Captions invited (Please, fund me!)

please, fund me

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If you think you are sick of me now…

I will write about topics that are dear to me, that  have meaning. I promise. But not until the following blog. For now, those of you who dare click to read-on, will have to endure tales of my most recent attempt to self-promote, the only option left to us poor authors who publish with small literary presses.

Fortunately, I have a dedicated tech crew on hand at my home, who were able to see me through this next little project. Well, here it is: for those of you too busy, too tired, and not interested in reading the free passage of my novel “Welcome Home, Sir:” It’s the audio passage of Chapter One–free–and better yet, nasally narrated by the author! Just click here, and sit back and enjoy.

If you like it, let me know. Perhaps I will go ahead and do the entire book on audio. Can one sell the book as a Podcast? There are currently no other options that I know of to market an online audiobook. Any suggestions?

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Electronic evolution

iPhone

iPhone

iPad

iPad

 

iWash

iWash

 

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Experiments, hypotheses, volcanoes, newtons and free downloads

It’s been an exciting week of experiments: in the lab and at home for my son’s school science fair—and for the psychology of marketing. But I’ll come to that later. Let’s start at the annual school science fair.

An elementary school science fair is a wonderful thing. It exposes children at a very young age to the joys of discovery, and allows them to expand their curiosity of the world—something babies do naturally—but they learn to do it in a structured and analytical fashion.

In general, it’s a joy to see a child, proudly standing in front of a poster, explaining and showing her/his project, and taking ownership of it.

Now I am a fan of the many advantages of the internet (aka interwebz on this site). But unfortunately, it can be a confusing source of information, particularly in the realm of science. So while many parents (mostly non-scientists) manage to help their children find or modify some nice experimental projects, others have difficulty with this. Nice experimental systems included determining the amount of salt needed to make an egg float, optimal conditions for the growth of fungi on cheese, testing growth of plants under various conditions, and so on.

My son, with a laboratory at his disposal, ordered up some agar plates and decided to test what spreads bacteria more readily, coughing or sneezing. While the experimental system sounds easy, he spent a lot of time researching how to sneeze on demand and working out the conditions. Pepper did not help, but gliding a rolled piece of tissue into his nostril at just the right angle—while looking into a bright light did the trick. The results, shown here, are atypically clear for the life sciences! Average of ~100 bacterial colonies per sneeze, compared with less than 10 for coughs and zero for the control plates (open to air for the same time).You can cough in my face, but don’t sneeze in my vicinity, please.

sf

But in addition to many nice projects, I saw too many ‘volcanoes’ (the old showy acid-base reaction). Too many demonstrations that merely depict an interesting phenomenon with asking a question. Obviously, this misses the point. So while the children nonetheless become excited about their projects, they are really being taught that science is about “getting something to work the way you know it will,” rather than asking a question and testing, measuring, determining the answer. Hypothesis-driven science starts in the cradle…

Of course these issues of grabbing a ready-made project reminded me of my undergraduate studies in Jerusalem (in the pre-internet era), where in a microbiology lab course I was asked if I had any ‘Newtons?’

“What are Newtons?” I hadn’t a clue. Turns out that they were the term for previous years’ lab reports, because they had been copied and passed down from year to year ever since the days of Newton…

And in the psychological/social sciences–another experiment: well, I did what Henry did—but I only read his blog afterwards, so I didnae copy him. I put the Kindle reader version of my novel, Welcome Home, Sir, on promotion for FREE for 24 hours. Not that it’s a gigantic saving from the regular-priced $2.99. But I was curious. I sent out perhaps 10 pushy, irritating Tweets over the course of the 24 h to advertise for my promotion campaign. Hoping to jump start the marketing process, get more readers, reviews and perhaps actual sales later on.

I didn’t know what to expect. 5 free downloads over the 24 h? 10? Perhaps 20? How many could there be when I have barely 600 ‘followers,’ a small fraction of which are likely to see any one of the ~10 tweets that I sent out.

Not only was I surprised, but I was absolutely flabbergasted to find a run on the novel, with 105 free downloads in 24 hours. Even with a few kind retweets, I still can’t understand how SO MANY people actually downloaded the novel! It’s quite thrilling, and wonderful, but also rather strange. So many people who are interested enough to download the novel, presumably to read it (what else is there to do with it)—but who otherwise would have been unwilling to fork out $2.99 for it. To me that seems bizarre!

But then I recall years ago a student in my lab—who made a face when I took the lab out for a light lunch at a café, couldn’t/wouldn’t find a sandwich or soup that agreed with her. And yet—she walked around campus with a sheet of paper detailing every seminar that served a free lunch, and she would walk across campus for a soggy tuna sandwich on airy white bread. Go figure.

So in all, it’s been a busy time for experiments. Now if only I could get the ones in the lab done with such efficiency…

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Canada then and now: If you are sick, see a doctor!

I’ve been to Canada many times over the past few years, including a visit this summer to that stellar city of the prairies, the center of Canadian Siberia, Winnipeg. So cold, in fact, that while watching the Canadian Broadcasting Company’s weather map of all of Canada, Winnipeg came in at -39 degrees Celcius (like tax, wind chill factor not included). Yellowknife of the Northwest Territories, up on towards the arctic circle was only a close second.

Professor Steve Caplan - international man of mystery

RW’s artistic version of yours truly in action delivering a seminar. I’ve never looked better. Lysosomes evident in the background…

The cold notwithstanding, I recently returned from a terrific visit to fellow OT blogger Richard Wintle’s domain where I met him for the first time, over a nice Thai lunch–only the second OT comrade in arms that I’ve met in person. This was also only the second seminar I’ve given in Canada and my first real visit to Toronto (my other seminar was in Montreal).

Ricardipus, endogenously

Ricardipus, endogenously.

I had a great time, a lovely, vibrant city, wonderful hosts and a first rate scientific institution. Who can ask for more?

TO-from roof

The view from the rooftop fitness center at my hotel across from the university.

I recalled however, some of the rather quirky things that I’ve noticed on visits to Canada. Perhaps one of the oddest was the visitors’ customs/immigration form back in the 90s that I encountered on a flight from Tel Aviv to Canada. The form stated: “If you are sick, see a doctor!”

I can recall thinking to myself, what a superb suggestion. Somehow that never would have occurred to me. First choice would have been an electrician–or maybe a plumber. But a doctor? I suppose there was concern that any 4th-world citizens, those without a valid Canadian passport, might be bringing in new and untreatable STDs and other such foreign treasures. I’m not sure where the attitude originated, but it struck me as strange.

Now in 2013, I sort of envision Canada as a haven for those in need. Unlike the US, whose safety net for those who are weak, sick, poor or otherwise in trouble, tangles and chokes rather than breaking the fall–Canada seemed to me to be a place that looks out for its own. It probably does. But that wasn’t the impression that Pearson Airport presented to me as I arrived from Detroit.

Albeit not as cold as Winnipeg, the small jet plane was not connected to a “sleeve,” but rather deposited us passengers a short walk outdoors to the terminal. Not a big deal, although it was -13 outside. But there was a rather steep set of stairs attached to the plane that wouldn’t have embarrassed the Mayan pyramids that I visited in Belize. Again, not a big deal for me, but a cane-carrying 80+ year old couple in front of me probably had not recently done any rappelling or Andean Treks.

Once inside the terminal, a sigh of relief. Until arriving at the two sets of escalators leading UP to customs. Neither was working, and for me it wasn’t a big deal with my light pack. But the older couple struggled with their canes and carry-ons, trying to ‘portage’ the escalator, as people trapped behind them were anxiously trying to pass to make their connections.

Other quirks–the cold water tap works backwards. It’s rare that you open anything by turning it clockwise–clockwise is usually reserved for closing. Not in Canada–or at least that hotel. But my brain is plastic after all, and after splashing myself by inadvertently opening the cold water tap to full steam, I got the hang of it. Until I needed the hot water. The brilliant concept was that each tap worked differently, with the hot water turning on counter-clockwise. So much for my brain plasticity. I did not master the sink during my visit.

Finally, there is Newfoundland. This picture is a little blurry, but if you look closely, you can see that the time is 5:15 in Halifax (an hour ahead of Toronto, and two ahead of Omaha). But the hotel clock for St. John’s in Newfoundland has 5:45. And no, that’s not a dead battery in the Halifax clock–those are the real times.

newfoundland

Canadian time zones, recently.

All in all, I enjoyed the visit very much, and would go back tomorrow if I were to be invited! How do Canadian singer-songwriter Joni Mitchell’s Free Man in Paris lyrics go? “You know I’d go back there tomorrow, but for the work I’ve taken on, stoking the star maker machinery, behind the popular song…”

 

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I (DON’T!) smell gas…

fireplace

Our fireplace, recently. Do you smell gas?!

What a day! What a week! What a month, and it’s only halfway through. In my nearly 10 years as a PI, I have not yet had a month with so much juggling. Four seminars in the span of a few weeks, including one coming up in Toronto. On different projects and topics, including one on student fellowship application tips. Five different grants, two new students (now 6 in total) in the lab, teaching, preparing handouts, exams, grading, meetings, biosketches, grant reviews, manuscript reviews, papers being written, rewritten, submitted, resubmitted. And on and on.

STOP! Before I blow a gasket! And now for something completely different, but more irritating than anything mentioned above.

This Sunday, we warmed up the ole TV to get our fix of the second episode of this season’s Downton Abbey (fearful of a downgrade to Downton Place). As it has been a bit nippy here in the midwest, we turned on the gas fireplace that we installed almost 10 years ago–except for the snap-crackle-pop of the logs, the gas fixture could pretty much fool anyone. Complete with ashes that glow. And it warms the room nicely. Well it did, until…

Until we began to smell gas–or more accurately, the odor added to natural gas to warn of gas leaks. Well, we shut off the gas in the fireplace, watched Downton, and got on with our lives.

Thus arises the question or who to call to deal with the problem. Swamped as I was at work, I nonetheless remembered to bring a old energy bill so I could call the gas company for advice on who might be able to check out the problem and repair it. I placed the call from work, about 12 miles from home, at 3 pm. That was a big mistake!

“Do you smell gas?”

“I did, but not right now…”

Name. Address. Customer ID. etc.

“But I just want to ask a question, do you know who might be able to look at our fireplace?”

“Our team will, they’ll be there within the hour.”

“Uh, no, how about Friday morning?”

“It doesn’t work like that. If you smell gas, we have to come check it out within the hour. Those are the regulations.”

“But I’m at work! I can’t leave for home now.”

“Well, they’ll do what they can from the outside, and shut down the gas if they have to.”

“You mean I won’t have heating when I get home? But I DON’T smell gas! I’m not even at home.”

“But you said you smelled gas. Whenever anyone says that, we have liability laws that require a visit within the hour.”

“Okay, I SMELLED gas. Past tense. It’s gone, over, done, finito. Now there’s NO GAS. So cancel the visit.”

“I can’t do that sir. If you said you smelled gas, then we need to check it out.”

“But no I say I DON’T smell gas! Why not accept that! As I said, I’m 12 miles from home. I couldn’t possibly smell gas from here. Check where I’m calling from, it’s the medical center!”

After two supervisors, it was no good. I even pulled the P-card: professor, that is. All that did was have the supervisor cal, me professor, rather than Mr. Caplan.

My spouse managed to get home as they were shutting off our gas, about to send our guinea pig into enforced Siberia. But all is well now. Another day in the trenches.

And if you smell gas, think twice before calling “SNIFFY:”

sniffySniffy says, if you smell gas….

  1. If you detect a faint odor of natural gas, check the pilot lights. If the pilot light or burner flame is out, shut off the gas supply. Allow ample time for any gas accumulation to escape before relighting.
  2. If you smell an odor or know there is a damaged gas line, do not light any matches, candles, cigarette lighters, flashlights, motors or appliances. Don’t use the light switch, telephone or cell phone.
  3. Get everyone out of the building. Call us at XXX-XXX-XXXX to have the gas shut off from a phone not located in the building.

 

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Getting the boot–entropy in the absence of enforcement

6 pm on a cold Thursday evening, I bundled myself out of the research tower and headed down 3 flights of stairs to the car park. I moved to this new parking lot a year ago, and have been extremely pleased ever since. Despite the 3 flights up every morning, it is covered, meaning no scraping ice or snow off the windows–and in summer it stays relatively cool in the shade! What more can one ask for?

Getting the boot

It’s also not too far from my building (not that I mind walking, but I’m usually in a hurry). Added benefits: it’s a separate car park from the multi-level one, meaning no longer do I have to circle around like a vulture, worrying at every point that someone will back out into my car. I just get in and drive right off the lot. Joy of joys! Saves me about 5 min. on route to work and on the way home.

I do not take the issue of parking lightly. As a graduate student in Jerusalem, with the Hadassah-Medical center on a hill at the southwest side of the city, parking was chaotic–to say the least. One could risk parking on the shoulder of the hill beside the road–where many a car were stolen and sent to chop-shops, mostly in the West Bank. In fact, of the 6 people in my lab during the course of my doctoral research, 4 of them had their cars stolen*. Turns out that while Israelis and Palestinians cannot get a peace accord sorted out, the criminal elements on both sides can be highly cooperative when profits are to be made…

JERUSALEM CITYSCAPE

But even in actual parking lots at the hospital, chaos reigned. There was a lot that had parking spots on two sides, and of course people began to park in the middle, between the real spots. This made it nearly impossible for someone parked in a ‘real spot’ to wiggle out before those in the middle had left. Emergencies, you might ask? Well, it was a hospital…

Seriously, though, no one seemed to care. In fact, on a rare occasion when I did have to leave early in the afternoon–to get to the airport–I found myself pitching back and forth for 40 minutes until I could finally pivot my little Fiat Uno out of the lot. Other drivers were wiser–they would claim 2 regular spots, wasting a valuable space so they would be assured of a way to get out.

Now one can blame the drivers for this type of behavior, but I happen to believe that a little enforcement goes a long way to preventing entropy. And enforcement back then was non-existent. A waste of breath to complain to campus security–they were not interested. Back to their tea and biscuits.

The control for preventing parking entropy was admirably demonstrated as I headed to my car here in Omaha this week. My comfortable covered lot was starting to fill up more and more, and once (for the first time) I actually couldn’t find a spot. Despite the fact that there are fewer paying registered users of the lot than actual spaces. I know this for a fact. I also know that some paying researchers began to complain–most likely about unvalidated users from neighboring uncovered lots simply taking advantage.

So I was fascinated to see an orange sandal (similar to the one in the picture–which I should have photographed) adorning the car beside me as I approached. I sidled up, heavy jacket and all, to take a closer look. Sure enough, it was locked and the car lacked the required parking sticker. But as I got nearer, the door to the car opened, and an angry young woman came out.

I asked “What happened? Who put the boot on the wheel?”

“Security,” she answered. “And I have to pick up my kid–I’m going to be late.”

“How will you get it unlocked?”

“I have to wait for security–they’re supposed to be coming any minute. Can you believe it? Only my third ticket, and they do this? Isn’t that unfair?”

I smiled at her and said “Good luck.” As I drove off, though, as much as I sympathized with her plight, I recalled the alternative in Jerusalem. And I am certain that “getting the boot” will go a long way to preventing entropy in the campus parking lots.

* My own car was not stolen, probably only because it wasn’t worth stealing…

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Legacy 2012

Having just read poor Stephen’s “Year” I must admit that since Wed. I am not faring any better. My lymph nodes feel like coconuts, and my head feels as though someone keeps inflating balloons under my skin. I had hoped to use this respite–this quiet time between Christmas and the New Year–to catch up on writing papers, grants, and other obligations.

I had also intended to jump-start my third Lab Lit novel (tentatively titled: “Let My People Go“–about a student whose mentor does not want her to graduate yet)–and at least have had enough strength to get those matters moving.

In the spirit of another year about to pass, and the silly 1st year Blogiversary that I hastily put together last year, I thought I’d try to lighten things up a bit. So here goes:

Feeling as I do right now, Mayan calendar notwithstanding, I thought that I had better straighten out my legacy to Occam’s Typewriter. Should I succumb to the beastly virions that plague my innards, here is what I leave for everyone:

To Richard Wintle: My Pentax K1000 camera and a lifetime supply of AGFA film.

To Athene Donald: My axe–so you can continue to smash glass ceilings for gender disparity.

To Erika Cule: A copy of my Ph.D. thesis. In Hebrew.

KristiV: My lovely undergraduate zoology drawings that were jolly entertainment for my entire class.

Richard P. Grant: My old defunct BlackBerry.

Bob O’Hara: No cats, but you can have my daughter’s guinea pig.

Sylvia McLain: My favorite 3 liter box of red wine so you can fill the glass in your profile picture.

Jenny Rohn: My 2013 Journal of Cell Science calendar and some Paas dyes.

Austin Elliott: My Polar Bear Tournament 1st place reserve chess trophy.

Stephen Curry: A list of all the manuscripts I’m handling for the PLoS One open access journal.

Steffi Suhr: My snowblower, in case you go back to the Antarctic.

Cromercrox: You can share my BlackBerry with RPG, or perhaps he’ll give you the battery.

Frank Norman: A laminated copy of my Omaha Public Library card.

Cath Ennis:  My postcard with a beautiful picture of Manitoba’s provincial bird: the mosquito.

HAPPY NEW YEAR ALL!

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More on creative self-promotion…

Shameless. Simply shameless. But last chance for 2012….

Matter Over Mind and Welcome Home, Sir

 

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Out of control

The tragic, premature and incomprehensible loss of so many young lives due to the horrific shootings recently in Connecticut are a blight on American society. Unfortunately, this is not a new thing, although the massacre of children so young may finally have permeabilized the thick skin of prevailing American culture.

When I arrived in the US in 1998, there was an expression I heard in the lab that I had not been familiar with: “Go postal.” I learned, to my horror, that this referred to a string of violent weapon-based attacks by US postal workers (often ones who had been recently fired) on other postal workers–or people waiting in line at the post office. Apparently, such attacks were frequent enough to elicit an actual expression for someone becoming deranged and killing others with a firearm.

To be fair, I have been in this country for nearly 15 years, and I have yet to see a weapon in the hands of anyone not in police or military uniform; despite the fact that there are almost 300,000,000 guns in the hands of private citizens in the US.

My own views of guns and weapons are very clear; having fought in the military and carried a heavy, oily and uncomfortable weapon with me for 3 years, I would be happy never to see another weapon in the rest of my life. There’s nothing like having to take one’s weapon in the shower, toilet, to meals, and even sleep with it inside my sleeping bag (to avoid the possibility of it being stolen)–to “deromanticize” owning an assault rifle. The punishment for losing one’s rifle in the Israeli army (at least during my time) was 7 years in military prison. The punishment for misfiring it or even pointing it at another person in jest, even more severe. I think many of the “wanabee military” people might see things differently had they actually served their country.

On the other hand, from a purely practical standpoint, collecting 300,000,000 guns from the US public is a nearly impossible task–even if there were ever agreement for such changes in regulation. I admit that the solution is not as simple as in Scotland after the Dunblane murders, or in Australia after the killings in Tasmania. What I am most concerned about is the lack of recognition that things are not as they should be, and that modest and common sense measures can go a long way to making such horrible incidents less likely to occur. There are never any guarantees that all violent acts can be prevented, but there are certainly opportunities to decrease their likelihood.

I therefore felt an awful tightening of my gut this morning as I watched the executive vice president of the National Rifle Association (NRA) being interviewed on one of the news channel talk shows. Mr. LaPierre advocated for armed guards in schools, and used Israel as an example where this system provides preventative measures. I would argue that the concerns in Israel are entirely different, with violence being more ‘predictable’ in the form of terror, and the situation being radically different. Nonetheless, despite these points, I can’t entirely disagree that retired police officers or trained security personnel might partially make our schools safer. But when asked about any change to the current gun laws, Mr. LaPierre was suddenly entirely dismissive, unwilling to admit that banning ammunition clips that hold 30 or more bullets, or that background checks on gun purchasers at gun shows would also likely help decrease the number of the tragic mass murder incidents.

This lack of common sense in approach–the idea that it being legal for citizens to own assault rifles with ammunition clips that allow them to fire tens of rounds in a minute–is jarring. Every time he was asked by the interviewer why he would not support these two simple common sense initiatives, there was no real reply. It was either avoiding the question and returning to armed guards, or changing the subject.

My 15 years experience in the US has taught me that the American people are sophisticated, clever and honest. In the past election I watched as Americans rejected backward agendas and pushed forward with common sense to embrace civil rights for gay couples, common sense approaches to contraception, abortion, and other social issues. For this reason I retain optimism that the American people will see through the NRA’s slippery slope argument–the weak and out of touch argument that if assault rifles and military-style ammunition clips are banned then soon all so-called 2nd amendment rights and gun ownership will come under scrutiny. After all, there is no other reason that the NRA puts forth to support their position on not closing the loophole that allows anyone to buy guns at a gun show, and anyone to buy these high caliber military style assault rifles–except the slippery slope argument.

I call on the pragmatic people of this country in both major parties–those grieving the tragic loss of life–to call the bluff of the NRA and act–before the next mass shooting occurs and we awaken to the reality of having done nothing to try to prevent it.

————————————————————————————————————–

Note from Dec. 25, 2012:

Since posting this, spokespersons on behalf of the Israeli government have taken issue with Mr. LaPierre’s comparison of Israel’s use of armed guards in schools, pointing out (as I did) that armed guards are used to contain terror, not random mass shooters–and that restrictions on guns in Israel are tight and only security personnel are allowed to own and bear arms.

 

 

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