With one hand digging into the pocket of my jeans and the other clutching an ice coffee that doubles as a cold compress against my throbbing temple; I squint to catch a glimpse of the daily headlines and pulled out a $5. Maybe I would only get to read the headlines, maybe I’d get enough of caffeine high to take me through the Metro Section. But it would be the Times! And I can use any as many vocab boosting exercises as I can get. I get a corner seat on a train that was mercifully quick in arriving on the sweltering platform. I settle in for a long ride and glance lovingly down at my iced coffee and NYTimes. Seductively scrolling through the section headings, it catches my eye. It’s the Science Times! I love the Science Times. You think I’m a nerd now, just wait. Wow! The Cosmic expansion of the universe, a giant color picture of the mating green male Labord Chameleon of Madagascar, and Coverage of the 17th Annual International Aids Conference, in Mexico City. Jackpot!!!! I’m not really such a nerd. It just makes me feel good to get informed about the world through a different lenses and see if I can still make sense of it all. If I can get through what’s written on the first page and still understand the basic concept of what’s going on I think I’m doing pretty well. I give myself bonus points for any GRE words I see and know the meaning of. (You'll see them bolded from here on)Double bonus if I can find a way to introduce my new found troves of knowledge in casual conversation at some point in the day. So I’m thinking; better deal than the sunglasses I got at Loehman’s, which thank goodness I have on. I seem to be going for the au natural, no makeup look and plugging along on coffee and sheer will. I take a deep breath and a big sip and start reading…
Turns out, the universe is still really, really big and really, really old. I dig the idea of an unquantifiable “dark energy” and “dark matter” floating around in the universe. I got historical perspective on the Hubble telescope but the coffee was not strong enough to take me to a deeper understanding of the mathematical foundations of the Hubble constant…And what a pretty green tetrapod that is. And now on to something to open up the social conscious, geopolitical corners of the mind’s eye. Perhaps I can glean new undisputable scientific facts, figures or some ground breaking research, which I secretly hope will provide me with the graceful ammunition to counter some bombastic small minded Cretan I may encounter at work. There is nothing like fact to confuse people. It certainly gets me every time.
What a depressing read that was. A real 1 step forward 2 step backwards feel. A verbose article to say we are treading water and doing it badly. Dark colors, indicating the most severe HIV stricken areas, covered Africa and Asia like the AIDS Quilt in D.C. This must be part of that dark energy that is floating through the universe. There must be a way to move this energy, this dark matter. I’m no Einstein but it seems abject poverty has some sort of adverse affect on controlling the spread of any endemic virus.
So it’s back to this cute little Furcifer Labordi chameleon desperately looking to propagate his fragile and ancient species. With little more than one ephemeral season before the life history of this species dictates their “synchronized” death he and his entire generation have one shot to get it on. Talk about pressure. Not surprisingly the mating game is a frenzied often violent interaction. Ironically enough scientists believe the hormonal level which supports this harried mating season of the Labordi may also be the cause of their demise. They basically OD on hormones. Boy can I relate. Trying to find someone to propagate with certainly is stressful stuff and I think I still have a few good summers left in me. I mean I definitely feel on the clock but I’ve got a better deal than the little Labordi. But this is the Science Times and so I try to focus on the deeper scientific meaning of the research being done on the life histories of different creatures on the earth to help us better understand (and more than likely manipulate) our own. Amazingly enough these brilliant scientists have figured out that manipulating the life span, growth cycle, aging process etc. of any species has a direct sometimes adverse affect on other aspects of that creature’s life history. Wow I could have guessed that one. In any case my own recent heartache is momentarily consoled with the thought that I’ve got some mating seasons left in my life history. I hope.
Well, I did it 3 articles in the Science Times with coffee to spare. I ponder my own life history, mating rituals, hormonal levels and how Daniel Quinn’s, prolific talking gorilla Ishmael might relate this information to our own survival on this planet. I get really ambitious and start scanning the paper for any other eye catching headlines. Low and behold there it is, “More Woman Than Ever Are Childless, Census Finds.” Our life histories changing right before our very eyes. The Lizard article talked about this. About how a species will change and adapt it’s mating habits in order to accommodate some environmental or situational influence. And here we are doing just that, well almost… It seems us “Hispanic” women are still “bucking the trend” with our big childbearing hips. Not withstanding the increasing occurrence of the Latina anomaly, i.e. Hispanic females with or seeking degrees of higher education usually a generation or so removed from the immigrant experience. The article gave me the same weighted feeling as talking to my mom when she brings up grandchildren or my hazy career path. I feel as though some of that dark energy has floated right on top of my chest. I wonder how my statistical hermanas are dealing with this change in our life histories, specifically how they handle their mothers. While the general time line seems to be shifting the pressure to procreate hasn’t. Quite frankly, I wonder how all these educated Latinas anomalies are handling the pressure to succeed in the professional arena and pop a few out. A conversation about changing life histories is not going to cut it when my mom looks at me as though grandchildren were her dying wish. The article left me asking, what else besides a degree is holding these Latinas back from procreating? And when and if they do, who with? I feel my hormone levels rising. How do you deal when you realize you might actually want to propagate the species but are fighting a biological clock that has not adapted as quickly as other parts of your changing life history and a disproportionately small pool of similarly qualified mating partners? Have they just resigned themselves to the prospect of no children? What compromises have they had to make to have both a degree and a child? Just as a sense of impending doom about my prospects for procreation starts to settle in the train pulls into my station.
I gather my belongings and my thoughts. Well, looks I may have some more time left on that clock but it sure does seem to be ticking louder than it was before. But if I have learned anything from the little Labordi it’s not to let my hormones do me in. I take a deep breath, a final swig of coffee and decide I better hurry up and get that graduate degree so I have something to show for my lack of a child. Evolution is a bitch.
Turns out, the universe is still really, really big and really, really old. I dig the idea of an unquantifiable “dark energy” and “dark matter” floating around in the universe. I got historical perspective on the Hubble telescope but the coffee was not strong enough to take me to a deeper understanding of the mathematical foundations of the Hubble constant…And what a pretty green tetrapod that is. And now on to something to open up the social conscious, geopolitical corners of the mind’s eye. Perhaps I can glean new undisputable scientific facts, figures or some ground breaking research, which I secretly hope will provide me with the graceful ammunition to counter some bombastic small minded Cretan I may encounter at work. There is nothing like fact to confuse people. It certainly gets me every time.
What a depressing read that was. A real 1 step forward 2 step backwards feel. A verbose article to say we are treading water and doing it badly. Dark colors, indicating the most severe HIV stricken areas, covered Africa and Asia like the AIDS Quilt in D.C. This must be part of that dark energy that is floating through the universe. There must be a way to move this energy, this dark matter. I’m no Einstein but it seems abject poverty has some sort of adverse affect on controlling the spread of any endemic virus.
So it’s back to this cute little Furcifer Labordi chameleon desperately looking to propagate his fragile and ancient species. With little more than one ephemeral season before the life history of this species dictates their “synchronized” death he and his entire generation have one shot to get it on. Talk about pressure. Not surprisingly the mating game is a frenzied often violent interaction. Ironically enough scientists believe the hormonal level which supports this harried mating season of the Labordi may also be the cause of their demise. They basically OD on hormones. Boy can I relate. Trying to find someone to propagate with certainly is stressful stuff and I think I still have a few good summers left in me. I mean I definitely feel on the clock but I’ve got a better deal than the little Labordi. But this is the Science Times and so I try to focus on the deeper scientific meaning of the research being done on the life histories of different creatures on the earth to help us better understand (and more than likely manipulate) our own. Amazingly enough these brilliant scientists have figured out that manipulating the life span, growth cycle, aging process etc. of any species has a direct sometimes adverse affect on other aspects of that creature’s life history. Wow I could have guessed that one. In any case my own recent heartache is momentarily consoled with the thought that I’ve got some mating seasons left in my life history. I hope.
Well, I did it 3 articles in the Science Times with coffee to spare. I ponder my own life history, mating rituals, hormonal levels and how Daniel Quinn’s, prolific talking gorilla Ishmael might relate this information to our own survival on this planet. I get really ambitious and start scanning the paper for any other eye catching headlines. Low and behold there it is, “More Woman Than Ever Are Childless, Census Finds.” Our life histories changing right before our very eyes. The Lizard article talked about this. About how a species will change and adapt it’s mating habits in order to accommodate some environmental or situational influence. And here we are doing just that, well almost… It seems us “Hispanic” women are still “bucking the trend” with our big childbearing hips. Not withstanding the increasing occurrence of the Latina anomaly, i.e. Hispanic females with or seeking degrees of higher education usually a generation or so removed from the immigrant experience. The article gave me the same weighted feeling as talking to my mom when she brings up grandchildren or my hazy career path. I feel as though some of that dark energy has floated right on top of my chest. I wonder how my statistical hermanas are dealing with this change in our life histories, specifically how they handle their mothers. While the general time line seems to be shifting the pressure to procreate hasn’t. Quite frankly, I wonder how all these educated Latinas anomalies are handling the pressure to succeed in the professional arena and pop a few out. A conversation about changing life histories is not going to cut it when my mom looks at me as though grandchildren were her dying wish. The article left me asking, what else besides a degree is holding these Latinas back from procreating? And when and if they do, who with? I feel my hormone levels rising. How do you deal when you realize you might actually want to propagate the species but are fighting a biological clock that has not adapted as quickly as other parts of your changing life history and a disproportionately small pool of similarly qualified mating partners? Have they just resigned themselves to the prospect of no children? What compromises have they had to make to have both a degree and a child? Just as a sense of impending doom about my prospects for procreation starts to settle in the train pulls into my station.
I gather my belongings and my thoughts. Well, looks I may have some more time left on that clock but it sure does seem to be ticking louder than it was before. But if I have learned anything from the little Labordi it’s not to let my hormones do me in. I take a deep breath, a final swig of coffee and decide I better hurry up and get that graduate degree so I have something to show for my lack of a child. Evolution is a bitch.
