Now We’re Cooking!

It’s prehistoric remains week here at Trail Baboon. Yesterday we considered the ramifications of some ancient teeth uncovered near Tel Aviv that may upend our understanding of who was where, when.

Today comes news that our ancient, now extinct near cousins, the Neanderthals, were not the brutish, meat-only diners that many had assumed, but in fact, ate plants, and some of those plants were cooked. This is yet another step in countering the popular cultural image of the Neanderthals as dopey cavemen who were too backward and unimaginative to survive. The new vision of Neanderthals sometimes eating vegetables rather than always ripping apart some unfortunate ungulate (Elk again, mom? Really?) and devouring it raw gives us a more nuanced understanding of who they were.

Sophisticated eaters and engaging dinner companions whose laughing eyes were unfortunately shaded by their prominent foreheads. I’m sure in the years to come we’ll learn more about Neanderthal dining habits, including some of their favorite recipes:

Alley Oop Salad
Cave Dweller Cole Slaw
Bedrock Vegetarian Chili
Clubbed Squash

And my new favorite – Neander Valley Tabouli

2 cups seed of rough grass from mouth of cave
2 cups very hot water from fire keepers
1 bundle green stuff from underside of log, chopped
2 small crunchy ground melons, chopped
1 bunch ferns, (8) sliced
1/2 cup fresh chopped rotten bark flower (NOT the red one)
2 cups fresh chopped children of vine that grows up side of rock
1 clove smelly root, minced (optional)

Dressing: 1/2 cup juice of tiny yellow sun,
3/4 cup slippery juice from tree berries,
1 tablespoon tickle nose powder (black),
2 teaspoons seawater (with water removed).

Soak the grass seed from mouth of cave in hot water until mixture cools. Squeeze like helpless enemy caught in battle.
Use sharp edged rock to attack ground melons, ferns, rotten bark flower, vine children, smelly root and green stuff. Leave no survivors. Gather remains into bowl with grass seed.
Mix sun juice, slippery juice, nose powder and no water seawater. Pour over mixture.

Defend with unchecked ferocity from all interlopers and predators.

What’s the oldest recipe in your day-to-day repetoire?

Open Wide!

Here’s a late dispatch from enterprising freelance journalist Bud Buck, who in the best developing tradition of online media, makes his living re-reporting the work of other people. Bud’s note with this piece says he’s “trying a new, ground-breaking, personal style of reporting” that will make it necessary for me to double his usual fee.

When news broke that cave excavating scientists in Israel have identified 400 thousand year old remains from homo sapiens, I recognized the importance of the find right away. Previous research placed the earliest version of modern man in Africa just 200 thousand years ago. This find, if it bears up under further scrutiny, would double the length of known human history and might move the origins of man off the African continent completely. Amazing!

I rushed to find a reputable scientist who was also talkative enough to give me all the quotes I needed to write something that looked like a complete story. Alas, it’s a holiday week in the USA and even the archaeologists are at home with their families, or else stuck at the mall returning shirts that are too nice to wear in the field and not boring enough for use in the lab.

Reviewing the initial story from the Jerusalem Post, I noticed that the remains in question amounted to just eight teeth. Teeth! My dentist, Dr. Jim Jevitas, has an on-call “meet you anywhere” service designed for times just like this. I phoned him and he was pleased to rendezvous at a local coffee shop as long as I paid his standard holiday rates for a check up and light cleaning.

While he was setting up his dental tools and a very, very bright light that ran off a car battery he tucked underneath our table, I told Dr. Jevitas about the remarkable find in Qesem Cave, just 12 miles from Tel Aviv. The Doctor shocked me with the pronouncement that this sounded like the scientists had actually uncovered the site of one of the first suburban dentist offices.

“Patients always like it when you can give them free parking,” Dr. Jevitas said. “That’s human nature, don’t you think? Especially during a difficult procedure like getting a root canal, you don’t want to have to go plug a meter. I’m guessing that’s why they didn’t find this office right in the city. Open!”

I opened my mouth and the Doctor poked around my molars with a very, very sharp thing I couldn’t see. He muttered some things I didn’t hear clearly about my gums and flossing. My mind was reeling with images of a 400 thousand year old suburban dentist’s office. How did they numb the patients? What were the waiting-room magazines like? As soon as I had a chance I told him everything I knew about the remains. He was intrigued.

“Hmm. Interesting. The teeth were just lying there on the ground? That’s unusual. We put ours in a little drawer, but I suppose after 400 thousand years a lot of the furnishings in the office have worn out and even turned to dust. I’m guessing this ancient dentist didn’t work with many children, since the kiddies always want to take their teeth home to leave for the tooth fairy. I’ve heard of adults-only practices, but it’s no way to make money. Grown-ups are scaredy-cats and a lot of them won’t make an appointment. Open!”

I opened my mouth and the Doctor did some scraping and digging that made me almost as uncomfortable as the people at the table next to us. I had nearly enough material to make an article – all I needed was something possibly controversial – a quote casting a bit of doubt on the whole thing. After rinsing and spitting into the Doctor’s now-empty coffee cup, I told him the lead archaeologist on the project, Dr. Avi Gopher, was quoted saying “Further research is needed to solidify the claim.”

“Hmmm,” said Dr. Jevitas. “Dr. Avi Gopher sounds like a made-up name for an archaeologist. He is either a totally fictitious character, or a very patient man. Are you sure you didn’t read about this in The Onion?”

And then he shocked me again when two of the metal clasps on my boot contacted the posts of the car battery under our table. The very, very bright light went out, the coffee shop manager came over, and our meet-you-anywhere dental appointment was over.

Good news! I don’t have any cavities! This is Bud Buck!

I’m not sure I’ll pay Bud the extra money he wants for this story, though it does sound like the interview was a very expensive one to get. Still, it makes me wonder.

What interesting artifacts would a future archeologist find in the remains of your home?

Winning The Weather Game

Big idea guy and self-described “Adventure Capitalist” Spin Williams has been watching the weather for an investment opportunity. I have a feeling he’ll soon be underwriting shovel brigades on the Russian tundra.

Here at the meeting that never ends, we’re excited to hear about the tremendous blizzard hitting the East Coast. For that matter, we’re thrilled about all the other blizzards and prodigious snowfalls that have been happening worldwide, causing droopy domes, travel problems and airports that resemble youth hostels with people sleeping everywhere! What fun!

And I don’t say that just because I’m in sunny California. Los Angeles hasn’t been very sunny of late, what with all the pre-melted blizzards we’ve had in the past few weeks. They arrive like they have been shot out of a fire hose. Whee!

But anyone who knows me also knows I’m always looking for something new – something that affects the way people see the world and alters their behavior. The leading edge of change – that’s where I make my living.

The thing that caught my attention was this commentary in the New York Times where a climate scientist named Judah Cohen makes the case that global warming is actually the cause of this recent wave of extreme wintry weather. Warmth leading to cold? Consider my mind officially boggled! And not only that – he contends that one key, but overlooked, aspect of the Rube Goldberg Contraption that is our world’s weather is the snow cover in Siberia!

I’ll spare you a detailed explanation, but basically the bowling ball of melting polar ice runs into the plate glass window of atmospheric moisture, releasing the swinging weight of increased precipitation which, in it’s pendulum-like rocking, pulls back the spring loaded boot of Siberian snow cover, which kicks down the line of dominos that is the jet stream, toppling the last domino into a confetti- filled bowl that represents the arctic air mass which then jiggles its way down the slippery ramp that doubles as the face of North America, tripping a switch that starts the table fan of colliding cold and moist weather systems, thereby tipping the bowl over in front of the aforementioned fan, which leads to a sudden explosion of white flecks everywhere in the room.

Or something like that.

Anyway, my “take away” from Mr. Cohen’s article is this – if we want to clear the snowy streets of New York in December, we have to dig out Novosibirsk in November. And I don’t mean plowing out the major arterials, I mean de-icing and un-whitifying the whole place. Maybe you do it with massive trucks and salt, or shovels, or flamethrowers. I don’t know. Or else you cover over that reflective snow with big solar energy absorbing fabric panels, like the fence that guy Christo put up.

Is it a big job? Sure, but by taking on the big jobs, you can make a big difference! Here’s the encouraging part – Russian snowplow drivers are a lot cheaper to hire then the ones that work for NYC. And they’re already positioned right where we need them! Finally, a kind of “outsourcing” that really makes sense!

How many hundreds of millions would businesses and residents along the prosperous north east coast of the USA pay to avoid what they’re going through today? Heck, if we could just get the financiers on Wall Street and the cast of Jersey Shore to put up a small portion of their combined wealth, I’ll bet The Siberian Sunshine Company (TM) would turn an immediate profit! Investors, form a line!

Another over-the-top notion from a guy who never stops figuring the angles. My only “take away” from Spin’s idea is that the world’s weather could have been designed by Rube Goldberg. Interesting concept, but probably not even close to the truth. Winter weather is much more complicated and a lot less fun than Goldberg contraptions, which are only baffling for the sake of being baffling, and typically do not lead to the shut down of major cities.

What part of your life is Rube Goldberg-esque?

God Bless Us, Every One!

What a relief to wake up and realize that it is Christmas morning and the spirits did it all in one night! We didn’t miss it! Cut to the happy ending!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zWdJ1EXf5zo

Have you ever had the pleasure of delivering a good surprise?

Yet Another Visit From St. Nick

Yes, he comes every year. If we’re lucky, this year will be a lot like last year, and the year before and the year before. I know I always expected to find some Silly Putty and Chap Stick in my stocking every Christmas morning, and as long as I was patient and believed in Santa, I was never disappointed.

In the great tradition of tradition-keeping, I’ll reprise an old bit of holiday doggerel from 1994. This is intended to keep the spirit of Clement Moore alive through sheer spite. Wherever he’s buried, the ground above is warm – the result of friction from a body spinning in its grave and the heat generated by the large amounts of psychic energy that it takes for a dead man to plot revenge.

I would not be surprised some midnight when mama’s in her kerchief and I’m in my cap, to find Clement Moore shaking his fist and railing at me from the front lawn. I picture him rising from his long winter’s nap to spend a single night plaguing everyone who has ever mocked him. But given the number of times his old poem has been parodied, he’d have a very, very busy time of it.

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
every door had been locked by myself or my spouse.
I shut off the lights and proceeded to arm
our state-of-the-art infrared burglar alarm.

I thought not of peace though it was Christmas Eve.
For the nighttime brings anger, or so I perceive.
A regular, permanent case of the blues
I contracted from watching the 10 o’clock news.

When out in the yard there arose such a din
I jumped up real quick (for the shape that I’m in).
First to the window I flew at a run
And then to the phone to dial 9-1-1.

For what I had seen was so very bizarre
Should I call out the cops or the state DNR?
A musher and dogs from some marathon race
were lost and had somehow wound up at my place.

Eight dogs in the snow – they were icy and furry.
They must have been racing … they looked in a hurry.
And the guy in the sled was a sight in himself.
I expected Will Steger … He looked like an elf!

I opened my mouth to say, “Buddy, move on
before all your animals ruin my lawn!”
When all of a sudden … this plump little guy
called out to his dogs and they started to fly.

“Now Lassie, now Fido, now Benji and Bowser!
On Beethoven, Petey and Pluto and Towser!
Pull back your ears and put down your tails!”
And they took to the wind as though they had sails!

And then I could hear it … the physical proof.
The dogs and that sled were destroying my roof!
He came down the chimney! I swear this is true.
He grunted and struggled to squeeze through the flue.

His eyes were so jolly, his beard white like cream.
He stepped into the infrared burglar beam.
The place just erupted. The siren went wild.
St. Nicholas chuckled. He winked and then smiled.

“You’re crazy!” I told him. “The cops will be here!”
He just shook his head. St. ick felt o fear.
“I know eery cop between here and beyond.
I trip every alarm and they never respond.”

“I used to just enter wherever I please,
But I got tired of hearing ‘POLICE, Fasto. FREEZE!”
And so to avoid an embarrassing mess
I get legal search warrants for every address.

He showed me his papers, then emptied his pack.
“Some homeonwers fire. I never shoot back.
These days the generous have to be brave.”
Then back up the chimney he went with a wave.

On the roof I heard scraping, the tearing of shingles,
then running and barking and shouting and jingles.
And I heard him exclaim as they started to soar …
HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALLLLLLLL!”
Then they landed next door.

If you could visit every home on earth tonight for the purpose of leaving a gift – the very same one in each house – what would it be?

Hum For Your Health

Some recent studies have indicated humming could be a technique to combat chronic sinusitis.

What’s the connection? Researchers found that humming apparently increases the flow of air in the sinuses. This was deduced in one study by measuring the amount of nitric oxide in air exhaled by people who had been humming. Nitric oxide is produced in the sinus cavities (who knew?) and a sharp increase in the amount coming out of those hummer noses led to the conclusion that the sinuses were getting extra ventilation when subjects engaged in some closed-lip karaoke.

What the studies DIDN’T report – the nature of the tunes being hummed. Can you force enough air into your sinuses with classical, or would the blues do a more effective job? How about heavy metal? Can you hum that?

Personally, I would go for the ventilating power of a big Broadway number like the title tune from Oklahoma. Although you’d only be humming it, you could imagine these rhino-centric words as a form of self-medicating parody.

Aunt Eller:
There’s pressure in the cavities behind my nose.

Andrew:
My face is achin’. I cain’t get a grip.

Laurey:
Might be comin’ down with somethin’, I suppose.

Curley:
Probably a case of that postnasal drip.

Company:
Nasal drip!
Nasal drip! Gonna be a trip!
Gonna give you headaches. Headaches and secretions.
Just like Alexander
Gave to them Phoenicians.
Feelin’ like your skull is in a workbench vise,
Plenty of pressure. Ain’t so nice.
Plenty of coughing. I feels hot.
Plenty of pain and plenty of snot.

Sinusitis! Inflammation. Constant pressure. Pain!
Where the mucus flows out of my nose
And it soaks the ground like April rain!
Sinusitis! Decongestants? Go ahead and try!
Cause ya cain’t replace yer throbbin’ face.
It’s enough to make ya wanna cry.

We know this is all in our head
And it makes us all wish we wuz dead.
And when we say
Yeeow! Ayipioeeay!
We’re only sayin’
Leave me alone Sinusitius!
Sinusitis, go ‘way!

Do you like to sing or hum to yourself? Out loud?

In This Together

As you might have guessed, yesterday’s news coverage of the census totals and the resulting discussion about the migration of power and influence southward and westward has drawn a response from Minnesota’s 9th District Congressman (representing all the water surface area in the state), the Honorable Loomis Beechly.

Congressman Beechly Addressing Constituents

Dear 9th District Constituents,

There has been a lot of prideful crowing over the past 24 hours from Minnesotans who say they are glad not to have lost a Congressman when the new census numbers were released.

I’m glad too. ‘Musical Chairs’ is a mean spirited game that injures people both physically and mentally, and I did not relish the thought of playing against the likes of Michele Bachmann and Keith Ellison. They are fierce competitors. And what could be more hurtful to one’s self-esteem than to be told “there is no longer a seat for you” and then to be forced out because you are too slow to get your butt in the chair before someone else, and all this while music plays and people laugh? Horrible.

But I would like to point out one thing which I find interesting – yesterday was the only day in the last decade when the national consensus seemed to be that Congressmen are a valuable resource worth keeping around.

There, I said it.

Most of the time we Congressmen are mocked, belittled, disparaged, dismissed and disrespected. Usually, “Congressman” is used as a code word for someone who is vain, self-interested and vacuous. We are described as people without conviction who can be bought and sold. Congressmen are below car salesmen on the trustworthiness scale, and in this economy we also outnumber them.

So it did my heart a world of good to hear cheerful people laughing and congratulating each other for keeping our congressional delegation intact. Finally, for a moment at least, I felt like a valued member of an important team. I hope this is the beginning of a new way of thinking about our political representatives, honoring them for their commitment to public service in spite of any differences we may have on specific issues. And for representatives, voters and media alike, may this episode usher in a time when we no longer feel compelled to use mean words and gross generalizations to tear each other down in order to maintain our influence!

Kind Regards,
Hon. Loomis Beechly

P.S. – Some have noted that virtually every news story yesterday asserted that Minnesota has 8 Congressional districts, not 9. As the 9th district Congressman, what can I say? You know how inept the mainstream media can be when it comes to numbers. All reporters should be required to pass a 5th grade proficiency test in math! And the unfortunate fact that my legislative colleagues did nothing to correct these errors is an affront to residents of the 9th district and qualifies as a bona-fide cheap shot. Will these vain, self-interested and vacuous manipulators stop at nothing to marginalize us? Here at this time of greatest annual population on the water surface area of Minnesota (think ice fishing houses), this slight will be remembered and there may well be consequences in 2012!

Are you good at musical chairs?

Good Weather: “I’m Fed Up”

After three straight days of headline news about the worldwide antics of Bad Weather, a frustrated sibling challenged the media, particularly those that cover the family business, to “stop enabling this extreme behavior.”

At a hastily called press conference on a bright beach in Belize, Good Weather uncharacteristically blasted the world’s press for focusing almost exclusively on blizzards, rain storms and cold snaps that have interfered with air travel and inconvenienced millions of people across Europe and the United States this December.

“What does it take to get a little attention?” the sunniest offspring of the Weather clan hotly asked reporters. “I’m keeping the skies crystal clear over Hawaii and all I hear is how they’ve got too much rain in Los Angeles. I whip up some mild, fragrant breezes in Tel Aviv and there’s a live shot on ESPN of people pushing snow off fake grass in Minnesota. A bunch of travelers get stuck in airports all over Europe and it leads the news. Meanwhile, the neighbors of those very same people are relaxing on a patio in Thailand, enjoying tropical fruit drinks and an amazing sunset they’ll remember forever, thanks to ME, and there’s not a mention of it anywhere – not even in a friggin’ blog, the lowest form of news coverage on the planet.”

During this tirade, a brief thunderstorm erupted on the beach, sending reporters scurrying to the hotel lobby. The episode quickly turned to a light mist, followed by rapid clearing and a breathtakingly calm twilight perfect for a romantic walk in the surf, but by then the world’s media had started their bar tabs and many refused to return to the outdoor briefing room.

In a press release distributed at the bar an hour later, Good Weather apologized for the outburst but noted that “my best attempt at producing something inclement only led to a more beautiful evening,” and warned the media that rewarding Bad Weather’s “over-the-top, attention-hogging theatrics that create crop damage, erosion, destruction of property and massive population displacement” will only lead to more of the same.

Efforts to contact Bad Weather for a comment were unsuccessful, as most of its locations were under some sort of service outage yesterday.

Mother Earth declined to express an opinion on the disagreement, but pointed out that the Weather family is quite extensive. In addition to Good and Bad there are more moderate siblings, Mild, Heavy, Beautiful, Rough and Balmy. “Bad and Good have always been carping at each other and begging for attention,” said the matriarch of the Weather family. “I love all my children. Good has always been best behaved but is extremely sensitive, and Bad is by far the most interesting.”

Who was the favored sibling in your family?

The Grand Convergence

Tonight the moon will pass through the Earth’s shadow, and if you have a good look at it, you will be able to clearly see that the moon appears to disappear completely. And then it comes back. At a time in history when people did not understand why this was happening, a lunar eclipse caused great fear and consternation, especially among creatures who still had their amygdalas (see the weekend post). Some believed that a dragon was swallowing the moon, and they fired cannon blasts to scare the creature away.

Human history tells us that in the absence of an explanation, one will be created and blame will be assigned accordingly.

Courtesy Nasaimages.org

On the very same day as tomorrow’s lunar eclipse, our hemisphere will be leaning away from the sun at its sharpest angle of the year and the winter solstice will occur. Daylight will be brief and nighttime long. People once thought this was an indication that the division between our world and the spirit world was stretched very thin, and mischief was somehow more likely at this time than at any other. Noisy parties were held to keep the demons at bay. But now we are wiser, and we know noisy parties are where mischief tends to happen, especially if it’s been a hard year at the office and certain people (we won’t name any names) wind up holding too many drink tickets.

Every so often we get this kind of cosmic convergence and much is being made of the fact that a total lunar eclipse and the winter solstice haven’t happened on the same day since well before any of us were born (456 years ago) and won’t happen again until most of us are good and dead (2094). If being alive for this conjunction is on your “bucket list”, congratulations. You made it. But if you live in the Twin Cities and actually want to SEE the eclipse, you’ll probably have to leave town to get out from under the clouds and snow. But that simply adds to the opportunity. You could wind up seeing a total lunar eclipse, experiencing the winter solstice AND sleeping in a room at he Motel 6 in Fort Stockton, Texas, all in the very same day. Trifecta!

I am not sure why so much attention is paid when planets line up in a row or eclipses coincide with other astronomical events. The universe has lots of shining, spinning things that rotate around one another and cast shadows. Stuff is happening all the time. Perhaps tomorrow is also the day some distant star goes supernova, but we won’t know about it for millions of years. Well, WE won’t know about it at all. But maybe some Earthing will, eventually, and they may track the explosion back to that crazy moment in 2010 when there was an eclipse and a solstice on the same day.

In case the record is closely examined by some future researcher, allow me to announce that Tuesday is also the last pick-up day of sort-it-yourself recycling in my neighborhood. Beginning on Wednesday, everything that I typically recycle can be (MUST be) put in the same big bin. This is an unfathomable change. I can’t tell you how long I’ve been sorting newspaper from office paper and keeping the milk jugs and tin cans over by the garage wall. Separating stuff is what recycling was all about for me. Like an ancient chieftain who thinks a dragon has swallowed the Moon and the Lord of Misrule is planning to raise a ruckus, I am suddenly quite uneasy and unsure of myself.

When have a lunar eclipse, the winter solstice and a change in recycling rules happened on the very same day? Never before. And perhaps never again. Will we even call it “recycling” in 2094? I don’t think so. I feel extra lucky to be alive for this moment.

What event in your life would you like to add to the roster of amazing synchronicity for tomorrow’s grand convergence?

Fearless!

After I read this fascinating article about a woman with no fear, I sent it to an acquaintance of mine who is an expert in the field, Dr. Larry Kyle of Genway – the supermarket for genetically engineered foods. Here’s his reply:

A woman with no fear?

How sad! The feeling of fear is overwhelming and so deliciously intense! I don’t want to say fear is “fun”, but when you face an incident that triggers real fear, you feel vibrantly alive afterwards.
If, in fact, you’re alive afterwards.

In this study, the scientists set out to test whether the amygdala, an almond-shaped button inside the brain, is the physical seat of fear in humans as it is in animals. Their subject was a 44 year old mother of three who had lost her amygdala as the result of a rare disease.

What did they do to test her fear response? They introduced her to a snake and a spider at a pet store. They took her on a tour of a haunted house. And they showed her excerpts from “The Blair Witch Project” and “The Shining.” When she seemed unperturbed they concluded that her fear response was inhibited.

I’m very disappointed. She’s a mother of three! You can’t scare someone who has given birth three times by using one stupid pet store spider! You need at least 1,000 spiders rushing out of a shower drain just after she has put the shampoo in her hair.

And a tour of a haunted house? Please. If you have three children, your real house is haunted every day. Yes, there’s a zombie in the closet. So what? The really frightening stuff has to do with the funny smell coming out of the dryer and the growing realization that some people in this house don’t empty their pockets before they put their clothes down the chute.

Movie clips? They’re nice, but they’re entertainment. Faux fear, if you will. Besides, if I read this report correctly, the subject (identified as “SM”) was accompanied by scientists in every instance. No wonder she wasn’t afraid. Anyone who has seen a horror film in the last 40 years knows the first thing a creature does is destroy its creator. When I’m in the movie theater I don’t even start to get worried until at least 3 scientists and a security guard are dead.

Researchers – the next time you do a study like this, I hope you’ll bring more theater into it. Yes, take your subject on a group tour of the darkened haunted house. But drop off one by one as she walks through. With each disappearance there should be a chop, or a scream, or the unmistakable roar of a chain saw. Splattering helps.

Or just observe her as she reads her children’s Facebook pages. Then we’ll see if it’s possible for a human to feel no fear!

I thanked Dr. Kyle for his expert opinion, but I’m inclined to think the study is accurate and the amygdala really is the fear center in humans. Which begs this question about getting an amygdalaectomy.

If you could have an operation that would leave you totally free of fear, would you?