Time Passages (with apologies to Al Stewart)

Since daylight savings time kicked in a few weeks back, I've been contemplating the nature of time and how we measure it. Our obsession with slicing time up into manageable pieces is far from a modern development, but we do seem to split the proverbial hair more minutely all the time.

Let's look at the basics. Before people understood concepts like the rotation and orbit of the earth, they probably managed their lives by the simple alternation of light and darkness. Daytime activities likely did not transition well into night, when people yielded to their circadian rhythms.The necessities of life came from the earth and the sky; the pursuit of sustenance and shelter occupied the unmeasured time.

But even then certain patterns regarding the division of time must have been obvious: the cycle of the moon; the changing seasons; the gestation period before birth. These are yet today fundamental to our understanding of the universe and our place within it.

I imagine that the taming of fire initiated gradual changes in the organic interaction between man and nature. Portable light meant the night could be made shorter.  A baby step in the direction of controlling time, though seasonal and other cyclical phenomena remained untouchable.

Each subsequent advancement in the knowledge and skill base of human beings seems to have enabled us to move outside natural rhythms a bit more. Somewhere along the way, rudimentary calendars and diaries began to take shape. Events and stories were recorded in paintings and hieroglyphs, a deviation from the verbal tradition of simpler times. The predictability of the lunar phases was boldly acknowledged; humans were not only marking time but began sectioning it off well into the future.

Eventually, humans realized we did not have to remain bound to the land and the seasons inextricably, nor live by faith any longer: a few visionaries revealed the intricacies of mathematics and science, and the universe lost a great deal of its mystery. The machines we designed, including timekeeping devices, grew more complex as we became more sophisticated.

The growth of industry and the advent of globalism necessitated accurate and universal measurements of many media, including time itself. Suddenly we were locked into the schedules demanded by manufacturers, and many of us became forever locked out of anything resembling a natural relationship with time.

Fast forward to today. What is the first thing most of us do on any given day? Wake up to an alarm and immediately check the time. From then on, it feels like a tug-of-war between us and the clock. Think of the many phrases we have that reference time, particularly as an enemy:

Time flies when you're having fun
A race against time
Time waits for no man
A day late and a dollar short
Time is a-wasting
And so on, ad nauseum.

Is this obsession with time the cause or the result of our mincing it into ever-smaller segments? There is an inherent and unavoidable sense of failure built in to competing against something we can never change; perhaps by breaking it into pieces as tiny as possible, we hope for small victories. Maybe we are reaching the upper limits of our abilities, forcing us to measure new achievements in finer and finer units.

The modern Olympics, begun in 1896, represents the epitome of achievement in sports and international relations. Accurately recording times is a high-profile facet of the games, and a practical science has grown up dedicated to the development and application of timekeeping principles. I found several informative articles about the methodology used to measure time at the games; interestingly, a term I had always assumed was just a buzz phrase--"photo finish"-- originated from the use of technology to photograph the finish line and the time in one shot during Olympic events. An early version of photo finish cameras was used as early as 1912. (See this chronology of Olympic timekeeping by Lacy Perry at howstuffworks.com.)

That's a huge leap from mechanical stopwatches of the previous games. The Olympics now also employ technologies like touch pads in the pools, radar guns for beach volleyball meets, photoelectric cells with laser beams, and digital imaging at 2,000 frames per second. (Steve King's vanityfair.com article gives a nice overview of many applications.) Results are recorded to the millisecond, with the winner sometimes determined "on the basis of a single pixel’s worth of difference between competitors." Where can we possibly go next?

And now that our transition to digital everything seems nearly complete, what about the old school methods? The possibility of losing them to history looms. Let's return to the basic idea of time in our daily lives. A middle school teacher I know recently mentioned that it is not uncommon for her students to be unable to tell the time from a clock with numbers and hands. Kids in their teens and younger have basically never needed to learn how, having grown up in the digital age. Asking them to break the hours into quarters or halves reveals a similar deficiency; some of her students simply don't understand what "a quarter to three" means.

Is it important to hold onto analog timekeeping skills? Yes and no. I find it almost quaint when I see someone wearing a wristwatch these days, so there's a part of me that realizes how old-fashioned analog has become. On the other hand, though, it's also sort of retro-chic, particularly on a young person like my son, who has not only several wristwatches but an antique pocket watch he favors as well. I like the idea of a wind-up mechanism, no batteries required; the less dependence on outside energy the better, no matter how insignificant the draw.

I like regular old clocks anyway, with the steady sweep of the second hand, the little jump of the minute hand, and the comparatively majestic movement of the hour hand. Round and round the dial they go, in their familiar way, unnecessary now perhaps, but, yes, worth having. A digital cuckoo clock, or a grandfather clock with non-functional weights and pendulums would take the joy right out of the experience.

Daily life requires punctuality and routine to a great degree, which means we are not escaping the march of time or its measure by whatever vehicle. I, however, am definitely going to have to draw the line at milliseconds; anything smaller than that is, as they say, above my pay grade.

(Click here for a livescience.com video about Olympic timing.)

To My "LOST" Friend

This is an open note to a friend whose leaving has created a hole in my life...

Dear Grumpy,

It was a year ago today that I last heard from you; remember the text message you sent the morning of March 6, 2012?

"I just wanted 2 thank u again 4 the LOST card u gave me. I really like it," was all you wrote, and there has been nothing since.

I am aware now of the significance of that date, as you surely know. The chain of events set in motion was a bit surreal, and I had trouble dealing with it, but I did what I thought would help. My hands were tied from any further action, especially without word from you.

You could have called me; you still can. I assure you that our policy of not holding judgement over each other stands firm. Maybe you lost that silly dog-tag I gave you with my number, but you know where I am. Send me an email through this blog, or ask your sister to message me on LinkedIn, or whatever. I can't find you, and on some days I am LOST without you.

If there is something you need to say but feel you can't, I hope you will set aside any misgivings and reach out. I respect any boundaries you want. Please forgive me for anything I may have done wrong toward you; believe it when I say I tried my best to be a good friend.

I am heartbroken.
Love from Bashful

Snow Angels 101

A couple weekends ago we received about six inches of snow here at the shore in central New Jersey. That's a respectable showing, not too crazy but not so little that it didn't feel like a real snowstorm. As the flakes fell, I thought about the many snowy places where I have been or lived, and the fun and creative things people do with snow...

Wherever enough snow piled up and stayed awhile, my brothers and I loved to tunnel and make igloos. Look at this snapshot, circa 1980, taken in Pittsburg, NH, the northernmost town in the state:

I know the quality of the photo is terrible, but what great memories from visiting our relatives over Christmas break! Feet of snow on the ground as a normal thing was wondrous, and we could not get enough of sledding, snowmobiling, making snow forts and having snowball fights with cousins and friends. It was always fascinating to me that people up there actually owned snowshoes. Though it was a way of life for the locals, to me it all seemed a little exotic.

A bottomless supply of long underwear, head and hand protection, ski coveralls and boots appeared like magic, conjured by my Aunt Mary and Aunt Dallas. The old radiators in Grampa's house doubled as drying stations for soggy things, and I remember the distinct smell of wet woolens, the sound of small chunks of ice falling to the floor as the heat released them. If you didn't get caked in snow, you weren't doing it right!

Commercially made gear may keep the hands and head warmer through technology, but there's just nothing like hand-knitted mittens and pom-pom hat to keep your heart toasty. I still have many of the things my Mom, grandmothers and aunts made for me; my favorite is a white stocking hat, a good 30 inches long, that I wore every winter for years:

Anyone interested in knitting something like this, click here to get instructions, thanks to Sarah E. White at knitting.about.com!)

Now, the reason for today's blog post title: I wondered if making snow angels, an innocent, no-tech activity, was too old school for kids today, but no! People still get on their backs and flutter to make angel impressions. In my research, I found not only a how-to site with instructions, but a different take on the phrase as well, as seen in Jay Lindsay's sci-tech-today.com article about a "'snow angel' campaign" in the Boston area, where angelic concepts like guardianship, protection and assistance were alive and well among people helping others dig out from the blizzard. Our moderate snowfall was nothing compared to the massive amounts dumped on parts of New England by the same storm.

One last bit about snow angels...do you have any idea what the world record is for number of people making snow angels simultaneously? I was astounded by the figure: 8,962. See an aerial view of this feat with the article I found on usatoday.com. Amazing!

Super Bowled

Football is a uniquely American sport, something we take great pride in as a nation. Many folks are die-hard fans of particular teams, no matter where they live or how the team performs. The devotion to certain players and knowledge of statistics by some people I know is impressive and, frankly, a little unsettling. I don't follow the game schedules or pay much attention during the regular season, but I like to see the Pittsburgh Steelers make the big one. (Carnegie Mellon University is my alma mater.)

The Super Bowl is one of the United States' top draws in terms of television viewing, gambling, socializing and topics of conversation. I tuned in last Sunday, along with over 108 million other viewers, according to International Business Times. Considering that those numbers absolutely blew away the viewing statistics for last fall's presidential election, I'm quite sure we take our football championship very seriously indeed. It is an event we can count on, having never been cancelled, an annual match held on our soil, by the top two teams in a sport dominated by American-born players (over 96% in 2011, see chart.)

This year's Super Bowl brought a ton of highlights: numerous game and NFL records were tied or set; a first-time ever Super Bowl blackout occurred; the opposing team coaches are brothers Jim (for the 49ers) and John (for the Ravens) Harbaugh; wagers in Las Vegas hit record highs. Even the half-time show featured a reunion of Destiny's Child, who haven't performed together since 2006.

Of course, there's a wide audience who turn the game on partly to see the latest crop of commercials, and at $3.8 million per 30-second slot, (sportsbusinessdaily.com) advertisers certainly count on converting viewers into consumers. My personal favorite this year was the Budweiser "Brotherhood" spot. What can I say? I'm a sucker for baby animals, even when they grow to over six feet tall and average 2,000 + lbs, as that little one will. The Budweiser Clydesdales are even more impressive in person, by the way; I have had the pleasure of seeing some of them at SeaWorld in Orlando, Florida, one of the places they are kept.

Interestingly, most of this year's viewers did not change the channel during the 34-minute blackout. According to huffingtonpost.com, a vast majority of the audience stayed put. I attribute that loyalty to the fact that the length of the break was unpredictable, and most people would not want to miss any of the action once the game resumed. And there's no denying that there's something compelling about not knowing what was going on.

On site, the feeling was quite different for a certain segment of the fans, as Randall Lane, calling it the "Surreal Bowl," posits on forbes.com. (I have to admit that when referee Jerome Bolger said "Let's go!" to resume the game, I had a momentary mental flash on those now-legendary words of Todd Beamer on 9/11, "Let's roll.") The first time the Superdome in New Orleans hosted a Super Bowl since repairs made after Hurricane Katrina in 2005, this event was a trial of sorts for the city and the facility, with unfortunate mixed results. In uncertain times, imaginations can run wild with terror when bad things happen. A faulty electrical relay has been blamed for the problem, and replacement parts are coming.

Whatever your reasons for watching this iconic American sporting event, this year's game delivered in every way. It truly could have gone either way; to me the 49ers seemed a completely different team out there when the game resumed in the third quarter, post-blackout. Maybe they saw the lights going out on their efforts, metaphorically, and dug deeper for the resolve they needed to launch a comeback.

It was not enough in the end, sadly for anyone with money riding on them. I didn't place any bets, but I had chosen the Ravens...selection process: Baltimore is closer to the east coast than San Francisco. No, I'm not kidding about that. When the Steelers fail me, random selection is just as good as any other method. Here's hoping the black and gold make it next year.

Thrift Therapy

Last weekend I went to my favorite local bargain mart, the Saint Agnes Thrift Shop in Atlantic Highlands.

 (Photo thanks to houseofguise.blogspot.com! See her blog about the shop here.)

While there, I overheard a shopper saying to the cashier how much she enjoyed browsing in thrift stores. She called it "Thrift Therapy." Her phrase struck a chord with me, and I have been savoring the concept since. My gratitude goes out to my fellow thrifty patron; she put the perfect label on how I feel about shopping in places like Saint Agnes.

People close to me know that I really don't enjoy shopping. I typically buy only necessities, and my overarching goal is to pay no more than what I feel is reasonable. Don't get me wrong; I'm not neurotic about it, just conservative, though the injustice of spending upwards of $50 for a single blouse made in a country known for paying below-poverty-level wages is usually enough to nix it for me.

I know someone who absolutely lives for buying and possessing things with certain brand names, who believes that the higher the price point, the higher the status an item bestows on its owner. It is to her I write here, in praise of thrift shopping.

Dear -----, I understand the thrill of buying something new. It has never been worn, carried, driven, played, applied or otherwise used by anyone but the original owner. It comes tagged or packaged, complete, graced with unsullied beauty and uncompromising usefulness, perhaps even with a lovely smell: in short, its own perfection. All these features are wonderful, and may be extended at length by loving care.

Of course, the moment you achieve the prize it begins to tarnish, doesn't it, though? Edmunds.com published a startling graphic about the depreciation rate of a new car, starting with driving it off the lot. They estimate a loss of about 9% of the purchase price the first minute of ownership. So what is the true value of anything we buy new, at any point in its life?

Clothing can easily disappoint. Even with careful attention to laundering instructions, some pieces may shrink or begin to fade or pill. The new item suddenly looks or fits wrong, and it lands at the back of the closet. All that money spent turns into something marginal rather quickly. The rush of the acquisition has already burned out, probably before you got home with it.

Other things grow weary, too. They experience the aging process at varying speeds, but eventually everything falls into that all-purpose dustbin called "used." Certain durable things stay beautiful and useful, like dishes, hand tools, furniture...only to suffer the indignity of becoming "dated." Then we have to decide whether to do as our grandparents did and wait until something breaks to replace it, or go ahead and spend money again to update.

My personal shopping inhibitors are crazy pricing; limited choices of goods made in the USA; avoiding impulse purchases; feeling satisfied with what I have most of the time; finding better uses for my discretionary funds; being creative with making things rather than buying them; and an abiding belief in the tenets of recycle/reuse. People tell me I need to loosen up and enjoy shopping more, but, in truth, I find it very stressful because it seems so often unjustified.

Now, my extravagent friend, let me explain why thrift shopping is different. The items for sale have been donated. There's no corporate entity trying to make its profit margin, inflating the prices to pay every link in the retail chain. There's no luster to wear off; it's already gone, and you know exactly what you're getting. There's no letdown in expectations, because you're buying something on its merits. Used does not necessarily mean used up; I have found many gems among the offerings.

The shopping experience itself is both scintillating and relaxing. There are no crowds at the thrift shop, and no competition for the wares on sale. I may go with the hope of finding something particular, but many times I just enjoy the slow-paced browsing and the potential to get lucky. No salesperson hovers around, buzzing annoyingly. Saint Agnes is staffed by volunteers, helpful if you ask but not looking to score a commission on your purchase. The lack of an agenda by anyone in the place is refreshing, and I enjoy seeing the familiar faces there.

Finding USA-made products is often easier among older things, which I consider another positive feature of thrift shopping. I feel better about buying used imported products than new ones, simply because they are in the domestic system already. To me that makes them American, and their purchase on this go-around helps our economy rather than filling the coffers somewhere else.

The monies spent stay local, in the form of programs for the church or aid to the community, a fulfilling support-a-good-cause facet of places like Saint Agnes Thrift Shop. Consumers of modest means are served well, and everyone gets a deal. Why not enjoy the benefit of a great bargain while donating to a charity? Why not give back a little in this unassuming, virtually effortless way?

Finally, think of the impact on the environment. These items were produced in the past, so the resources to create and distribute them were already expended. The only new costs incurred to put them back into the consumer stream are the fuel to drop them off at the shop; the operations expenses for their temporary storage; cleaning, tagging and bagging costs; and the energy to get them to their new homes upon purchase.

Let me circle back to the idea of "Thrift Therapy" for a moment. I hope you can see now why that phrase resonated with me, by all I have shared here with you. Of all the little pleasures in life, this one is so innocuous yet effective! It encompasses garage sales in many respects as well, yard sales, tag sales, consignment shops, and so on. I leave you with one last thought on the subject: your credit card limit will never be jeopardized at most thrift shops...cash and checks rule, so go with a smile on your face, a short wish list, and a small mad money stash in case you find that sweet deal.

Color Psychology Basics, Just for Fun

What is it about your favorite color that draws you to it? I find that colors I favor evoke a positive emotional response of some type; they ramp up my reaction to a greater degree than other, less intriguing hues. Color is on my mind continually, from apparel choices to decorating schemes, to metaphors about emotional state of mind. I often connect the weather or season to color choices for the day. When buying my house last year, I felt strongly that signing the papers in black ink, with a particular candy-striped pen, would bring me good luck as a homeowner.

There's little doubt that color psychology plays a role in our lives. Arttherapyblog.com has a good, basic chart of the common meanings associated with various colors. Most people dress to either project an image or to feel a certain way. Muted, darker colors in apparel convey competence, professionalism, and authority, all traits desirable in a business setting. A brighter splash of color invites attention and indicates confidence; think about the trend in "power ties" which are often red or incorporate red. Medical personnel frequently wear blue or green scrubs, cool colors and relaxing to be around.

Philosophical and therapeutic theories abound as to the relationship between color and mood in human beings. Carl Jung believed that the art produced by his patients (as well as himself), the colors and symbols they used, provided insight into their psyches and an avenue to healing. The notion of therapy through the use of color, while considered unscientific, has been popular for millennia. A holistic school of thought on chakras and energy flow relies heavily on the body's supposed interaction with frequencies of light and color.

The 12 Season Color Theory analyzes a person's natural coloring into"seasons," based on dominant and secondary characteristics, into a chart like this, to determine what colors look best in clothing and make-up:

(Borrowed from Prettyyourworld.com, with thanks.)

Consumers' response to packaging and advertising is the focus of much marketing research. One reason logos are trademarked is to protect the specific colors developed by those corporations to get their brand front and center. Next time you go shopping, be aware of how much you rely not only on the familiar brand name of your favorite products, but on the package design and color scheme.

Decorating is an expression of the mood you wish to invoke in a certain space. It is desirable to have a relaxing ambiance in your sleeping quarters, which leads many people to use cooler or neutral colors in bedrooms. Yellow is popular for kitchens; it encourages appetite and feels sunny and cheerful. Study areas often benefit from natural tones to allow concentration. Color choices, down to the particular shade within a color family, affect the sensation of warmth or coolness, coziness or openness, statement or neutrality of the room. Notice how you feel in rooms of different colors, and whether you feel the scheme makes sense for the purpose of the room.

Just for the fun of it, I took an informal poll of favorite colors last week. Of the 58 responses I got, the overall color favorite was blue, at 25.8%. Here's the breakdown by color, without respect to age or gender:

Among just males, this chart shows the line-up:

And the female preferences stack up as follows:

Interestingly, I did not find a strong correlation between age and color preference. It appears that females overall favor what are considered warmer shades: pink and purple are strong. Green seems to have universal appeal for both sexes, understandably as a natural, refreshing color. Males in my sample group overwhelmingly prefer blue, as well as other cool hues, over the red-family or warm tones.

My favorite color is red, and has been for as long as I can remember. It feels energetic and exhilarating to me, a bit dangerous even. Among my survey respondents, I am one of just four (two males and two females) who chose red.

What does this little study say about color preference overall? Just that it is an interesting topic, with slight gender-based trends. The beautiful thing is that color preferences and meanings are not carved in stone; every choice can be a new one. Enjoy!

Bring the Stars Back

Recently I had dinner with a friend, a woman in her 70s who has lived her entire life in NJ, the most densely-populated state in the US. As we exited the car in the early winter evening, she looked skyward and asked if I thought there were fewer stars than in the past. She said she had read that it seems that way because of all the artificial light we produce.
 
Her remark really got me thinking about how humans have turned night into day in many ways, and why it might be desirable but also destructive. Since we discovered fire some 1.6 million years ago, we have had the ability to generate light, and the trend toward controlling darkness has continued ever since.

It's easy to list the benefits of natural light: better visibility for safety and productivity, and elevated hormones for better mood, among other things. But does artificially extending the number of hours of light in a day present a physiological downside? All living creatures have circadian cycles, naturally established bio-rhythms that govern important functions like digestion, growth, reproduction and migration. Only humans seek to manipulate or alter these built-in patterns, and to some extent we are successful at it. Unfortunately, our efforts in this arena do not affect only us; plants and animals similarly exposed to our artificial light suffer from changes to their natural cycles. From hatchling turtles confused about the way to the ocean, to birds migrating off-schedule, we are not alone in experiencing unhealthy changes to life cycles. (See Verlyn Klinkenborg's article "Our Vanishing Night" on Nationalgeographic.com.)

The ability to work (or play) through the night may seem a boon to industry, service and even pleasure pursuits. Studies have shown, however, that people who do shift work or night work are more prone to experience poor sleep quality, health problems, family and emotional stresses related to being out of synch. A persistent state of exhaustion makes driving and other similar activities more hazardous as well.

And is the type, quality or intensity of artificial light healthy? No, in many cases. A study by the AMA last year, entitled "Light Pollution: Adverse Health  Effects of Nighttime Lighting," addresses in particular the blue spectrum lights now commonly used in vehicle headlamps and electronics equipment. Not only do people experience discomfort from the glare, there is evidence of a possible link between exposure to such lighting and various health problems, vis-a-vis disruption of our natural cycles. Sky and Telescope e-magazine blogger Camille Carlisle presented an excellent review and summary of the AMA article.

In his farcical 1784 essay, An Economical Project, Benjamin Franklin wrote about forcing Parisians to rise with the sun, presumably to tire them out by dark, in order to save on candle costs. What are the financial advantages and drawbacks to generating artificial light? A manufacturing enterprise that runs all the time is theoretically more productive than one that shuts down for several hours in the same 24-hour period. Deduct from any additional profit the operating costs to keep plants open at night, pay the workers the shift differential, cover related healthcare costs, and maintain equipment than runs nonstop, and what is the real financial gain?

Superstorm Sandy ripped through our area on October 29, 2012. For days, weeks, even months in some cases, we were without power all along the coast, here in New Jersey and beyond. One thing I noticed immediately was the utter darkness we experienced at night, and (setting aside the hardships of the situation for a moment) how soothing it felt without the constant glare of light. Over the holidays, did you take note of the differences in effect and sensation to your eyes between older style decorative lights and the newer, brighter LED bulbs? It is said that candlelight is the most flattering; I am starting to believe it is the closest to natural light and possibly the least harmful, too.

There may not actually be fewer stars in the sky, but my friend is correct in her observation that we can't see the stars nearly so well as we used to. I only hope that by the time I am her age we have not washed the view out completely with the fake sparkle of artificial light.