town on a rail (fencing rail, that is). Commonly associated with colonial America, it actually dates back to medieval times as a rough and ready way to deal out justice. It’s important to point out that the tar used for this is not roofing tar which is a petroleum derived product but is actually pine tar.

Pine tar has a long history of many uses, mainly as a preservative for wood and surprisingly a treatment for various skin ailments. It was a frequent ingredient in shampoos for dandruff and soaps for eczema. What makes it as useful as a medium for punishment is the fact that it is very sticky which anyone who has come in contact with pine pitch will know. This made it a good base for the feathers to be glued onto the unfortunate victim and no doubt made it nearly impossible to scrub off afterwards. You had to wait for it to wear off, compounding the humiliation.

Making pine tar, turpentine and similar substances requires a tree which produces resin. Conifers such as cedars, hemlocks, pines and cypresses are all good sources of resin. The Eastern White pine is the most common type around where I live. The majority that I see are second or third growth pines but there are a few more venerable specimens here and there. This one is located near the local high school. It looks to be well over 50 feet tall and is probably around 80 or 90 years old. As long as lightning, high winds or an ambitious logger doesn’t take trees like this out, they can live for many centuries.

White pines provide other useful products such as wood for dwellings, barns, fencing and were once highly valued for masts on sailing ships. As already noted, it has medicinal applications, not just for dandruff but for coughs, bronchitis, laryngitis and chest congestion. The needles are a good source of vitamin C when made into a tea. Even the inner bark is edible, though it may be an acquired taste given that it comes from wood.

They are useful enough so it is worth planting a small grove of them on the back forty (if you have the land that is.) As the production of petroleum declines, resinous conifers like the white pine will regain their value as sources of tar and turpentine. Early settlers routinely made their own and there are plenty of sources both online and in books giving instructions on how to make these products.

Still there’s no beating the old-fashioned entertainment value of tar and feathering your favorite rant-and-rave target. Up until now it looked as if the Orange One was headed for a slathering. However it appears that the governor of New Jersey has now overtaken him with an approval rating already down to 15 percent and a ‘Beachgate’ scandal that is bound to make his popularity tank even further. I have no doubt the POTUS will try to top him, though with what makes me shudder to think. How low will it all go before the tar and feathers finally come out? My recommendation is to stock up on popcorn and wait.

And buy a pitchfork just in case.

The Trouble With Memory

Recently I was loading groceries into my car when a couple drove up and asked where they could find the Middle School. Perhaps because I was slightly distracted by my ambition to get my stuff home and tucked away, I cheerfully gave them directions to the local elementary school. It wasn’t until I drove up a hill near my home and spotted the local junior high that the little light bulb over my head finally flickered on. Oh, yes, junior high – middle school (derp!).

It was embarrassing enough that I had steered that poor couple wrong, but the incident also set off a chain of thought that people around my age (62 years) start obsessing about. Is this the early signs of Alzheimer’s? Probably not, but it’s hard not to have that worry pop up from time to time when minor faux pas like the above occur.

But how worried should we really be when memory failures happen? When you are young, memory failures happen but it’s easy to brush them off. Not so much as you begin aging or watch your parents age and witness the devastating effects of memory loss. My father played the piano and could perform a number of pieces pretty much from memory. However as he got past his seventies and into his eighties, an ominous change came over his playing. He would start off but then begin faltering. After hesitating, he would start the piece over again, sometimes several times in succession. Finally he quit playing altogether. Even with sheet music in front of him, he kept losing track of where he was.

True dementia involves significant deficits which interfere with your ability to function at work or at home. Not all dementias are Alzheimers. There are a variety of conditions which produce similar symptoms. Some are treatable. Others are not. Reading these lists can often be alarming but a simple rule of thumb to remember is this: if you forget where you laid your car keys, that’s plain absentmindedness. But if you have your car keys in hand and can’t remember what they are for, then you definitely have a problem.

In my father’s case, short term memory had taken a hit. Whether this was Alzheimers (he was never diagnosed) or the result of a series of small strokes, is hard to say but the terrible effects on his ability to recall musical pieces or follow sheet music like he used to, clearly showed. In my own case, failing to recall that ‘middle school’ meant the junior high, is more likely due to distraction than to cognitive decline.

So what to do? The Internet is filled with sites advising how to improve your memory and maintain it well into old age. Some of it is obvious snake oil but some sites offer common sense advice that most of us know but don’t always put into practice.

There are several things that stick out. The first is to stop multitasking. Let’s face it. We can’t give 100 percent of our attention to five things at the same time. If you want to do a task well or just keep track of things better, you have to cut back and focus your attention on one or two tasks at a time. You can devote more time to the tasks, do them better and not trip yourself up trying to keep track of too many things.

Another is simply getting enough sleep. It’s easy to underestimate how badly our mental functioning is affected when we don’t get enough sleep. Our ability to focus on tasks, think clearly and most important consolidate memories of events during the day take a major hit when we don’t get enough sleep.

A lot of things conspire to interfere with getting a restful sleep. Certain types of food and drink can interfere with a good night’s rest. Also exercising vigorously before bedtime can cause issues, revving our bodies up for more activity instead of winding down for the night. Bright light can interfere with the body’s sleep rhythms. The introduction of electric lights and later TV and computer screens have disturbed our natural sleep cycle which depends on a regular pattern of light followed by darkness. Outside lights such as street lights, neon lights, or even the headlights of cars passing by can all have a disruptive effect on our sleep.

Last but definitely not least is the importance of social contacts. Having friends, attending social functions (either family related or otherwise). Volunteering for community service or helping out with church or other functions all provide opportunities for interactions both social and physical. Scientists aren’t yet sure of the dynamics behind social interactions and how they reduce cognitive decline but there is clearly a correlation. Interacting with others requires using your brain for social skills. Exercise promotes better circulation for the brain. Volunteering creates a sense of purpose and feeling of achievement that your efforts can actually make a difference for others. Each feeds into the other and helps contribute to a healthier old age. Like a muscle, the brain just needs to be frequently exercised to stay in good shape. Use it or lose it!

So don’t fret about forgetting where the car keys are. Just be happy you can remember what they’re for!