Plant World Prequel

No Lenten reflection today, just some pictures of Plant World Prequel.  (Thanks to Richard Bonomo for suggesting the title.)  These were taken in June of 2004.

My amaryllis blooming amidst the other plants.  I still have this amaryllis, but currently it is dormant.  

This is the top I cut off a pineapple and planted.  It started to grow, then it sent up some lovely purple flowers with what looked like a little pineapple top above them.  As you can see, it then actually produced a tiny pineapple.  It was only three bites, but it was the best pineapple I'd ever tasted, and it smelled wonderful even while still on the plant.  I still have the baby pineapple top, which hasn't gotten much larger.  The mama plant sent up another, enormous plant and then died, and I still have that pineapple plant as well.  It is at least three feet high and just as wide in diameter, and it looks delightfully tropical, but it has never made any purple flowers or a fruit like its mother did.

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Alms: Not Just Good in Theory

Before getting to my Lenten reflection, I just want to mention the bizarre dream I had last night (mostly for Rich's sake, so he can reply): I dreamed that I was asking Rich if imaginary numbers had any practical application or were they purely theoretical, and could there be negative imaginary numbers, and he gave me a comic book about imaginary numbers. Then I realized that they could be used to solve the most puzzling questions of quantum physics! Wow! In my dream I used negative imaginary numbers to explain the ENTIRE cosmos! But of course I forgot the answer before waking up...

Huh, according to Wikipedia, you CAN use imaginary numbers in quantum physics. Well, maybe YOU can... I know as much about quantum physics as I do about brain surgery, despite my dream of solving The Equation. (Thanks to Douglas Adams, we already know the answer is 42; we just don't know the question.)

Today I am reflecting on almsgiving. As a little girl in Catholic school, I learned that we should always take just what we need and less than we want, so that others can have what they need. For reasons I can't explain, I somehow related this to indoor plumbing and thought I should never finish a glass of water, but instead poured the last third back down the sink so the "people down the line" could also have water. It seems crazy now, but I was seven so it didn't occur to me that I was actually wasting water, nor how incredibly disgusting it would be if people got water down the line from other people. The important thing is that those nuns instilled in me the idea that I should always think of others, and we should always do so, but during Lent we are called to do so in practical ways. One idea I had, which other friends have picked up on, is that if I go out to eat during Lent, I then have to give an equal amount to charity. However you decide to give alms this Lent, make sure it is something concrete, time or money or goods, because while imaginary numbers may have practical applications, theoretical charity is pointless.

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On the Fast Track

Today's Lenten reflection: fasting gives you a new perspective on things. Yesterday I fasted until after sundown, when I had a small cheese sandwich. And let me tell you, it was the BEST cheese sandwich I had ever eaten! Fasting makes you grateful for what you have and reminds you that others have much less. That is one reason to fast.

Another reason is for the love of God. This analogy may be a bit of a stretch, but imagine for a moment that you are a cartoonist who has created two characters, Pingo and Ooble. Pingo loves to eat cactus flowers and Ooble has a penchant for eggnog-flavored yogurt. You love your little cartoon characters, because you created them. Now imagine that they have free will. How amazing it would be if they freely loved you back!

Of course, Pingo could refuse to acknowledge that you created him and insist that he is a random spill of ink, but for the sake of this analogy let's say both cartoon creatures acknowledge that you created them. Then say that you had to have cataract surgery and couldn't eat your favorite food (say, persimmons) during your recovery. Pingo would say that's sad, but you created him to eat cactus flowers and he saw no reason to stop doing what he loves. Ooble would say she wanted to share in your suffering, so she would not eat eggnog-flavored yogurt until you could eat persimmons again. Wouldn't you feel a special affection for Ooble? You have to stop eating persimmons to save her (because she does not exist if you do not have your eyesight to create her), but she does not HAVE to give up her favorite food to help. She is doing it only to show her support, the way people shave their heads to show their support for a friend who is going through chemotherapy and losing her hair.

This is what Lenten fasting is. God doesn't say we have to give up chocolate, He created it and knows it is good, but when we give up something we love, we are sharing in His forty days of suffering in the desert. He suffered to save us, so we can show our gratitude by voluntarily suffering a little for his sake, not because He wants us to suffer but because it shows how close we feel to Him that we want to share in both His joy and His pain. That is true love.

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Happy Lent!

Happy Lent, everyone! How is your Lent going so far? Me, I can't complain. (Because I gave up complaining for Lent.) Here is my Lenten reflection for the day:

Last night Anna Banana II and I met some other people at an Indian restaurant, where we only had appetizers, and I had dessert while she had a mango lassi. Then we went to the local German restaurant for dinner because hey, on Mardi Gras (literally, "Fat Tuesday"), why not be decadent and eat twice? The German restaurant, oddly enough, has become something of a Mardi Gras mecca, but we did find a parking space fairly quickly. It took a little longer to find a seat, but we ended up sitting next to a raucous table that included MY choir director and some others from the choir who regularly patronize that restaurant. They gave us shots that were vodka and tabasco sauce and were impressed by our stoic responses to them. We got lots of beads and lots of Cajun food, most of which we were too full to eat after our Indian adventure. A Cajun band provided live music, and we had hurricanes in commemorative Bacardi Gras glasses.

And why I am I telling you all this? Because Mardi Gras would be meaningless if it were not followed by Ash Wednesday. In college I had a friend who wanted to find a holiday to celebrate every day, but I argued that if every day is special, then no day is. Mardi Gras is not about meaningless hedonism, but one last celebration before plunging into the deeply spiritual season of Lent. I love Mardi Gras and celebrate it every year, not because shiny plastic beads and silly drinks are so great for their own sake but because it is a sort of "bon voyage" party before I set out on a spiritual journey. And shouldn't every important journey start and end with a party? Of course, the party afterwards, when you have successfully made the journey, is even better. That's called Easter.

If you think giving up things for Lent is silly, try giving up that one indulgence of yours, say word game puzzles or salsa music or ePlush, for forty days. When you get to do it again, it will not feel like an addiction but like a celebration. Remember, if Jesus died for you, you can forego some chocolate for him.

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Calling All Cassowaries

Once a friend of ours asked us what our favorite animal was and the three reasons we liked it best. My other friends said things like horses because they are swift, noble, and beautiful, or dolphins, because they are intelligent, playful, and happy. I said llamas because they are cute, fuzzy, and badass. It turns out that supposedly this is how we see ourselves, and the others all laughed and said mine sounded pretty accurate, since they thought I am cute, fuzzy, and badass.

I do think that, if I were an animal, a llama would be a fitting choice. They are simple creatures who are able to climb mountains that other animals couldn't navigate. I am a simple person but I can do what needs to be done. Llamas are generally peaceful but spit at people when annoyed. That kind of sounds like me too! (I don't literally spit - anymore - but I can be verbally nasty when provoked.) Llamas are not, strictly speaking, beautiful but they are very cute. People say the same thing about me.

The second part of this psychology test is where things got weirder. We were supposed to name our second-favorite animals and three reasons we liked it. My other friends said things like tigers because they are beautiful, powerful, and majestic, but I said the cassowary because it's bizarre, cool, and can disembowel a man with one swift kick. According to this psychology test, that is what I am looking for in a significant other. This may explain my bad luck with men!

I have always thought that, if I were an element, I'd be xenon. Not only would I have a really cool name (so does ytterbium), but I would be happy alone but could be forced to combine with another element under great pressure. However, the result would be short-lived and explosive. That pretty much sums up my past romances. Now I realize, to borrow this other metaphor from nature, that I am a llama looking for a cassowary. No wonder it never worked out!

First of all, llamas and cassowaries do not even live on the same continent. Then there is the small issue of one being a mammal and the other being a bird. Cassowaries do have traits to commend them, like that the male raises the young, but they tend to be very shy and hide in the forest. And of course, when they are cornered, they can deliver a lethal kick. That does sort of sound like the men I've always been attracted to... Cassowaries are colorful (where they aren't drab) and have deep, resounding voices, which are good traits in men, but they are not so terribly bright. They are, however, quite tasty from what I've read. They are a very ancient type of bird, and with that weird casque on their heads they look a lot like a duckbill dinosaur.

I am wondering if I would have better luck in love looking for a man who is a tiger, or an eagle, or even a dolphin. Intelligent, playful, and happy sounds good to me! But if you are a cassowary and are looking for a llama, drop me a line. I promise to be very cute, fuzzy, and badass as long as you can disembowel a man with one swift kick.

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The Persistence of Memory (or Lack Thereof)

I seriously think Salvador Dalí was onto something: clocks are scary! When I was a child, I ran into two particularly frightening ones. One was in the living room of some friends of my parents; an enormous grandfather clock that was twice my height, it featured a picture of the West Wind personified, which was freaky enough, and it had a slowly swinging pendulum and a window showing some of the action moving around inside, but worst of all it would now and then emit an incredibly loud series of BONGS. I was about four at the time, and I was terrified of that clock.

A couple of years later I was forced to go on "play dates" with the daughter of my mother's friend, and it was bad enough having to contend with this spoiled rotten psuedo-friend, but in her mother's kitchen was a clock featuring a 7 which was clearly an upside-down 2. I was so terrified of that clock that I would not go into the kitchen, so of course that was where my mother and her friend hung out. I could not bring myself to enter a room with something so obviously against the natural order. I also hated clocks with Roman numerals that had IIII instead of IV for 4. Wrong, wrong, wrong!

As an adult I love analog clocks, and paintings of melting clocks. For some reason it is so much easier to understand time as an arc of a circle ("Hm, I have 38 degrees left before I have to leave for work") than the stark message of a digital clock: 7:03. What does that mean, really? And digital numbers have no personality. These days I would much rather see upside-down 2s and IIIIs than the cold little digital blips that make up 7s and 4s on so many clocks. Guess I've forgotten why things that are unexpected used to seem so scary!

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Crime Lab Club Med

As I may have mentioned once or fifty times before, I am training for a triathlon. So the other night I was at the health club running on the treadmill, and the TV was on. As I have also mentioned, I do not own a TV at home, so the experience of watching it is always shocking for me. This particular night someone had turned it to a crime drama, let's call it "Crime Lab Club Med," which held my attention raptly because it was SO unlike any lab I've ever seen before. For example:

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  Every lab I have ever seen was garishly lit. Granted, these were university labs, but I can't imagine real police labs have much better budgets. On CLCM, the lab had mood lighting!
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  Every lab I have ever seen is crowded with tons of equipment that does not look substantially different from the equipment we had in high school, back in the Cretaceous Era. On CLCM, there is very little equipment, and it is all brand new.
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  Every lab I have ever seen was populated by people in grubby old clothes, and open-toed shoes are not allowed. On CLCM, the people in the labs are incredibly hot women who wear slinky, low-cut outfits more appropriate for a nightclub than a lab where they are getting splashed with disgusting and possibly corrosive chemicals, and they all wear high heels with open toes. And nobody wore safety goggles...
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  Every lab I have ever seen was full of frustrated techs running experiments for the third time, hoping the numbers would match at least once. On CLCM, the techs take a teeny amount of organic substance and put it in a machine that swirls it around for two seconds, and then they get an exact DNA match displaying the name, birthdate, and current home address of the person. Wow! In Club Med County, they must have an extensive DNA bank of all citizens in a thirty-mile radius, and most of the illegal aliens as well. (Perhaps even the space aliens!)
  

Figure 1: Club Med County Alien in DNA Database

Obviously, with all this high-tech, amazing lab equipment, the photogenic young women in the CLCM can solve any crime that comes their way. So heed my advice, criminals in Club Med County: be sure not to leave even one iota of DNA where they can find it! And certainly don't be like the criminal in the episode I saw, where you think to wipe down the entire crime scene but then leave behind an incriminating piece of evidence like, say, a cell phone you have modified into a nuclear device. Not only does this make it that much easier for the curvaceous young ladies of CLCM to bust you (so to speak), but I would think you would need it yourself, or why take all that time creating it? Other than to advance the plot, I mean?

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