Blackberry Picking PS: Wasps

When I wrote about picking blackberries earlier, I forgot to mention the wasps, hornets, and yellow jackets that share my love for blackberries. The red wasps are the worst. They are massive, menacing terrors that have the ability to inject you with a large quantity of liquid hellfire if you get in their way. A single sting from one of these monsters can cause more pain than an entire nest of yellowjackets. And they enjoy eating blackberries, especially the gooey overripe ones.

I didn't get stung last week. I have learned how to stay our of their way.

Random Memory: Geography Class

One day in my seventh grade history/geography class, our teacher
decided to make the class play Pictionary. We were supposed to use
the whiteboard to communicate the name of a place without writing any
words. I know that this was not her idea; she did it because it was
recommended by some kind of syllabus or activity guide.

I went first, and got 'Suez Canal'. I quickly sketched a map of
Egypt, drew the location of the canal, and drew a circle around it.
After about four guesses ( 'Egypt?' 'Cairo?' 'Sinai Peninsula?' 'Suez
Canal?' ) the class got the right answer.

Everyone who went after me started doing the same thing. They drew a
map, pointed to a feature, and the class was able to guess the answer
quickly. It was a fun, fast-paced kind of game show experience, and
we were all getting practice with drawing and reading the maps of
things we had studied.

It was obvious that everyone was having fun. It was equally obvious
that we were learning. Even the wrong guesses were helpful for
memory, because they were usually closely related to the right answer,
and that kind of word association is good for building mental maps of
concepts.

Then, for some reason, the teacher changed the rules on us. She told
us that we were no longer allowed to draw maps. Of course, the game
went downhill after that. The poor souls who got called up to the
board would have to try to think of a way to communicate something
like 'Nigeria' without any maps or words. It was boring, slow,
stressful, and no fun for anybody. And nobody learned anything or
practiced any useful skill.

I have no idea why the teacher did that. I guess that, for some
reason, she decided that we were not doing what the book said we
should be doing.

Blackberry Picking

I picked blackberries earlier this morning. For those of you who have
not had this experience, let me describe it:

First, I was wading through a hip-deep mess of poison ivy, weeds, and
brambles in search of the blackberry plants. The ground was rough and
my footing was uncertain. I would often have to maneuver through a
maze of young trees and large bushes. The day was heating up rapidly,
the sun was shining in my face, and I was sweating. Mosquitoes were
buzzing around me. I know for a fact that there are poisonous snakes
in that field.

When I actually find a good patch, I start picking them, and the real
pain begins. No matter how careful I am, my hand always gets
scratched up by the thorns. Picking the berries is somewhat delicate;
if I wear gloves I will ruin and drop the berries. The blackberries
usually grow alongside poison ivy, so I usually get that on my hands
and arms too. Usually this is not a problem, if I take a shower right
after I finish. But if the poison ivy oil gets in a scratch, it
causes a horrific line of blisters.

Why did I do this? Why do I undergo this discomfort and risk a
sprained ankle or snakebite in order to obtain a few quarts of
berries? I did not need the nourishment. Blackberries are really
healthy and have lots of nutrients, but I could get them from other
sources. Blackberry cobbler is good, but by any rational calculation,
it is not worth the effort and risk.

I pick blackberries because it is fun and I like doing it. Why? I'm
not really sure. Maybe, by some instinct, I like the sensation of
fighting the wilderness to get my food. It is a good reminder of what
was once necessary for human survival.

Atomic Nerds

Great Blog:

http://www.atomicnerds.com

They often have very good, very detailed posts discussing the science
behind current issues. This is the lecture you wish you got you in
science classes. An excerpt from the latest one:

"The human population and its genetic temperamental makeup is like
what you would get if family-car and race-car parts were distributed
randomly, instead of being assembled by a designer that knew exactly
what he was aiming for. Geniuses are what happens when you get a
complete race car by luck of the draw; the mad are what you get when
you get a car that has a race-car engine and suspension and
family-sedan seatbelts and brakes."

Fact versus Judgement

Yesterday I decided that I would try to jog for an hour. I wanted to
jog along the sidewalk toward the school for 30 minutes, then turn around
and jog back. I jogged out for 18 minutes, then decided to turn
around. But after about 6 more minutes, I gave up and started walking
instead.

I feel no guilt or shame over my failure to meet my goal. I
discovered that I could not do it. I know that I probably could have
pushed myself harder, but I did not feel like it. In my mind, my
performance is simply a fact about my endurance and running ability,
with no moral content.

This incident does a lot to explain why I am a happy person, and why I
don't accomplish very much.

Explosives

Last night's Fourth of July party featured a lot of serious,
high-powered fireworks, the kind that are illegal in most states.
There were rockets and mortars up to a 3 inch diameter. I could feel
the concussive force when they were launched. Our party was shooting
them off, as were several other people in the vicinity. It sounded
like a war zone, and looked like an alien invasion. It was great.

Rationality

Yesterday, at the Economics department's Fourth of July cookout, I saw
a mosquito sitting on the leg of another student and sucking her
blood. I reached over and swatted it. She said, without any
hesitation, "Thanks, I didn't see that one. Those things always eat
me up."

It was not until several hours later that I realized that anything
unusual had happened. In most situations, it would be considered rude
to smack someone else's girlfriend in the leg. My action might have
been rewarded with a slap or worse. But everyone there instantly came
to the correct conclusion that I was simply exterminating an insect.