End of the Road I

A part of my job is to destroy people's life-long dreams, to break hearts. The question of how to approach such a serious, but necessary task, is a difficult one for those in my field. I can certainly tell you that this is not a task that we enjoy or relish or from which we receive one iota of pleasure. However, at some point it is essential that this deed be carried out, and carried out with both compassion and brutal honesty.

In the field of science, one of our essential roles is to train and teach the next generation. Those who would take up our mantel and continue the mission. I can tell you that this work is not for just anyone. You might think that anyone with enough dedication and pluck could ultimately become successful, but my experience says no. Everyone eventually reaches a level where they are limited by their ability to grasp complex ideas, process them, and build on them, sometimes under enormous deadlines and pressures. This level is different for different people. To be sure, scientists come in all shapes and sizes, with a broad spectrum of abilities, interests, backgrounds, and strengths. Some work night and day, some put in their 40 hours and go home, and some are known to be somewhat lazy. Some are Type-A and some Type-B. But the level where we run out of cranial steam, as it were, just depends. Sometimes, though, this point is insufficient to continue on the path.

So, how do you tell someone that they are not cut out to do what they have dedicated their lives to? Long hours of studying and sacrifice and labor. Entire lives and identities directed toward one goal, one future. 4 years of undergraduate work, 6 years of graduate school, 3 years as a postdoc. However, for some, the deficiencies are just too great to be employable, to be useful, to be overlooked. They need to leave the field and there is no other alternative.

(Part 1 of 2)

Creepy New Trend

I know the world would be a less enlightened place without my pithy observations. I get that, I really do. I also realize that my faithful readers expect me to keep them up to date with the latest annoying trends associated with the bizzaro times in which we habitate. How else would you really know when to furrow your brow or point and laugh at a complete stranger in public? Well, if I do say so myself, I have done it again. I have spotted a new and rising trend that I can only describe as kinda creepy. What's the deal with older people wearing braces? In the past week I have encountered three folks with at least 50 years behind them who had braces on their teeth. Why should this bother me, and more importantly, why should this bother you? Well, braces are legally and morally allowed only for pimply faced teenagers. I believe in the U.S. that anyone over the age of 18 who is wearing braces is actually committing a felony. Now before you start to grow concerned that Americans are running around in flagrant violation of the law, let me assure you that the three people to which I just alluded were actually all "Europeans". But, I bet that you could have guessed this without me even telling you. Need I bring up the topic of a previous post (Manly Men) focussing on European "men" sporting Capri pants and Alice bands?

T.V. News

When I was growing up in the 1970s, there were essentially only 3 T.V. channels from which to choose. You had CBS, NBC, and ABC. At a certain hour, they all stopped showing programs and delivered only a test pattern. It was a whole different world than the hundreds of non-stop channels that most folks have access to today. In many houses, including mine, the familiar family hum and clatter came to a stop so that the grown-ups could watch the evening news. This was one of those non-negotiable deals where the world of color and volume was put on hold at 6:00 p.m. for the areal black and white realm.

In those days, the three trusted icons that looked into our world from sets in New York City were Walter Cronkite - CBS, John Chancellor - NBC, and Harry Reasoner - ABC. These serious men wore serious-looking suits and were positioned in sets that were stark and no nonsense. The news shows were somber programs, reporting on important issues, in difficult times.

Today, the world is still facing serious issues, but the tradition of gathering around the T.V. to watch the evening news is eroding and dissipating. Part of it has to do with the change in the family unit dynamics, the availability of more interesting programming, reduced attention spans, and perhaps to some extent, the invention of the DVR. However, I also feel that the change in our news viewing habits is directly related to the fact that the news shows predominantly focus on the negative. The networks follow in lock step a formulaic and cloying approach to digging up sensational and titillating dirt on everyone they can. It also has to do, I suspect, with the dubious merging of news and political agendas to purposefully distort the broadcasts and mislead.

I have not watched the evening news in years. I keep my finger on the world's pulse from my computer. I check my favorite web sites each morning and evening to keep up. Our computers are interfaces that protect us and buffer us. They allow us to pick and choose what stories we read, which we follow in detail, and which we only skim over. We can tackle each item at our own pace, and if we don't have any interest in what we are reading, the next headline is just a click away.

Happy Thanksgiving

Hope your day is filled with peace, good conversation, wonderful food, and happiness.

The Me Box

The other day my daughter brought home an assignment from school called the "Me Box", and I could tell it was one that she would enjoy. Each student was asked to decorate a shoe box with images that defined or described who they were and some of their favorite activities. They could use markers or photographs or pictures from magazines. My little one had found some pictures of horses and puppies, a delicious high-calorie looking cake, and girls playing lacrosse. Of course, the puppies were chosen because they were just so darned cute, after all, who could look at those faces and not fall head over heels. The horses were chosen because my daughter has a fondness for horses. She has gone riding a couple of times and once attended a week-long horse school. The cake was selected because she loves baking with her grandma. Finally, lacrosse is her favorite sport, and she has been playing for several years and loves the exercise, the competition, and the camaraderie of it all.

The other aspect of the assignment was to put a few odds and ends inside the box, so they could do a little show-n'-tell for their classmates. I found it amusing that the teacher's written instructions said that the box could not contain liquids or, curiously, alive or dead animals of any kind. Clearly there is a story somewhere about the inclusions in Me Boxes from previous years. Inside her box, my little one placed a bag of beads, a string of ribbon, a lacrosse ball, and some odds and ends. The beads were selected because she likes to make jewelry with her momma and the string of ribbon was included because she likes to sew with her grandma and has already made herself a jacket and several shirts. The odds and ends were shiny and interesting objects that she found while out and about. We have always referred to these as her treasures, and I have been collecting them in her dresser. They include metal washers, colorful paperclips, springs, plastic bits and pieces, and the tops of pens. She has always been fascinated by her discoveries and likes to store up her goodies. So, there you have it, the images and items that my daughter believes define her.

If I were to prepare a box for my daughter, it would include images of our dinners together, our trips to play with her stuffed animals at the lab where I work, our times playing board games on lazy afternoons, our movie nights with fruit juice and goodies, and snuggling together while I read her favorite books. I would have to design the box so that the pictures and items could be swapped out as our favorite and defining images change and morph from season to season.

Tree Hugger

I once had a boss who referred to certain folks as "tree huggers". He made it quite clear by his sniggering and mannerisms that these people were just annoying kooks and nuts. Subversives or anarchists, whose sole purpose was to act as an impediment to progress and all things sensible and rational. His tone was condescending, his remarks defamatory and slanderous. It seemed to him that anyone who tried to defend and perserve nature at the expense of raising a new building or parking lot or public convenience, was just acting as a contrarian. These whack-jobs had nothing better to do with their insipid and empty lives, so they joined some silly cause without full understanding of what they were defending or what was really at stake. These people were laughable, fools who were nothing more than the chaff of life.

It is possible that I once felt this way too. It seems like an attitude that I might have had at one point in time, many years ago. However, my present approach is more aligned with trying to honor nature. Over the years I have come to better appreciate the beauty and wonder and majesty of the fields of wildflowers, the ranging forests and undeveloped areas, and also the creatures and critters that make these expanses their homes. This all kind of hit home recently when I arrived at work and was surprised to find a contingent of heavy machinery clearing out sizeable tracts of trees from our surrounding forest. Our trees have long created a buffer zone that isolates us from the harsh urban sprawl that is everywhere in the area that I live. I drove up to see a flatbed truck fully loaded with freshly cut tree trunks. Each tree was several feet in diameter with more growth rings than I could count. I thought about how long these gifts of nature had been around, how much they had lived through and witnessed, and how quickly and unceremoniously they were torn from the ground and reduced to something else. Something unnatural. Further adding to the scene, I could hear the crew of workmen off in the distance continuing their work of decimation. Those sounds of ripping and tearing, of pure destruction still echo in my mind.

I know that soon my eyes and my mind will adjust to the new surroundings. Soon the new building will be present, with its plantings and landscaping, and its symbolism of progress. However, I will not forget what was there before. In fact, you can count me in the category of unashamed tree hugger. I see nothing wrong, nothing weak, nothing insipid about preserving nature where we can and making this a priority as we move ahead.

Grind My Gears 10

I can hold my tongue no longer. Actually, who would want to hold anyone's tongue? My doctor tried to do this thing once where she moved my tongue around whilst holding the end with a piece of gauze. I remember it made me throw up a little. Anyway, I digress. What is really chapping my chaps today, as it were, is the pinheadedness of all retailers and shop owners everywhere. In my younger days, Christmas signage and decorations did not go up until the first part of December. Then some Einstein had the brilliant money-making stratagem to push the envelope to right after Thanksgiving. Soon all of the other sheep on the pasture followed right along in perfect step. Baaaaaaa. But was this good enough? No, not even close. The sales and merchandise and decorations then quickly started leaking across the Thanksgiving break, a time period once thought impenetrable. Store displays then popped up in the middle and then the beginning of November. Then October. Then September. Hooray, it's freakin' Christmas in July! These people all really grind my gears. I believe they should all be locked in a small room while the Muzak version of Jingle Bell Rock plays on an endless loop until their brains seep out of their ears. Many would agree with me on this issue. Justice served. Oh, and Merry Chris, ..., errrr, Happy Holidays.