Why dating is a lot like this animal guidebook I bought at a thrift store

By: | December 28, 2016

Being single as a 35-year-old woman in the tech age is an interesting science experiment. There’s a lot that’s cool about it, like your time is all your own, you actually feel pretty good in your skin and you have some solid sense of what you want. You also get to tinker with tools of modern romance that your peers missed out on entirely, like Tinder.

If you don’t know what Tinder is, because you live under a rock (forgivable in these times, as it’s surely safer there), it’s a phone dating app that basically works like this: You set your age and gender preferences, set the mileage of your search radius, and then parse through hundreds of short profiles that the app pulls up for you, each with five or six pictures and a terse little bio, swiping left to reject and right to match.

My married friends and friends with children, who are legion in my social circles at this point, always seem to want to TRY my Tinder app. To them it’s both exotic and vaguely nostalgic, like a game on a Game Boy, if Nintendo had made a game where you were a rat trained to press a paddle over and over again expecting some reward, but then simply began pressing the paddle because there was ALWAYS MORE PRESSING TO DO.

Well, now I’ve discovered something that will truly illuminate the experience for the happily-attached-yet-curious. The other day I was buying, of all things, a baggie full of vintage wooden buttons, when I came across a battered 1972 paperback called READING the OUTDOORS at NIGHT: A complete guide to the sounds, sights, and smells of the wilderness after dark.

The book opens with what could be construed as an excellent explanation of what it’s like to when you first become single: “Many people find themselves in the dark, in the outdoors at night, for some reason or another. Some have gone for a walk and found the dark coming quicker than they imagined. Others may have a car break down and so be on a dark road for a while. Some, such as woodsmen and messengers, have to go through dark areas as a part of their work. … Some people go on hikes and get lost in the dark; they usually become thoroughly frightened.” Continue reading →

Sid Drell, 1926 – 2016, Whom We Still Needed

By: | December 27, 2016

Last Wednesday, December 21, Sidney Drell died.  I can’t imagine anyone called him anything except “Sid.”  He was 90.  He was a particle physicist who for a while was deputy director of the Stanford Linear Accelerator.  He had a persistent South Jersey accent which somehow seemed to go with his attitude that nothing was too frightening to look at and to tell the truth about.

In particular, he was a leader of the cadre of physicists who advised the government on how to defend itself against nuclear missiles and what to do with its vast collection of nuclear weapons.  He was, of course, intelligent; he was also complimentary about other people; he was kind, funny, perceptive, and humane.  Talking to him, you really couldn’t help but smile.  But this is a list of facts and adjectives, more of which are in a bunch of obituaries.  So I’ll tell a story. Continue reading →

On These Long and Softly Lit Nights

By: | December 26, 2016

Winter Solstice passed last week. I think of how far the Northern Hemisphere has pitched us into space this time of year, tipping us away from the sun’s light. This is when middle latitudes in the north get 9 hours and 30 minutes of daylight out of a 24 hour day. The North Pole sees no sun at all.

My house is solar, the batteries are old. It’s been cloudy and the generator back-up broke down last week. This means no power. Nights in the house went dark around the 21st. To get around, I turned the place into a constellation of oil lamps and candles. The wood stove flickers, sending shadows across the globe and behind the rocking chair. This feels like the best way to witness the heart of winter rise up and blot out the sky. Continue reading →

The Last Word

By: | December 24, 2016
A smaller wreath with a red ribbon and a bird on it.
This wreath was made entirely by a six-year-old, except for the hot gluing of the little bird. I should have let her do that part too; she would have done a better job.

December 19 – 23, 2016

The People of LWON, ever mindful of your comfort and convenience, have suggested some films to watch, should you happen to be sick and tired of holiday reality.

But since you need to do the holidays regardless, Emma has a national-forest-gathered evergreen wreath with a dead wolf-lichen-covered branch hot-glued to it you might want to consider.

Or maybe what you’re sick and tired of is political reality and you want to know what a writer should do about it.  Erik has three suggestions. The third one has to do with reality-based reporting.

And if you are in fact sick and tired of political and holiday reality both, Michelle suggests you could do worse than Poughkeepsie.  Or, actually, well, maybe you couldn’t, who knows.

Speaking of Poughkeepsie, a New Jersey mall that Rose lived near was probably haunted, if not by the cemetery then certainly by the elephant.

The Ghost of Old Mom

By: | December 23, 2016

Any suburban teenager can tell you that rumors live and die in the over-lit hallways of malls. How many times was I dumped outside a Wet Seal? None, because I was not popular enough to have boyfriends in high school. But plenty of other people were! Anyway, you know what I mean. Malls are the birthplace of rumors.

But when I was growing up, the Palisades Center Mall was home to a different kind of rumors.  

Continue reading →

Redux: In Case of Rapture, Head For Poughkeepsie

By: | December 22, 2016

Do these dark political times have you considering a move to Canada? I have another idea for you. Since this post was first published, in 2011, Poughkeepsie’s post-apocalyptic advantages have only increased.

A few years ago, I interviewed author and social critic James Kunstler about his novel World Made By Hand, his latest portrayal of a post-peak-oil future. Kunstler, as one might expect, had plenty of complaints — about suburbs, cheese doodles, Wal-Mart, the American road trip. But when I mentioned that I’d grown up in the Hudson River town of Poughkeepsie, New York, he perked up.

“Oh!” he said, sounding as if he’d almost cracked a smile.

People from Poughkeepsie are not, to say the least, used to this kind of reaction. Depending on your generation, you may know my hometown from Gene Hackman’s “Pickin’ your feet in Poughkeepsie” rant in The French Connection; from the Lemonheads song; or from the Friends episode “The One With The Girl From Poughkeepsie” (“How great can she be if she’s from Poughkeepsie?”)

If you know Poughkeepsie at all, chances are you don’t ache to return. The name is Wappinger for “the reed-covered lodge by the little-water place,” though a friend of mine translates it as “place of many strip malls.” We once made a decent living making hats, brewing beer, and shipping stuff up and down the Hudson, but those glory days are long over. (One of our most successful industries was whale rendering.) With a chronically lackluster downtown and boring burbs, we have neither urban sophistication nor rural charm. As Hudson Valley folkie Bill Ring puts it, “It’s bigger than a village, but it ain’t quite a city/ and it’s not a place a lot of folks are itching to go.” I love a lot of people in Poughkeepsie, but honestly, I prefer to meet them elsewhere.

Continue reading →

Creating With Nature: Making Holiday Wreaths with Boughs from Public Land

By: | December 21, 2016
a wreath made of fir, pine, cedar, manzanita, and oregon boxwood, with no bows or anything, hung on a door
My wreath, a little misshapen after eight hours in the car but looking wild and crazy, like I like them.

I am great believer in getting physical with nature. It is all well and good to take long walks, to photograph wildflowers, to gaze into the distance. But for many—and especially for kids—getting creative and interactive with the complex natural world is really what cements that bond between us and the outdoors. So for readers who don’t hunt or fish—the traditional North American mode of interacting physically with nature—I offer this as the first installment in an occasional series on how to create and play with nature. Subsequent installments might cover foraging for mushrooms, building forts, the art of the beach bonfire, or even landscaping with salvaged plants from sites slated for development.

For many of us schooled in the “leave no trace” philosophy of nature, approaching natural places with pruning shears or a shovel feels uncomfortable. But never fear! The men and women who manage our public lands generally make good decisions about where certain activities should be permitted, how much individuals should be able to harvest, and so on. If you stick closely to the rules, you can feel pretty confident you aren’t doing nature any real harm. And you may find yourself more interested and motivated to spend time outdoors, or to learn species names, when there is a project involved. I know my kids do.

So without further ado: here’s how to make gorgeous, practically free holiday wreaths for your friends and family.

Continue reading →

A Science Journalist After the Election

By: | December 20, 2016

Well, there it is. The people have spoken and now the Electoral College has spoken and we have our new president, Donald J Trump.

I strongly believe in the importance of an unbiased media – even if it’s just an ideal that we strive for and never really achieve. As journalists, I believe it’s crucial that we not be seen as taking sides. But it would be silly of me to pretend that I was unbiased about this election. I mean, I wrote a post speculating that our nation’s leader is secretly Latka from Taxi that became a weird sort of meme. And then I did it again because, I dunno, it was funny and the guy didn’t have a liberal’s chance in Texas of getting elected.

But he did and now I find myself in a difficult spot. Politics don’t revolve around science but they cross paths often enough, especially when it comes to conservation, climate, and energy. And as a journalist it’s my job to remain neutral and serve the truth as best I can.

But as a science journalist, it’s also my job to defend and uphold basic ideas in science like evidence, expert consensus, and impartial analysis of data. A sports writer may not root for a specific team but she does have to promote the sport and its best form of play.

So how do I go forward? Rail against Trump on Twitter? Keep silent? Break journalistic tradition and start donating to anyone who will oppose him? Every science journalist has to answer this for his or herself and I wouldn’t claim to have a monopoly on the correct way forward. But for myself, I’ve come up with a simple three-prong plan for the next four years. Continue reading →