Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Ode to the eggplant

For a long time people were afraid to eat eggplant, as it is a member of the nightshade family and was considered poisonous. It is unclear HOW people back then knew it was a member of the nightshade family, as it no more resembles a tomato or other nightshade plants than does a seahorse, and it's not like plants go around advertising their family relationships.

Personally I think it would have been for the best to leave things at that as far as the eggplant is concerned, and to go on thinking it was too dangerous to attempt to eat it. Our CSA clearly believes otherwise, judging from the continual stream of eggplant they keep sneaking into our weekly basket, like a parent sneaking vegetables into her children's muffins. Both are probably punishable offenses.

Much of our late summer has been spent desperately trying to find a way to cook eggplant so that its texture is more like actual food than worn rubber tires. As part of this effort, eggplant has been roasted, grilled, breaded and fried, cut up in small pieces and hidden among other, less tire-like vegetables, smothered in cheese, smothered in chocolate, and deliberately abandoned in the bottom of the vegetable bin in the fridge. ("Oh, look, it's too far gone to eat now. Too bad.")

We were ready to make a formal request to the appropriate scientific body that eggplant be removed from the nightshade family and placed in the rubber plant family. It could, perhaps, live a long and fruitful life as playground surfacing material ("Fewer injuries with poured eggplant!").

But then a friend, taking pity on our eggplant despair, insisted I try a recipe for eggplant tomato purée for pasta. She herself made it "way too often." I immediately recognized the possibilities in roasting an eggplant and tomatoes, pureeing them together beyond recognition, and mixing it all with a ridiculous amount of red pepper flakes, Parmesan, and noodles. Excellent. No evidence to suggest that there had ever BEEN an eggplant, except a tiny stray remnant of peel here and there.

The eggplant kept coming from the CSA, and the puree followed. It doubled as a cracker dip, went to all our social gatherings, filled up our freezer. Its popularity soared. And then, somehow, there didn't seem to be as many social gatherings to which to take the eggplant purée. Odd.

But there is no foreseeable end to the eggplant. It is in season until October. Clearly, it is time for a different way to deal with the next eggplant to appear in our basket, so we have determined to use it in a time-honored fashion: put it on someone's porch, knock on the door, and run like crazy. 

Thursday, August 21, 2014

Are you smarter than a Smart Meter?

In an apparent effort to trim costs, our local energy company has installed Smart Meters on many homes in the area, including ours. Smart meters give the company up-to-the-minute data on your energy usage and allow them to send personalized updates to let you know how much energy you are using. And how much energy your neighbors are using. And how much MORE energy you are using compared to your neighbors. And how ashamed this should make you.

It does make us ashamed. Ashamed that we didn't just say no to the Smart Meter.

Because knowing 
that our "most efficient neighbors" are using 51% less energy than we are has not made us look for ways to cut back. It has made us wonder who these people are. And what THEIR reports say. Possibly, "Congratulations! You are more efficient than the rest of your neighbors, who are all imbeciles with complete disregard for the Earth's resources. If we were you, we would definitely consider moving."

And we wonder, of course, which are the poor saps who are even less efficient than we are. And we gloat over them, whoever they are.

Another measure instituted by the energy company is special Energy-Saving Days. These are days selected at random from the days when energy demand is expected to be high, and if you consume less energy than usual on those days, you get ANOTHER report from the company. This one says, "Great job! You used 1% less energy on this day. Your account will be credited $.43 (minus federal, state, international, and intergalactic taxes and fees)".

The idea is that you, the homeowner and assumed energy hog, are informed IN ADVANCE of the special Energy-Saving Day and implement prudent, cost-cutting measures on that day, such as following your spouse and children around and turning off lights and faucets after they turn them on ("Hey, can't a person get more than four drops of water to drink??" "Tomorrow. Not today").

The problem is that the energy company does NOT tell you ahead of time exactly when the Energy-Saving Day will be, only that it will be "soon." We find out only in retrospect that it was, say, two weeks ago, on August 7. Any energy conservation measures taken that day, therefore, were a completely accidental occurrence. But at least we receive our 43-cent payback (minus federal, state, international, and intergalactic taxes and fees.

We are sure that more frequent, personal, and annoying messages are coming from the company in the near future. Perhaps the communication will be something like this:

Energy Company: We have observed that your energy usage has climbed 12% in the last month. Are you leaving more lights on than usual? -- Your friends at the energy company

Us: Hummph.

EC: You could have traveled to Liechtenstein with the money you would have saved if you were as efficient as your neighbors.

Us: Funny, we don't see any of THEM traveling to Liechtenstein.

EC: We noticed your lights flashing off and on at 2200 hours for 3 1/2 minutes yesterday. It was like some sort of signal...

Us: Darn right, Smart Meter. We were saying Leave us alone. At least 51% of the time.

Thursday, August 14, 2014

Want more brain power? Get lost! Literally

Much is being made in education these days of "brain-based learning," which is the idea that teaching should reflect scientifically proven principles about how the brain works. This is in contrast to traditional teaching methods, which seem to assume that students' brains are pretty much asleep in school.*

These scientifically proven principles about how the brain works are:

1. We humans use our brain to learn things. Probably most of us at least SUSPECTED that maybe our brains were involved somehow in learning, but now brain scientists, using very expensive equipment that probes the brain regions while subjects are involved in learning a task, have pronounced definitively that yes, the brain does help us learn.**

2. The brain develops more learning capacity by making more neuronal connections. One way the brain accomplishes this is when you learn something new or try something different, like taking a new route to work. The brain cannot, in this case, rely on its old routes, and must forge new ones, making more synapses and building alliances and passing GO and collecting...

Ahem.

Of course, there is bad news as well.

3. If pathways in the brain are not used, they die off. This explains why, for example, some men can remember every detail about every football game in the last 937 seasons, but forget their children's names. Or even that they HAVE children.

Aware that too many of my personal brain pathways may already be dead-ends, in an effort to salvage what I still have I diligently set about one morning to follow a different route from the subway to work.

And promptly got lost.

Very lost.

My brain had to work very hard to figure out where it was supposed to be, much harder than I expected, and -- even though this is not addressed in the brain literature -- I believe I racked up some serious bonus points in my little Build-the-Neuron-Connections game.

In keeping with principle 2, I must practice my new behaviors over and over until the pathways become established. Then it's off to find a new behavior to make new pathways. So if you see a bewildered-looking female trudging around a city, it's just me, building neurons.

______
*Which has also been scientifically proven, at least for subjects other than recess.

**Most of us, anyway.

Monday, August 4, 2014

It's a bear! It's a shadow! It's -- way too hot

In a normal summer here in the East, certain activities are to be avoided due to the debilitating heat and humidity. These include strenuous exercise, being outdoors in the middle of the day, getting up and going to work, remembering your name, etc.

But this summer has been much more comfortable than usual. Some friends therefore suggested we visit the zoo with them and their children, which is to be avoided on hot days, so we headed there on...what turned out to be the hottest day of the summer.

Basically, the people at the visitor's center told us, we should go see all the animals right away, because the animals are smart, and by 11:30 they would be comfortably holed up in their air-conditioned areas, whereas we would be left looking at empty enclosures and panting from the heat.

This sounded like a good plan to us. The air-conditioned part, I mean. Thus we spent 52 minutes closely studying the endangered Panamanian frog, which is a whopping 1.3 inches long and is capable of sitting still with no movement whatsoever for long periods of time (in our experience, at least 52 minutes), but which was nevertheless extremely interesting because it was in a section of the Amazonian building that had air conditioning.

Air conditioning, you might know from your knowledge of climates, is not typical of Amazonian weather in the wild. There the temperatures usually hover around 963 degrees and the humidity is like having it rain inside your sauna, only worse. And indeed, this atmosphere is re-created in most of the Amazonian building at the zoo, which keeps the animals happy but makes visitors a little testy. In recognition of this, the building designers put in a door off the main entrance that bypasses the entire steamy part of the exhibit, a fact that we regrettably did not discover until we had been in the steamy section so long we feared that, like the Panamanian frog, we would be next on the endangered list.

Scientists are studying why the Panamanian frog is disappearing at alarming rates in the wild, but it doesn't take a great brain to guess the reason. We can use these simple facts to discern the cause:

1. The frogs are disappearing from the Amazon, which as we have discussed is way hot.

2. They thrive when placed in the zoo's complimentary air-conditioned tanks. 

Ergo, the frogs have been leaving the 963-degree weather in vast numbers (according to rumors, on chartered AirPanama flights) and heading for various zoos with air conditioning.

Now that that mystery is solved, we can start putting all the money currently going toward this issue into air-conditioning the rest of the zoo, including the entire outside.

Eventually we ran out of air-conditioned environments and were forced to stand outside to see some of the animals. A splendid male lion was sprawled among the rocks, probably pondering which of the visitors looked the most weakened from the sun and would be easy pickings. But of course we weren't too worried, because male lions do not kill prey themselves. They depend on the womenfolk to do it for them*, and Mrs. Lion was, as any other wise female would be on such a sultry day, no doubt at a spa getting her nails done.

There was some dissension among us at the bear exhibit as to whether there was an actual bear in it. The discussion went something like this:

"There's a bear, right there!" [The rest of us squint at what appears to be a shadow in a cave-like opening.]

"No, it's just a shadow."

"No, it's a bear!"

This went on, with minor variations, for some time, until we really didn't care whether the shadow was a bear or a shadow or even an endangered Panamanian frog. But if the frog knew what was good for it, it would stay in the air conditioning.

________
*I will not, although it is tempting, generalize these facts to any other species that include a male.