Just a bunch of silliness, really
Baby in a Cave
2010.06.26 | Just a bunch of silliness, really | geology, offspring, science | 11 Comments
This blog has committed to make an effort to report on scientific topics that may be relevant to modern society. As part of this effort I hired Kellen Gunderson, a certified Science Master of Mother Gaia, to provide a series of dispatches from the wonder world of Science!
The Grand Unifying Theory of Baby in a Cave
The great scientific icons of history became icons because their theories were truly revolutionary. Isaac Newton, Albert Einstein, Niels Bohr, Marie Curie, Charles Darwin, and Charles Lyell all became legendary because their ideas fundamentally changed society’s views of Earth, the Universe, and the human condition. Their ideas were big, their observational power was uncanny, and their creativity was unmatched. Modern science suffers from a dearth of these big scientific ideas. Maybe it’s because we as modern scientists have to spend so much time and effort competing for scarce resources, reviewing endless manuscripts, and essentially fighting our way up the corporate-research ladder.
But every once in a while, a flash of brilliance makes it through the muddy estuary of scientific research bureaucracy. Recently while wandering around the Eastern California desert, I stumbled upon a theory that has the potential for transforming our world and leading mankind to that fountain once sought by Juan Ponce de Leon. It began when I asked the question: why do people age? I searched long and hard for an answer by asking my friend and fellow scientician Chris who responded, “Because of environmental factors: sunlight breaks down skin cells, dust in the air, bacteria in water, etc. all contribute to our body slowly breaking down.” It sounded official. After all, Chris is an ecologist which means that he knows more about biology than I do. Plus, his answer resonated with me because it was verifiable. Immediately I conceived of a test for Chris’s hypothesis. According to this hypothesis, if one could isolate a person from all external environmental factors then that person would never get older. Humanity could finally be forever young.
So I concocted the great baby in a cave experiment. Simply put, my theory states that if I put a baby in a cave (thereby isolating the baby from all external environmental factors) that baby would not age. The theory’s elegance lies in its simplicity (See Figure 1). I have yet to test the theory, but I am in the process of writing proposals to the NIH, NSF, and possibly NASA to get funding for this grand experiment. The proposal will probably be pretty short because how long does it really take to explain that you want to put a baby in cave?
Figure 1 - Demonstrates that a baby, when placed in a cave will remain a baby. If the baby is continually placed in the cave, the baby will remain a baby for infinity in an endless cycle.
The next column from Science! Correspondent Kellen Gunderson will feature a point-counterpoint discussion about consuming acid mine drainage as a beverage.
Moral of the Story
2010.05.14 | Just a bunch of silliness, really | marriage, varmints, vikings | 3 Comments
I saw that dragon movie the whole world has been raving about. Everyone says it has a great message and I must say I agree: All I have to do to get the girl is capture and train a wild dragon and deliver my people from pesky varmints…
Consider it done.
It really is a beautiful message, though. Very applicable to every day life too.
Gramps and Dolls
2010.02.28 | Just a bunch of silliness, really | family, old people | 5 Comments
I came across this picture today as I was digitizing some old photos for a family history project I am working on. Yes, that’s right, I’m related to these people. In fact, not only are we related, but seeing as this is Grandpa Bob and Great Grandpa Maynard, they are among my direct-line progenitors.
Puts my weirdness into a little better perspective, doesn’t it…
How do you measure Awesome?
2009.09.23 | Just a bunch of silliness, really | my way is better, weights & measures | 7 Comments
Having spent the morning pouring over the venerable pages of Wikipedia, I’ve come to a shocking revelation: our measuring system stinks. Take, for example, the measure known as the hogshead. Not only is this a macabre benchmark, but it is a completely random value, being equal to (I’m not making this up) 6 firkins, 3 1/2 rundlets, or a round 63 gallons. 63! Who came up with this stuff? Not much better is the meter, which, over the years has had several definitions, my favorite being “the distance, at 0° Celsius, between the axes of the two central lines marked on the prototype bar of platinum-iridium, this bar being subject to one standard atmosphere of pressure and supported on two cylinders of at least one centimetre diameter, symmetrically placed in the same horizontal plane at a distance of 571 millimetres from each other”. How could I ever be expected to bring children into a world with such arbitrary, ridiculous, French-based standards of measurement? They didn’t even spell centimeter right.
Thus, after spending the majority of the last five minutes in painstaking thought, I’ve decided it’s time for a new, non-French standard. Gone are the days of drinking milk by the gallon, running miles, or buying sour patch kids by the pound. It’s time to move on. I therefore propose a new system: a combination of the choicest maritime & aeronautical measurements (knots, leagues, fathoms, carry-on bags), underappreciated measurement of years past (fortnight, cubits, jiggers, pecks), and some new additions among which are the following:
jiffy - the amount of time it takes me to get there, i.e, “I’ll be there in a jiffy.”
cows - a measure of weight, being approximately equal to one pound of melted down platinum-iridium bar. This measure being so named as to have the intended effect that as people reflect on their own weight (e.g., 168 cows), obesity levels will plunge.
twit - defined as the length of a stalk of grass 1 week following a good mowing.
swig - meaning, the amount of milk I can safely hold in my mouth while hearing a funny joke without it coming out my nose.
Lastly, in honor of the late Douglas Adams, his own measurement, the sheppey, will be adopted, this being defined as the closest distance at which sheep remain picturesqe (approx 7/8 mile or, more precisely, 18,267 twits).
Start lobbying your politicians, we’ve got to make these changes quick.
My kids will be here in a jiffy.
Rob’s Love Issues Explained
2009.04.07 | Just a bunch of silliness, really | books, felines, love, words | 10 Comments
Through the years the world has seen its fair share of individuals who have ventured to teach us about love: from John Lennon to Dr. Laura, Tom Hanks to Meg Ryan, Miracle Max to …Yoda? That’s right, Yoda. Little, furry, big-eared Yoda. Lest you unjustly label me with some uncalled for name-calling lets set the record straight: I am not some Star Wars Geek. I’m really a much bigger geek than that. You know, the kind that wears sock-suspenders and not-so-secretly wants to live in a shipping container (it’s the new tuffshed). No, really, Star Wars has nothing to do with this. Yoda was my cat.
We got Yoda when I was just a little tyke. I don’t remember being a part of the naming process but Martin family lore holds that we named the cat Yoda because he was ugly, balding on the ears, and resembled the Jedi Master himself. Ugly or not, I loved that cat. I’d nicely pet him, he’d nuzzle up next to me, and sit on my lap. We’d even nap together as documented by this undisputed photographic proof (which also doubles as evidence of what a cute kid I was).
Years later I read a book called The Five Love Languages. The premise of the book is that there are different love languages (quality time, words of affirmation, gift giving, acts of service, and physical touch) and we each have our own preferred language in which we both “speak” our love and “hear” love being communicated to us. The book further claims that many problems in relationships are the result of a couple not speaking each others’ love language. While this definitely falls under the category of pseudo-psychology it’s a theory that I accept as it is one that makes a lot of sense.
Reading the book it didn’t take me long to figure out I was a physical touch guy. The book says you can usually trace your love language to your childhood but when asked my mom she says she didn’t remember me being particularly touchy/cuddly. And then it hit me: Yoda. I learned my love language from the cat.
Somehow I always end up dating girls who have ridiculous love languages like words of affirmation. Words. Pfft. I don’t do words. Maybe that explains my stellar luck in relationships thus far in life. After reading The Five Love Languages, though, I’m confident I’ll be able to work through any differences in love languages I have with the girls I date…
…providing they have a cat, of course.
I Owe it all to Oatmeal
2009.03.05 | Just a bunch of silliness, really | food, revelation | 12 Comments
Ever have one of those days where the light bulb suddenly goes on and you know your life will never be the same? Today was one of those days. Every morning at work I eat a bowl of oatmeal. Why oatmeal? To be honest I don’t really even like oatmeal. They claim it helps reduce cholesterol but that’s not the reason either. I don’t care beans for my cholesterol level. I eat it so that I get more than one meal a day. I’ll often work straight through lunch or only have a few bites of chips and salsa so breakfast is kind of a necessity to survive. Alas, I digress. My revelation was this: why chew? All oatmeal is is a sticky mass of tiny flakes. Chewing just seems like overkill. From now on I’m just swallowing my oatmeal straight up.
Life just got that much better…
What has it got in its pocketses?
2009.03.03 | Just a bunch of silliness, really | favorites, stuff | 8 Comments
You might think that a discussion on what Rob has got in his pockets would be dull and far from blog-worthy but you’d be wrong. On many occasions I’ve filled an entire date’s worth of conversation with the sole subject being the contents of my pockets. Even the great JRR Tolkien filled some 1000+ pages answering that very question. And then for all those people who were too busy to read it they made an abbreviated (read: 11-hour) movie adaptation of JRR Tolkien’s answer to that question starring Elijah Wood.
I know what you’re thinking… “But why you?” “How were the dates?” “Why am I reading this?” “Where’s Elijah Wood?” This entry is a beginning at what may be a series of “favorites” where I share with the masses a choice product, word, (no, not that kind of choice word), or maybe if I am feeling really generous, a person. With that said may I present…
The money clip. I’m a minimalist. I think things should be kept as simple as possible. There was a time when I carried around a standard George-Costanza-esque wallet full of random papers, cards, even breath mints. That was all fine and good until you went to do something silly like, oh I don’t know, sit down. As fun as it is parking your caboose on a big lump, I decided there had to be a less lopsided solution. I found it in the money clip. The one I have is called the “smart clip”. The curvy clip is to hold cash while it has room for six cards on the opposite side. I wasn’t satisfied with the clip as it was though. Like any good man I took it upon myself to make the clip even better. I hammered out the curvy metal piece straight and flush with the back, thus halving the width from near 1/2 inch to less than 1/4 of an inch, yet still allowing you the option to slip cash or receipts there as needed.
Its awesome. The part that holds the credit cards is slightly tapered which means it doesn’t require all six cards in order for the rest to stay. Even one card will stick in there just fine. The only downside is sometimes its too small, and I won’t realize if its slipped out of my pocket. Still its great; one of the most satisfying buys I ever made. It helps you minimalize by making you choose the most important cards to carry. Of course, there you go again… thinking out loud, “What ARE the most important cards to carry? Oh, tell us Robert…”
If I must. Here’s what I carry in my money clip (aren’t I a giver?):
The Drivers License – recognized in all 49 states (I stopped recognizing Wisconsin AGES ago… we should gift them to Canada)
American Express Costco (Cotsco) card with bonus picture – Thats right, a picture of ME! On a credit card! A delightful combination, I know. I’ve always felt my face deserved to be on currency.
Credit Card – Not as cool as the one with my picture, but one of those with an insanely good cash-back program.
Library Card – Like that one famous guy with that one famous quote, I believe that which changes us are who we’ve met and the books we’ve read… thus I carry my Library Card… also, its got a cool picture of a cartoon frog reading, get this, a book! Unexpected, I know.
Restaurant Gift Card – Good for a free meal and for carding my way into places in *cough* “emergency situations”.
Insurance Card – mostly a remnant of my mole-removal days.
There you have it: my coveted second endorsement. Sure, this one was free, smart clip, but the next one is ‘a gonna cost ya… especially when it comes time to make the Elijah Wood movie adaptation.
Recession Update
2009.02.27 | Just a bunch of silliness, really | money, my way is better | 12 Comments
I’m not really into things that are trendy or mainstream. Facebook? Pfft. Fashion? Puh-leese. Personal hygiene? Whatever. Lately it seems this so-called global recession is all anybody can talk about. Despite all the press its getting nobody really has much nice to say about it. Thus, after some lengthy consideration I’ve decided not to participate in the recession. Thanks anyway!
Why Everyone Should be a Genealogist
2009.02.08 | Just a bunch of silliness, really | | 10 Comments
I’m my family’s genealogist. I’m pretty sure they think I have this weird interest in dead people or that I was destined to this role due to being named after my two grandfathers (both of whom were family historians). It really goes much deeper than that though: I don’t want to end up marrying one of my cousins.
I remember growing up my dad telling me about how he had a kissing cousin. I don’t quite remember the details of all that entailed, nor, frankly, do I care to recall the specifics, but it definitely left an impression. I never really had any close relationships with my extended family though, so I thought I was safe.
I thought wrong. While on a double date with my roommate, we figured out through some fine detective work that my date was second cousins with my roommate (he was really glad I was the one taking his newfound cousin out and not he). This was just a warning. A few months later, I was talking to a good friend of mine. She is a family history major and when she mentioned one of her ancestors I recognized the name. Turns out we are 6th cousins. Add to that some of the latest tv episodes I’ve been running into and this has turned into a near epidemic…
In short, knowing how you’re related to people may slim your dating pool, but I hope you’ll agree that is not a bad sacrifice to make.
Timeless Fashion
2009.01.31 | Just a bunch of silliness, really | | 10 Comments
I’m an old man at heart. Between my affinity for family history, an early-to-bed/early-to-rise attitude, and my regular aches and pains, I’m probably better suited for an old folks home than the student housing I now live in. Of all my old-timer characteristics, however, there is just one that stands out and really defines me: Cardigans.
I love cardigans. They’re warm, look sharp, and are, well, simply and utterly fabulous. Sadly, though, they are underappreciated by my generation. I guess thats what you get when your poster child is Mr. Rogers. Without question the best way to convert to the cardigan cause is to go out and buy one but perhaps for now a history lesson on fashion’s crowning jewel will suffice:
History of the Cardigan (unabridged)
377,537,322 – 320,679,982 BC (approximate) – Mount Cardigan, 43°38’58” N 71°54’51” W, is formed thanks to the Acadian orogeny. It was one rockin’ party…
1855 – Lieutenant General James Brudenell, 7th Earl of Cardigan, returns from the Crimean War. The cardigan, supposedly worn by him on his campaign (and receiving its name after him), became fashionable following his glorious return from battle.
1856 – Lord Cardigan is defamed after the true story of his participation in the Crimean War is told. He still looks fabulous.
1968 – Mr. Rogers first asks America “Won’t you be my neighbor?” He asked Canadians the same question in 1963 but they decided the answer was “No” after giving him three seasons. They must have heard that rumor about him wearing cardigans to cover tattoos running up his arms.
1992 – A Swedish pop group is started who call themselves “The Cardigans”. Among their finer hits are “I Need Some Fine Wine and You, You Need to be Nicer” and “Your New Cuckoo”. Their undisputed hits propell them into international stardom.
2007 – Rob joins the world of Cardigans. The world rejoices.
