Science, Travel

Extraterrestrial Extrovert Exclusion Expected

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I’m not against extroverts – quite the contrary.

Yes, of course I’m an introvert and naturally I’m prone to long stretches of uncomfortable silence. That’s why I rely on the extroverts of the world – they keep the conversation going.

It’s the extroverts out of this world that may become the real problem. It seems the ebulliently sociable are on the verge of being excluded from any mission to Mars.

The tiresome effect of introverts and extroverts being in close confines for an extended period of time is a topic we have already explored here. And all indicators suggest the charm of upbeat, chatty people will wear thin during more than a half-year with nothing to comment on but the same black-and-star-speckled scenery.

When desperate to end a conversation, my fall-back is the generic “Well, I gotta go now.” But locked inside a Mars-bound capsule, there’s really nowhere else to “gotta go” to.

Even short trips can seem endless if there’s someone in the car who needs to manufacture conversation. And anyone who has tried to make small talk can recognize the peril here – in the vacuum of space there’s not much to say about the weather after you agree that you shouldn’t open a window because it sucks outside.

Rather than immediately rule out the extroverted for a Mars launch, I wonder if NASA will consider forming an all-extrovert crew. Yes it would be a talkative seven month journey, but perhaps a TV channel could arrange to broadcast the whole thing live. Some outlets don’t have exceptionally high standards – a group of people saying anything energetically is good enough for basic cable.

But here’s the other problem – what happens after arriving on Mars? Introverts will gain back their strength while quietly pondering the alien landscape, but the likelihood is high that extroverts will feel absolutely lost because there’s no one new to meet.

I’m not one to make iron-clad rules and I certainly don’t want to rob people of opportunity based on personal characteristics over which they have no control, but I wonder if space exploration will ever be a good place for extroverts. Yes, they have many positive and endearing qualities and no one can deny that extroverts are wonderful for loosening things up at a party, but as we’ve seen in countless Hollywood movies, aliens may not be open to the kind of congenial welcome we seek.

So dispatching a landing party that’s skilled in glad-handing and back-slapping could backfire in a cataclysmic way. And after all, there’s no guarantee the extraterrestrials will have backs to slap or hands to receive the gladness.

But even if alien forms of life do have these things, why would they accept our overtures? If they are extroverts they would have already come here and introduced themselves.

And if they are introverts, beware! Nothing is more unpredictable than a moody alien, and everybody knows we can come on a little strong.

What sort of road trip companion are you?

The Baboon Congress

Life With Father

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Today’s guest post comes from Renee.

“Renee! That damn dog is looking at me again!!”

I respond to my father’s plaintive cry and remove the dog from the dining room. The cat is allowed to stay. Dad forgives cats for everything. My father believes that our animals should enjoy the bounty of our table, and he shares bits of his meals with them. Dad also believes that the dog should know when he has finished sharing, and she should just leave the room. We explain that she doesn’t think that way, and that he has to stop feeding her from the table if he wants her to leave him alone. As you can see from the photo, she waits patiently nearby while he eats. That is still too much for dad. He says that when an animal looks at him while he eats and he doesn’t feed it, he feels like the people in the parable of the Good Samaritan who walked past the victim and didn’t help. So, I remove the dog.

It has been six weeks since my 93 year old, newly widowed, father moved in with me and my husband. Things have gone pretty well, aside from his strife with the guilt-inducing terrier. He personalized his new room with photos, furniture from home, and mementos, and made it a comfortable nook where he reads, writes letters, and listens to CD’s of his favorite radio preachers. He is appreciative and meticulously clean and tidy. He is frustrated by his diminishing physical strength and his inability to fix things. He is easily hurt by a sharp word, and we need to be very patient as he struggles to understand the complicated business and health issues we discuss. He is usually quite cheerful, though, and remains curious about the world and the people around him.

Living with my father is a balancing act of providing necessary care with as much autonomy as possible. I am thankful that he is independent with all his personal care. I help out by organizing his meds and taking him to appointments and handling his business. Things will change as his health deteriorates from his cancer and cardiac disease and age, but at this point we have a pretty good thing going. He has breakfast with us every morning. He loves French press coffee. We go to work and he potters around until lunch, when we come home to eat with him. We go back to work, and then one of us slips away at 3:45pm to take him to coffee with a group of retired teachers. One of the teachers brings him home, and we meet up with him around 6:00 for supper. He goes to bed pretty early. On weekends he watches us garden. He also planned and directed the transformation of our basement and garage into temples of Dutch order and cleanliness. We have a very Jake-centric household, but that is ok with us. I am thankful that my husband is supportive of our doing this. We are both very fatigued at the end of the day.

Every day when we leave for work we make sure Dad has a bowl of Lindt chocolate truffles on the counter, a beer or two in the fridge, lots of ice cream, and Radio Heartland streaming on the computer. He really likes listening to Jimmy Dale Gilmore and the Wronglers. He knows he is shamelessly spoiled, and repays us with stories. Here is a true one from home about people I know.

Old Johnny B was a farmer and horse trader from Magnolia, MN, born around the turn of the century. (His son Dallas is still alive and went skydiving two years ago on his 95th birthday.) Many years ago Johnny bought a horse from an old German farmer, and when he got the horse home, he put it in the corral and the horse proceeded to walk right into the barn wall. The horse was blind! Johnny confronted the farmer. “Why didn’t you tell me the horse was blind?” The farmer replied in his thick accent “I did! I told you he didn’t look so good!”

I think a story like that makes up for any amount of extra work we have. He has tons of stories, and we will keep the truffles and beer in good supply as long as he can enjoy them.

Share a joke a 93 year-old might enjoy. 

Poems

Opposites Detract

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A new study says polarization has increased in the American electorate over the past 20 years.
More people are hard left or hard right, they have a greater tendency to associate with like-minded people and are more dismissive of those from the opposing camp.

Concerned about this trend and wishing to do something to counteract my worldview-limiting leftward ideological isolation, I reached out to our Trail Baboon poet laureate, Schulyer Tyler Wyler, who has three names that he uses regularly and moneyed relatives so I assume he’s a staunch Republican.

As soon as I noted my concerns about political disfunction and revealed that I have voted exclusively for Democrats in the last four presidential elections, he cut the conversation short and has since refused to deal with me directly, preferring that I communicate with him through Roderick, his minion.

I asked Roderick to relay the message that I wanted a short work of sing-song poetry to lament this destructive partisan trend in our national conversation. Roderick brought back the reply that I could ask for a poem but under no circumstances could I or my “fellow travelers” dictate anything about the content.

I took that to mean it might not be a lament.

The voices of our people rise.
Our minds are all made up.
Our taking points are no surprise.
We simply echo, “Yup”

We are not cattle of the field,
But up our minds are made.
All curiosity, congealed.
All doubts have been allayed.

Don’t think our thoughts inflexible.
Just made, all up, our minds are.
Alternatives are execrable.
Consigned where our behinds are.

I think STW is mocking me here.  Unless he’s agreeing with me.  It’s so hard to tell when you can’t read someone’s label.

What makes you unorthodox?

The Baboon Congress

Baby-Faced Leader

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I got chided on facebook for saying my grandson looks like Winston Churchill. I responded with the old joke that all babies look like Winston Churchill, which only got me in hotter water.

I will let you decide: does he look like Churchill?

Fortunately, which you cannot tell from this photo, his personality is quite the opposite of Churchill’s, who, by all testimony, was a very difficult human being.

Did Churchill look like Churchill as a baby? This is close as I could get.

pix 5

I did an image search to find baby pictures of the great man, and it turned up a host of human and animal lookalikes.

What is interesting is that one of the greatest, most charismatic leaders of history had such a baby face. We now understand that the normal human brain is wired to have a strong positive emotional response to babies and the characteristics of babies. Was that all part of his charisma and power or did he have to overcome it? He was such a polished speaker, who knows what rhetorical art he crafted.

pix 6

I look like a desert hermit, or like George R. R. Martin, but my bank account does not look like his. By the way, for $20,000 to go to a wolf sanctuary, Martin will write you into and give you a grisly death in the next installment of Game of Thrones.

What role does your face fit?

Uncategorized

There’s a Bear in the Words

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Today’s post comes from Bart, the bear who found a smart phone in the woods.

H’lo, Bart here.

Words can hurt.

He Found a Smart Phone in the Woods
He Found a Smart Phone in the Woods

I’m sad about this insensitive DNR press release that came out last week about how people should react to wild bears in Twin Cities suburbs.

For one thing, it lumps together bears and mosquitos because we’re both “unwelcome visitors.” This is unfair. I know mosquitos. I live in the woods! Bears and mosquitos are NOT the same!

Then they compare bears to “a guy wielding a knife”!

What?

Unfair again! If you look inside any suburban strip mall Subway you’ll see a real “guy wielding a knife.” Trust me – I’ve looked inside a lot of them. He’s just slicing the Honey Wheat bread (which I love), and nobody thinks of him as a threat to public safety.

One sad-but-true part is where the conservation officer says suburban bears get shot because “… shooting a bear with a tranquilizer dart, then transporting it elsewhere is mostly Hollywood fiction.”

I know about this because I tried to get a “Tranquilized Bear” role in Hollywood, and Manny, my agent in Los Angeles, says they aren’t writing those parts anymore. Now, the bear roles in the big movies are all like “Marauding Bear,” “Garbage-Picking Bear,” and “Child-Mauling Bear”.

I’m not saying I’m too good for these Bad Bear roles, but c’mon! I spent hours learning how to fall out of a tree because Manny said movie bears have to do their own stunts! But now the goofy, friendly bear character I can totally do is nowhere to be found. Manny saw a script the other day about a bear that gets exposed to radiation at a nuclear plant accident and gets to be 100 feet tall and then terrorizes a National Park.

Why would I do that? I love the National Parks!

Finally, the DNR says this about the sort of bear who might dumpster dive in Blaine:

Most such bears are young males searching for their own territory after emerging from hibernation and being chased off by their parents.

Chased off by their parents?

That’s not how it was put to me.

Mom said: “You should have a little parcel all your own where you can keep things messy the way you like and dad and I don’t have to worry about where you’ve pooped?” Then they gave me a rabbit carcass and promised to come visit!

That’s not “chasing off” somebody! Is it?

Your pal,
Bart

Bart has a point – words matter, and it’s important to be kind. But movies need villains and sometimes your folks do have to chase you off. And face it, we are all creatures who should be handled with care, especially when our paths cross unexpectedly.

What advice should the DNR give about interacting with you?

The Baboon Congress

Mary Poppins in Russia

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Today’s guest post comes from Plain Jane. It was originally part of a conversation on our companion blog, The Baboondocks, related to the sudden shift in King Juan Carlos’ job description. The question was “What is the best job you’ve ever abdicated?”

The best job I ever had was working as an au pair for the Bridges family in Moscow in 1964.

It was a fun job with lots of challenges, satisfaction and privilege. Certainly not a high paying job, but at $90.00 per month and free room and board, all the necessities were covered. The rest was gravy.

Taking care of three kids ranging in age from three to nine was a blast. Mary and Elizabeth, the two youngest, were early risers. By the time I’d get out of bed around 7 A.M. they’d already have played ballerinas for hours and left a trail of fancy dresses discarded on the floor of the hallway. After a breakfast of Danish pancakes, they’d be off to school and daycare, and I’d a have a few hours to do laundry and tidy up our quarters.

After school we’d explore Moscow on foot, by bus, train and embassy car. If I didn’t feel like making them peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch, we’d head for the embassy snack bar where a German cook made wonderful burgers, BLTs and the best German potato salad. Then we’d hang out on the embassy playground in the afternoon. Au pairs from Canada, Australia and several European countries lounging in swim suits on beach towels spread on the ground, watching their charges happily at play.

On days with no school, we’d pack picnic lunches and take the bus and subway to whatever destination struck our fancy that day. One such place was Gorky Park. There we’d while away the hours. Locals – mostly old men drinking Kvass and playing chess at small tables, and work crews of matronly, babushka-wearing women with big shovels for maintaining flower beds would give us curious looks – our brightly colored clothes in stark contrast to their drab hues. Other days we’d go to the Red Square, hike through the Kremlin or explore the banks along the Moscow River.

I’d take a lot of photos on these excursions. Pictures of David staring longingly at a toy train display at the Gum department store on the Red Square, or of Elizabeth posed in front of the Tsar canon inside the Kremlin walls. Snapshots of all three of them in swimsuits, munching on a picnic lunch on a weekend outing to the beach along the Moscow River.

After dinner, bath time and a little horsing around in their pajamas. Then the kids and I would pile into David’s bed for bedtime stories and singing. Of all her obscure childhood memories, Elizabeth wrote me a few years ago, the one that stands out as her fondest is of me singing “Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polkadot Bikini,” to them. To this day it a song that she often hums to herself when cleaning house. She says it cheers her up to remember that summer fifty years ago. And David told me that he still makes those Danish pancakes for his own kids on their birthdays.

That’s a legacy I’m proud of.

What lifelong habit have you inherited from a teacher or caretaker?

Uncategorized

Self-Admiration Society

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Dear Dr. Babooner,

I was recently given the assignment of finding the best-qualified person in the world to take over a very important job at our company. This high-profile position demands a candidate who inspires confidence. I interviewed several people who are quite accomplished and extremely impressive in many key areas that are essential to success in this pivotal role.

We are ALL Dr. Babooner
We are ALL Dr. Babooner

But after careful consideration, I came to the conclusion that none of them were nearly as excellent as me, so I made the inspired decision to award myself the prize I had been asked to give to someone else.

Many have asked – how did I know this was the right thing to do?

Well, it wasn’t a conclusion that would be obvious to the casual observer, but I saw it clearly by using my exceptional powers of deduction. For one thing, in our interviews each candidate was quick to say how pleased they were to meet me.

It was literally the first thing out of their mouths!

This was quite the surprise – I was expecting them to open with some tidbit about why they were the best qualified candidate for the highly prestigious job that only I had the power to award them! And yet each one saw fit to take the time to go into sometimes embarrassing detail about their admiration for me. In fact, prizing me as a role model and an inspiration is the quality that united these very competent individuals – every single one!

That got me to thinking that if these are the best candidates in the world for this job and they’re all impressed with me, maybe that’s a message I should not ignore!

Others have questioned my motives and have suggested that my carefully thought-out choice reveals self-absorption or a total blindness to the usual boot licking that accompanies any hiring process. But my decision makes perfect sense to me, so why should I pay attention to the opinions of people who might be smart in some areas but are permanently handicapped by the undeniable fact that they are not as awesome as I am?

Exceedingly, Magnificently,
More Competent Than Everyone

I told MCTE that self awareness is an important quality for every person to possess. And if it leads you to the realization they you pretty darn great, there’s nothing wrong with saying so in a very public way. Just don’t expect everyone else to agree – they’re not as amazing as you so they may be unable to see it. Pity them and carry on.

But that’s just one opinion. What do YOU think, Dr. Babooner?

Poems, Science

All the Colored Lights

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The latest space sensation is a new photograph from the Hubble Space Telescope that takes in ultraviolet (UV) light along with the infrared and visible light to reveal a deep look at a universe resplendent with thousands of galaxies and a riot of color.

This represents a significant upgrade to the hobby of stargazing.

Don’t get me wrong – I love the tiny pinpricks of light that dot the night sky. Even though my aging eyes are less and less able to see them with each passing year, I do take a moment from time to time to marvel at the pageant overhead.

But I know I’d spend a lot more time looking up if this is what I saw.

Photo by NASA,ESA, H. Teplitz and M. Rafelski (IPAC/Caltech), A. Koekemoer (STScI), R. Windhorst (Arizona State University), and Z. Levay (STScI)
Photo by NASA,ESA, H. Teplitz and M. Rafelski (IPAC/Caltech), A. Koekemoer (STScI), R. Windhorst (Arizona State University), and Z. Levay (STScI)

This is a view to inspire awe and poetry.

Which is unfortunate, because I’m not much of a poet. But I know somebody who is. Or at least I know somebody who thinks he is, which is more than enough because this is a simple blog and not the Norton Anthology of Timeless Verse.

Singsong poet Schuyler Tyler Wyler took one look at the amazing image above and quickly penned a few self-referential lines, which is his habit. He is as fixed in his path as the stars and planets themselves, though much less beautiful when observed deeply.

But there’s one thing this amazing photo has taught me – not to worry about the small things.  The universe is big enough to swallow any poem a human can devise, and it will suffer no ill effects.

Behold!

“The night sky is a wonder!”
the astronomer had said,
as he carefully explained
how starlight shifts from blue to red.

But I wasn’t really listening.
I didn’t truly see.
As I took in all this grandeur
and the tininess of me.

Yes, I know the light reveals
how Heaven’s tapestry is knitted
and the spectrum that we view
is only part of what’s emitted.

But when I stare into space
on any normal summer night
I admit I’m disappointed
that it’s mostly black and white.

Which is why, every December
with the Cosmos overhead
I put all my time and effort
into Christmas lights instead.

How colorful are you?

Uncategorized

Tipping Point

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Today’s post comes from idea man and marketing expert Spin Williams, who is constantly trying to stay ahead of the future at The Meeting That Never Ends.

I’m excited, because giving management advice is always a money maker! That’s why we love, love, love this New York Times article about unhappiness on the job.

It has started a new conversation that’s going to make it possible for us to charge clients some hefty fees! And the basic premise is SO TRUE – everybody is depressed about the way things are going at work.

That’s right – everybody! That’s why I believe we’ve reached an economic and employment tipping point. Everything in the workplace is about to go topsy-turvy, which sounds like a great calamity but it’s actually a wonderful money maker for us if we can spin it right and get enough CEO’s into panic mode!

A couple of years ago in the Bad Old Days when there was no money, I was one of those managers who thought the disgruntled employee set was a bunch of selfish crybabies. Setting up daycare centers, fitness clubs and free transportation for the workforce made no sense to me. “Employee Coddling” is what I called it – a misguided HR strategy that I thought would totally undermine the bottom-line focus of successful corporations.

After all, the business model we inherited from the 19th century is built on exploitation of labor. Every mogul has been taught to consider the workforce with this thought in mind: “If they’re not miserable, we could be making more money!”

But now we know businesses that help employees feel valued and successful are the ones that prosper most. It seems employee coddling can be good for the bottom line! In fact, this particular quote in the New York Times story really hit home:

A truly human-centered organization puts its people first — even above customers — because it recognizes that they are the key to creating long-term value.

Of course! Everything you thought is now the opposite. The employee is now the customer, and a modern workplace should sell their employees the feeling of being valued. Here’s where the math comes in – we’ll create a package of automatically deductible employee fees.

  • Workers can buy a thoughtful boss upgrade.
  • They will be charged a sane workload assessment.
  • And their pay will be docked for the meaningful work surcharge.

And the best part is – if we can get back half their wages through these fees, your business is suddenly breaking even!

This is a genius idea because Americans are so moved to do work that improves the lives of others. So in the future, we advise smart companies to hire people to play the role of grateful customers to help employees feel even better about their jobs!

Yes, I’m promoting the idea that employees will become the firm’s actual customers, and their current customers will become their employees.  In a weird way, it all makes perfect sense, and it’s inevitable!

You probably need our management advice to deal with it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!

Future Ahead, Over and Out,
Spin Williams

What is it worth to feel happy in your work?

Uncategorized

Love For Sale

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Today’s post comes from notorious pirate and Skipper of the Muskellunge, Captain Billy.

Ahoy!

Me an’ me boys had our interest piqued when we learned about th’ Anonymous Rich Person (A.R.P.) what’s hiding money all around San Francisco.

Artists Approximation of Captain Billy
Artists Approximation of Captain Billy

It appears this here moneybags is entertainin’ his or herself by leavin’ clues via Twitter so as t’ guide enterprisin’ strangers t’ secret caches of loot. An’ people is signin’ up fer duty by th’ thousands, happy t’ spend hours playin’ hide an’ go seek fer th’ aforementioned A.R.P.’s dollars.

Since we is primarily in the everyday business of searchin’ fer riches everywhere, all me pirates on board th’ Muskellunge had somethin’ t’ say about this unusual situation.

“Harmless fun,” said me First Mate, Gimpy.

“They’s playin’ at pirates!” said me forward watch, One Eye Pete.

“They’ll never look under the meatloaf,” said th’ cook, Scrambled Leg Peg.

Nobody seen nothin’ suspicious in this here money hidin’ scheme – they seen it as just a good bit of entertainment fer th’ bored landlubbers.

But that’s because they ain’t Captain of this here ship! As Captain, I’m well aware of what it takes t’ secure the loyalty of fickle followers. An’ that’s why I suspects this here is a clandestine bid t’ buy an’ keep th’ allegiance of San Franciscans, an’ beyond them, th’ world!

An’ who, you may ask, would operate such a dastardly scheme? I thinks th’ culprit is obvious, an’ he’s hidin’ in plain sight. I respectfully draws yer attention t’ th’ discussion we had mere weeks ago regardin’ th’ mysterious whereabouts of Putin’s Gold.

Aye! Th’ A.R.P. is none other than Russian National Skipper Vladimir Putin!

Nonsense? No, I say! Think!

Putin is reviled all over th’ world. His wealth is under attack by powerful nations an’ monetary agencies that has th’ wherewithal t’ freeze it fer good. If you was bent on world domination an’ had one last chance t’ spend yer dough before it got seized, what would ya do?

Use it t’ buy followers, of course!

An’ when it comes t’ hearts an’ minds, no one is more open t’ conversion by way of dollars than th’ American people. So as Obama’s approval numbers drop, Putin will win new sympathizers with every clue he tweets. Who knows, he could wind up wi’ real political clout, or at least a guest shot on Dancin’ W’ Th’ Stars. But I don’t have any doubt he’s usin’ strategically placed sums to buy his way t’ respectability an’ influence.

An’ there’s nothin’ more American than that!

Yer suspicious pal,
Capt. Billy

What would it take to buy your loyalty?