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Coming of age

May 20, 2013

On Sunday I attended the annual “Coming of Age” service at the University Unitarian Church, where 9th-graders offer brief statements on how they define faith for themselves. Many were quite insightful.

One of my favorite speeches emphasized making the most of today, rather than dwelling on the past or the future. It’s a very familiar message, but one that bears repeating periodically.

The UU service came a couple of hours after I made my debut as a Master at the Nordstrom’s Beat The Bridge 8K.

Among runners, the word Master has a very specific meaning — 40 years old and beyond — but associate with that are numerous ideas and feelings. For some runners, becoming a Master represents a leveling of the playing field whereby they can let the young kids go and focus on the other Masters. For others, it’s a sort of rebirth — a time to resume serious training and competition after a period of inactivity.

For me personally, the “rebirth” concept was inspiring in the months leading up to my 40th birthday. But now that I have actually arrived at Master-dom, I don’t feel reborn so much as rebuilt with spare parts. I feel OK, but certainly not “as good as new.”

As I prepared for Beat The Bridge last week, I exercised what I thought was admirable caution in my speed workouts. I made them shorter than usual and obeyed “speed limits” so that I wouldn’t strain anything. Nevertheless, my left hamstring was bothered by the mildly uneven surface of Cal Anderson Park’s gravel path and felt slightly gimpy in the following days.

The race went fine. With my time of 25:42, I won the Masters division comfortably over David McCulloch (26:46), Travis Adams (27:13), and Mark Donohue (27:51). But the kids left me in the dust. After 1 mile, my hamstring was not quite normal, and I was already out of contention for the Nordstrom’s gift cards given annually to the top 5 finishers. (I placed 3rd in 2006 and 4th in 2009 and 2010.) The winner, 29-year-old Jordan Horn, ran 23:37.

Thus, as I embark on life as a Master, I don’t feel like a master in the sense of “master of the universe” or “master of disguise.” I’ve managed to regain some speed on a schedule of running every other day, and I may improve further in the coming months. But my very fastest and healthiest days are almost certainly behind me.

As a wise 9th grader once said, I’ll try to make the most of today anyway.

with Health E. Hound
My post-race checkup with Dr. Health E. Hound.

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A heavily encrypted top-secret memo from my son

May 17, 2013

haf a gud brda

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Life on the shelf

May 16, 2013

How much can my bookcase tell you about my life?

my life on the shelf

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Andrew Berry on Alfred Russel Wallace, tweetified

May 4, 2013

Berry gave a wonderful, witty after-dinner talk tonight. My tweets (@trappedinlab) didn’t capture this wonder or wit very well, but here they are (in reverse chronological order, as usual).


8:35pm
Wallace’s reaction to “On the Origin of Species”: admiration. Wallace didn’t think he (Wallace) could have produced something similar.

8:22pm
Berry on teaching: If you can’t interest people in how they evolved, perhaps you should get another job.

8:15pm
Berry is one of the “small-print authors” of the book “How Life Works” by James Morris, Daniel Hartl et al. Evolution is the theme.

8:12pm
Berry’s solutions: (2) Tell stories to engage and inspire.

8:11pm
Berry’s solutions: (1) Thematic Content Management. e.g., Wallace organized The Malay Archipelago thematically, not chronologically.

8:09pm
The challenge (according to Berry):
* So much STUFF to communicate.
* Students who are disengaged, distracted.

8:07pm
And now for Berry’s Wallace-inspired thoughts on teaching biology.

8:06pm
Wallace was also quite modest. He titled his major work on evolution “Darwinism.” He contributed to his own obscurity, Berry says.

8:05pm
Wallace became a spiritualist, and disavowed the role of natural selection in human evolution.

8:04pm
After the co-publication: Darwin knuckled down and published books on evolution.

7:58pm
Wallace was happy to co-publish with Darwin, whom he regarded as a great scholar. He felt happy to have hit the big time, in a sense.

7:56pm
He was rescued after 10 days at sea.

7:54pm
Returning from 4 years of specimen collections in the Amazon, Wallace lost most of his specimens when his boat caught fire!

7:46pm
Wallace, on the other hand, was very interested on “the species problem” from a young age.

7:44pm
For Darwin, the voyage of the Beagle was simply an adventure — a chance to study more natural history.

7:42pm
July 1, 1858: Darwin and Wallace co-present their theory of natural selection at a Linnean Society meeting.

7:34pm
Speaker Andrew Berry went to Darwin’s high school, Shrewsberry School … which Darwin hated.

7:32pm
Why were both discovers of evolution British? In part, the expanse of the British empire allowed both to travel and study extensively.

7:30pm
At Cambridge, Darwin found William Paley’s arguments on Natural Theology (e.g., the watchmaker analogy) compelling.

7:23pm
Berry: Why is Darwin so much better known than Wallace even though they co-discovered evolution?

7:22pm
More on NWBIO 2013 speaker Andrew Berry: http://isites.harvard.edu/icb/icb.do?keyword=k5526&pageid=icb.page264537

7:15pm
Pre-talk activity: the sperm whale tooth for hosting NWBIO is passed from Everett C.C. to this year’s host, Columbia Basin College.

7:11pm
(NWBIO = Northwest Biology Instructors’ Organization = http://nwbio.net )

7:09pm
I was told that Berry’s visit is sponsored by the publisher @WH_Freeman. Thanks, W.H.!

7:07pm
The speaker is Andrew Berry of Harvard, here to help us commemorate the 100th anniversary of the death of A.R. Wallace (1823-1913).

7:06pm
Tonight’s post-dinner talk at NWBIO 2013: “100 years on: Alfred Russel Wallace and a few Wallace-inspired thoughts on teaching biology.”

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Lucky v. Good, continued

April 26, 2013

While on the road with Phil last summer, I made up a couple of stories about a police dog named Lucky and a ne’er-do-well known as Upton O. Good.

At the time, Phil challenged me to create a third story about Lucky that included the following elements: a train full of police dogs, an invisibility potion, and donuts for everyone at the end.

For some reason, those elements didn’t initially coalesce into a coherent story. But this week, faced with a deadline to produce something for Phil’s probable future cousins, Phil and I went back to my previous notes and we cranked out the tale below.


The Case of the Disappearing Donuts
for Karen, Melanie, and Parker
by Greg and Phil

The town of Pendleton, Oregon is protected by a police force of smart, brave humans and dogs. They are really good at solving mysteries and catching bad guys. Last year, however, they had lots of trouble protecting their donuts! They might still be hungry today if not for Lucky, the German Shepherd who leads the Pendleton K9 unit.

The first time the donuts disappeared, it was actually kind of funny. The chief was talking about road repairs and traffic changes when someone noticed that the donut plate was empty.

“Hey, Peabody, why didn’t you save some for the rest of us?” quipped Officer Fernandez.

“It wasn’t me,” protested Officer Peabody. “I didn’t eat a single one!”

“Then what’s that white stuff on your shirt?” asked Fernandez suspiciously.

Peabody looked down. “Um … I think that’s whipped cream from my hot chocolate,” he said sheepishly. Everyone else laughed.

At the all-squad meeting the following week, people watched the donut plate a bit more closely. As the chief began to talk, the donuts seemed to float right out of the room, as if a ghost were carrying them! This time nobody was laughing. In fact, the entire squad was too startled to say or do anything until all the donuts were gone.

“What –- what just happened?” said Officer Yamada at last.

“It has to be some sort of practical joke,” said the chief. “Let’s not worry about it right now. Besides, you guys have been eating too many donuts lately. Maybe this is God’s way of putting you on a diet.”

“But what if somebody is using an invisibility cloak or something?” Officer Costa wondered. “They could use it to steal things that are much more valuable than donuts!”

“You mean like whole cakes?” asked Peabody uncertainly.

“Jewels! Money! Computers! Paintings! Cars!” Costa replied harshly. “Things like that, you nitwit!”

* * * * * *

As it turned out, Officer Costa was almost right about the invisibility cloak. Pendleton’s most notorious thief, Upton O. Good, had discovered an invisibility potion, which he could pour on anything he wanted to make invisible. Himself, for example.

Good decided that, before stealing anything big, he would try to understand the potion better by using it on some different objects. One day he made an entire train car of police dogs vanish as they returned from a training session in the mountains. Fortunately, as the dogs got off the train, a rainstorm seemed to wash away the potion’s effects. Another time Good dumped the potion on Lucky, who remained invisible for three days until, unable to do his regular police work, he went for a swim in the Umatilla River.

After climbing out of the river and shaking himself dry, Lucky noticed that he was back to normal again. Why had the river reversed the potion’s effects, just as the rainstorm had done? Suddenly Lucky had the answer: the potion was counteracted by WATER! Now, how could he get the humans to realize this?

Meanwhile, Good had had so much fun making Lucky disappear that he decided to do it again. The next day, Good first used the potion on himself, then snuck up on Lucky at the police station and sprinkled him with the potion.

This time Lucky knew exactly what to do. He went to his water dish, waited until some officers were in the room, barked to get their attention, and dipped his left front paw in the water dish. It appeared again, like magic! Then he dipped his right front paw, and then his rear paws, and then as much of his belly as he could fit into the dish. Gradually Lucky’s whole body came back into view.

“Holy donuts!” exclaimed an officer. “It’s as if the water makes invisible things visible again!” Lucky barked to tell the officer that she was right.

Now that the human police knew about the water trick, it was time to set a trap for the donut thief.

At the next meeting, a large plate of donuts was set out as usual, and the chief started talking in his usual way. But just as the first donut started to move, the officers drew squirt guns and fired them toward the plate. The dogs provided reinforcement by lifting their legs and spraying.

In a moment their old nemesis appeared in front of them, soggy and grumpy.

“It’s Good!” yelled one officer while another raced forward to handcuff him and escort him to a jail cell.

To celebrate the capture, the chief bought a fresh batch of donuts. There were enough for everybody -– even the dogs.

“Hey, where are the Boston creams?” asked Fernandez. He sounded upset, but was smiling.

“You’d better ask Lucky,” answered Peabody. “He’s the best detective we’ve got!”

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A fake mini-review of “In Search of Santa”

April 14, 2013

In Search of Santa (2004) appears to be a movie for young children. It’s a G-rated cartoon lasting 75 minutes and featuring an abundance of cuddly penguin characters like the protagonists — twin sister princesses voiced by Hilary and Haylie Duff. Yet beneath the crude CGI animation, cliched moral lessons, and preposterous plot twists is a seething, searing indictment of the academic world and its self-important, soulless inhabitants.

The movie’s villains are Agonysla, Derridommis, and Mortmottimes, a trio of royal advisers collectively known as the Terribly Deep Thinkers. As they explain in their theme song, “We’re the Terribly Deep Thinkers/We’re walking almanacs/Our bones are old and brittle/But our minds are sharp as tacks. We’re overeducated/We’re snooty brainiacs/ We possess an excess/Of many useless facts.”

Early in the film the triumverate puts Princess Crystal on trial for the crime of believing in Santa Claus. Later they trap her and her sister, Princess Lucinda, in the Cave of Profundity while publicly declaring the sisters “lost at sea,” thus clearing their own path to the throne in the event of the king and queen’s demise. “You just use big words to hide small thoughts,” Crystal admonishes the trio, yet she and Lucinda appear doomed until — spoiler alert — a precocious baby leopard seal leads the other penguins to the imprisoned sisters, exposing the Terribly Deep Thinkers’ avarice and egotism.

So masterful is director William R. Kowalchuk’s disguise of his anti-intellectualist parable as kiddie entertainment that reviewers have called it “a cheap Saturday morning cartoon slapped together to cash in on the Hilary Duff wave” and “forgettable fare that may only satisfy the youngest and most undiscerning viewers.” Such opinions aside, the sisters’ improbable triumph over the Terribly Deep Thinkers is not simply an instance of Duff-mania gone awry, but rather a wit-seeking missile strike against ivory towers everywhere.

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Baby’s first bar graph

April 11, 2013

Aside from the algebra issue, my kindergartener’s MAP test also made me wonder what he was learning in the area of “Statistics & Probability” (another MAP math sub-score). But here’s a recent homework assignment overseen by his mom — a bona fide histogram of the frequency of red, white, and blue cars parked on the street. Note the expert color coding of the data.

1 car 2 car, red car, blue car

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