Sunday, November 2, 2014

It's the most wonderful time of the year!

Today is my favorite day of the year! The once-each-year gift of a full 25-hour day!  Such a glorious human contrivance and such fortunate ones are we - the receivers of that precious extra hour of sleep, or church, or hanging out with family, or reading the Sunday newspaper.

Now, join with me everyone:

Take in a nice full breath through the nose. Hold it for a moment. Exhale slowly through your mouth.

Ahhh.

Doesn’t that feel good? And doesn’t it feel good to know you could take the extra time for a meditative breathing pause and still be ahead for the day by over 59 minutes?

Photo Credit: Oatsy40 using Creative Commons License
Fall Back Day should be a national holiday. We should honor Benjamin Franklin, the alleged creator of Daylight Savings time. And he needs a day anyway. A key Founding Father, yet not a President, he gets the short-shrift on President’s Day. We should honor this great man. Maybe have a parade. One that lasts about 15 minutes because I want to use some of my extra time to sleep in a bit and the rest to catch-up on chores.

I read once an idea about Daylight Savings Time, and I can’t recall the source, but with modern technology and computers we could set our clocks ahead, every day, 10-minutes for the week, then reclaim it on Sunday. Think of it. Each day I’m sure we could easily come up with 10-minutes we just piss away. FaceBook, BuzzFeed, reading people’s blogs, whatever. Idle time. Instead of that, we simply allow the computers and the Internet to adjust our clocks and phones and DVR machines ahead 10 minutes each day, Monday through Saturday, for six days. Then on Sunday, every Sunday, after we’ve accumulated 60 minutes, we could Fall Back one hour! ONE HOUR! Amazing! And we’ll never miss those 10 little minutes each day during the week. Who needs it on a Monday anyway? Monday is bad enough already; it should definitely be 10 minutes shorter.

You may now be asking: "So, when can we create this magical utopian world of 25-hour Sundays?" I say: "Why wait?"

Lets get the smart people at the U.S. Naval Observatory, the head keepers of time in the land, to work in partnership with Google, probably Disney, and the Koch Brothers, who really run the country, to develop a plan for this. The 2016 general elections are just two years away. That’s plenty of time to work out the details and for at least one of the parties to adopt the plan in its party platform.

And that will be the party that gets my vote!

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

The only thing we have to fear

Each day I get the “Men’s Health Daily Dose” conveniently delivered right into my email in-box suggesting I should “Steal These Secrets to Be a Master of Any Grill,” or promising I can “Crush Belly Fat with Just Two Exercise,” or that I can “Discover the Greatest Sex Positions for Every Penis Size.”

Yeah, I know, I know. You’re probably thinking, “but John you all ready have discovered the secrets of being a master-griller.”

Thanks. It’s true.

And, well, in all modestly, I must say I really don’t need to discover the greatest sex positions for every penis size.

I really just need to discover the greatest sex position for one penis size.

Anyway, some years ago, I don’t even remember, I must have bought a book that would “Shred My Abs in 28 days,” or something like that, got on the Men’s Health email list, and never bothered to unsubscribe. About 50% of the time I delete the Daily Dose. 40% of the time I sort of skim the article. The remaining 10% I might actually read. Today’s I read. The headline: “Is It Safe to Eat Tuna Fish Every Day?

I like tuna. I used to eat lots of tuna. Maybe 3-4 cans per week. It’s inexpensive and a great source of protein. The dudes in the gym can tell you how great a source of protein it is. Lately I have been eating less as I have been eating less meat in general. But there was something about the headline that caught my attention, so I read it.

The article was about tuna and mercury. All seafood contains some mercury but tuna, a top-feeding predator, contains more than others. The article offers a formula based on body weight, type of tuna, and how much you can eat based on either the EPA or CDC recommended limits.

That’s right. There are two different limits. And get this: For the EPA it's .7 micrograms per kilogram of body weight and for the CDC it's 2.1 micrograms per kilogram.

CDC’s limit is 3 times as much as the EPA’s. 3 times! That’s quite a disparity. It would be kind of like the FDA saying, “we think the average American should consume a 2000-calorie per day diet.” And USDA saying, “Meh. We think 6000-calories per day is just fine. Plus it’s good for our farmers!”

By itself, this “big-federal-government’s-right-hand-not-knowing-what-its-left-is-doing” sort of thing would be worthy of a blog-length rant. And yet this is not what I want to share. What I want to share is the sadness I experienced as I read through the article.

Here is the source of my sadness: How did we get to a point where we have come to accept our heavy-metal, neurotoxin-tainted seafood to the point where the question is: How much mercury in my tuna can I eat? Shouldn’t the question, and article headline, be something like: “What the Hell is Mercury Doing in My Tuna?

Yeah, sure, occasionally there is some article or activity to raise awareness of food safety, but its usually around an e-coli outbreak. Let’s be honest. We don’t really care about this low-level poisoning. There is mercury in our food and, well, I guess that’s just how it is these days.

But we do get upset. About some things. Very well meaning folks still get all up in arms about the “harmful affects” of vaccinations even though that science was debunked years ago. And schools are closing and hand-sanitizer sales are up as “Ebola-panic,” a virulent form of fear that seems impossible to contain, breaks out across the land. Congressmen and women are calling to ban flights into the USA from West Africa. Messages of calm and restraint are met with calls and tweets for the CDC's chief to resign! Meanwhile the number of Ebola cases in the USA remains lower than the number of deaths each year from the scourge of deep-fried turkeys.

Where are the Congressional hearings on that? How do we know there it isn’t some shady terrorist outfit that has infiltrated cable-TV cooking shows luring na├»ve Americans into putting their American lives at stake by deep-frying a most American food on the most American holiday? How do we know if that is not happening?

The scary truth? We don’t.

Photo by kennejima (Flickr link)
Now back to that mercuried tuna: Efforts to shut-down coal plants are seen as a “war on coal” missing the point that those coal burning plants are what are putting that mercury into the atmosphere to rain down into rivers and oceans for fish to absorb and for us to eat in our tuna. With mayo. And onion. With a slice of tomato and melted cheddar on a lightly toasted sourdough.  Mmmm.

I know we all say we just want to live happy, safe lives. At least I do. I say it. But I wonder. I wonder if the truth isn’t closer to secretly wanting to be afraid all time; being on guard against something, whatever it is, just so we can exist at a heightened state of anxiety and readiness. Maybe it gives us a sense of purpose to worry about such things just outside our actual control. Maybe it is an evolutionary adaptation that conveys a survival advantage when poisonous snakes are around and saber-toothed tigers are licking their chops waiting to eat us. Being an all-the-time, on-alert Homo Erectus probably helped.

But those days are passed. Not everything is out to get us but we haven't evolved enough to proportionally allocate our worry according to the statistical probabilities. Rather the media hype-machine pulls our fight-or-flight triggers shooting warm rushes of adrenaline, norepinephrine, and cortisol through our frightened bloodstream. We get scared, then angry. It feels good. And just think how boring it would it be, day-after-day, to listen to Fox News or MSNBC open with: “Tragedy again today as 1,579 Americans died from various forms of heart disease. Let’s go to CDC headquarters in Atlanta for this troubling development.”

Who wants to hear that every night? That's boring. I might as well just make myself a sandwich then go to bed.

Now, where did I put the can opener?