Home Sweet Porch

What was I thinking? This experiment has completely metastasized and is now taking over my very existence. And the end of the day, it is all I can do to get on the bike and ride home to GP's house, where I have been sleeping on the porch (enclosed, but not heated) in my very cozy sleeping bag in an effort to try and avoid the dense thicket of allergens in his house-- what I now refer to as the catmosphere. This is potentially not going to last for the whole month, as every night I try to sleep inside, but when I lay down, and my lungs start to seize, I invariably end up getting up (still in the sleeping bag , mind you) and shuffling out on to the porch and flopping down on the mattress I moved out there. It was lovely two days ago when I awoke to the first snowfall of the year, but the rest of the time it is mainly just cold. In the morning, I use a homing device planted in me during my PhD to find my way back to the mothership (this is what my old friends Aaron and Nolan used to affectionately call Jordan Hall, the building where all of our labs were/are; pictured below.) Truth be told, it is awesome to be here and I enjoy things I think I took for granted as a student. Today, for example, there is a conference on the evolution of cooperation and genomic conflict where people from all over the world are hanging out one building over basically talking about the evolution of life as we know it-- this is par for the course at IU, but not really the norm at most other places. Plus, I got to have Mother Bear's for lunch-- a once weekly pilgrimage from our lab to the restaurant seems to have gone by the wayside since my departure, but it will be revived for the next three weeks. Lots of other old traditions (MNF) are still going on or have been revived (poker), but the experiment is quickly closing in on any possible free time. Counting Daphnia til the wee hours was and is another major part of being here, and the nighttime house-keeping crew recognized me last night when they came through to do their rounds as that-girl-who-always-used-to-have-all-those-beakers-around-her.... Traditions, I tell you.

My Old Stomping Grounds

Just a quick post from beautiful southern Indiana... I am back in Bloomington after a couple of years away and it is absolutely lovely. Forget the grey skies, the 30 degree temperatures, the pouring rain-- it feels great to be here. I am going to be at my post in the Daphnia lab (everyone remember Daphnia?) for the next four weeks doing a fitness assay and trying to keep my head above water on things for my upcoming semester back in Portland. I promise vignettes, not updates, later in the weekend.

SoCal

I just got back from a trip that marks a major milestone in anyone's adult life, although it is usually a milestone experienced at 18, or 22, or maybe 27 for most other people: I just got back from my first job interview. I don't want to go into too many details here because, surprisingly, right after I finished my job talk, a member of the audience came up to say hello and that he enjoyed my talk, and then said "So, if you get the job, is the Schaackmobile comin' to LA?" I was kind of caught off guard, and a little bit terrified that my trailer, and my blog, were colliding with my attempts at professionalism. The answer, of course, is yes! But I am just hoping that the faculty don't hold my unconventional living situation against me in their deliberations. Suffice it to say, the interview was really fun and the school was awesome. I will leave it at that for now, and will keep ye devoted reader updated on any news, probably via regular human interaction and not blogpost.

While in LA, however, I didn't just interview. I also seized the opportunity to meet up with an old friend from grade school-- Joe Daniel. I hadn't seen Joe since the day we graduated from eighth grade, in June 1989 (so more than 21 years ago, when he went by Joey). Although we were good friends, we were only friends at school and never once had visited each other's house or met each other's parents, or hung out outside of school. So when school ended, so did our interaction, until earlier this year when we were united by the wonders of Google (remember? before there was Facebook? You could google people?) Anyway, when I found out I had the interview in LA, I gave Joe a call to see if he wanted to get dinner and see some music, and it turns out that, just like back in grade school, he is still a reliable co-music lover (he gave me Appetite for Destruction on tape, probably sometime in the 7th grade, so he knows good stuff when he hears it). We ended up going to a great, small, old venue in Hollywood called the Hotel Cafe and saw a fantastic performance by a band called Ragnar. (I have to say, I took it as an auspicious sign when I saw a poster for Todd Snider's next show in LA as we were leaving the theatre-- it is always nice to see a familiar face when you are nervous about something and it gave me a great sense of calm before heading home to continue prepping for the big day). Ragnar was charming, and they played all kinds of funny instruments like the chalkboard and a children's Playskool xylophone, in addition to accordion and more mainstream instruments like piano and bass guitar. It was excellent, and made me feel like I was making the most of being in LA, even though I was really not there to explore the city. We talked about our impressions of 3-6th grade before it got late, and I am looking forward to continuing the parade of memories next time we get the chance to hang out (you know, things really start to get cookin' when you hit 7th grade and, frankly, after hearing Guns 'n Roses, life got a lot more interesting...) Great to see you Joe!

October's End

I realize Halloween has become a big deal, but the end of October has always been special in our family (even before being a 'sexy tollbooth operator' or 'sexy walrus' became all the rage). In our house, the end of October is special because it is my sister's birthday. This year she celebrated the big 2-9 and came up to Portland for the day so I could share some of it with her which was so fantastic. Here is her look of surprise when I finally got my butt down the mountain, back to the state of Oregon, and into the seat in the restaurant booth, next to her, which is where I belonged. It is framed by the Schaackmobile's attempt at Halloween decor, and flanked by a pretty amazing waterfall on Mt. Hamilton that gives you a bit of an idea how much it is actually starting to rain around these parts. Thank you so much for driving up Gen, bringing your peeps, hanging out, and sharing an awesome meal with me to celebrate the day of your birth! It was a great day (that day, and this day!) I love you!The other event that falls around this time of year is Spiderfest-- an annual open house held by the Binford lab here at Lewis and Clark. What began as an innocent "lab warming" party has now turned into a widely anticipated annual event for students and folks from off campus, especially kids, who can come learn about spiders, see spiders milked for their venom, and eat lots of spider-shaped foods. Here you can see Greta at the scope milking one, and the image that appears on the big screen TV in the lab so the throngs of onlookers can all see. Very fun, and a very good idea to de-scare kids early about an amazing group of organisms. Next year's costume-- sexy spider! I jest.

Change of Time

Today's post title comes from another great Josh Ritter song (you can listen to it here, and actually download it for free, if you would like) and my recent mood... The weather has turned here in Portland and the trees are starting to follow suit. It feels like fall for me for the first time in a couple of years and I love it. The cool weather means I need to bundle up more for my beautiful commute (pictured below-- the first turn into the cemetery with a great view of Mt. Hood in the distance, looking back at the trees and graves as I wind my way down to the river bank, and looking north towards downtown while crossing the Sellwood Bridge over the mighty Willamette to get to the east side....) Almira, my mighty steed, is serving me very well for my daily trek up the hill and for getting around town in general. I pretty much only use my car for far, late night trips or going out of town. Next year's goal, long overdue, is to try and produce only one bag full of garbage. Don't worry future SHoF members! It won't be kept inside. I think if I am just a little bit less lazy, I can recycle and compost my way to this goal. Speaking of the SHoF and next year-- I will be in Indiana for about one month at the end of 2010 and then have another Texas trip in the very beginning of the new year. I will be back in Oregon between Christmas and New Year's and then in Portland for real in mid-January-- hope to host some new inductees then!

Wind Mountain

Portland has been sunny and awesome since I got back a few days ago and it is hard to be inside. Yesterday, I worked from a local restaurant fast-food chain that serves items made with locally grown ingredients (yes, you read that right) and has wi-fi and today I spent the day working from a coffee-house with awesome views in a pretty neighborhood called Ladd's Addition (I really like that name, perhaps a band name? there must already be one I would guess....) Everything was going great until I ate an artichoke and white bean "savory tartlet" for lunch at about 2:30. By about 5 o'clock, I was at home throwing up in the bathroom--and of course that means someone else's bathroom because I don't have one. Sometimes the joys of minimalism mean one has to do disgusting things one would normally only do in the privacy of one's own home in other people's homes. Not really a drawback, now that I think about it....
Anyway, before suffering at the hand of a savory tartlet, which I am sure has happened to everyone at some point or another (either literally, metaphorically, or in my case, culinarily), I was busy basking in the glow of life in Portland. Happiness does not make for interesting blogging, I realize that, but it is just so fantastic to be living in a place where hiking up a mountain can be done with almost no real effort. At 4 pm yesterday afternoon I drove 20 miles up the Columbia River Gorge (which is a National Scenic Area and deserves to be), crossed over the river on the Bridge of the Gods (which is an apt name for a gorgeous crossing), puttered up through some backroads of rural Washington state, parked my car, and started hoofing it up a beautiful unmarked, unpopulated trail, and wallah-- my first NW summit was in the bag. It was a beautiful little walk and the first of many. Here I am at the top with a self-satisfied grin that can only be gotten from climbing uphill, and here is the vista facing east looking up into the gorge. The gorge was formed, in part, by the Missoula floods, a periodic series of gigantic floods caused by the breakage of a massive 2000 ft tall ice dam towards the end of the last ice age. The floods are of significant interest to historians and geologists because of the rapidity with which the gushing water flowed through the valleys and the major geological formations that resulted rather quickly, at least compared to the rate that most geological change occurs. I will post more as I learn about the area, but for now it is just a geological wink--a small summit, on a beautiful afternoon, with a great view.

Back in the Saddle

Where to begin? I spent most of the last two weeks back in Arlington, Texas. It was no walk in the park, but the view out of the window from the plane as I left Portland was a wonderful reminder of what I would be coming home to and the end of the trip. It was actually a two part deal-- the first chapter in Texas and the second in Arizona. Texas was, well... texan. As I have blogged before-- a place of contrasts: the sacred and the profane. I got to see some dear friends, hear some good music, and get some work done, so one can't complain all that much. Let's just say, at the end of Chapter 1, I was eager to make my way west. I was invited to give a talk at Northern Arizona University by two old friends from very different chapters of life that both live in Flagstaff, AZ and who happen to work at the same place (kind of). Tal Pearson was my study buddy at Earlham College (friends since ~1993) and John Gillichi was my kindred spirit during my first few years of grad school at IU (circa 2002, although he really came around to being my friend in 2003). I think they met at a party, figured out they both knew me, and...wallah... a seminar invitation was born. This is how dorks take vacations.
Flag, as it is often referred to, was awesome. I stayed two nights with Gillichi and one night with Tal and his beautiful family. The air was dry, the sun was bright, the aspen turning color, and overall I received the warmest reception a girl could hope for-- both from my friends, their kids, partners, colleagues, and bosses. The science going on at NAU/Tgen/MGen (long story) is both interesting and important (far more relevant than my own research, and a relevance that I definitely crave). It was an extremely fun and stimulating visit and made me remember (again) how lucky I am to have this job, be in this field, and be surrounded by these people. Overall, an excellent trip but, like I said, it's good to be home.

The Best Sad Song Compilation Ever

So, it's a hard moment in the life of Sarah Schaack today. I am trying to keep my chin up, but I really want to hang my head down low. One of my favorite activities, whether I am happy or sad, is to listen to really sad songs, a mix of which my friend Darron gave me a couple of months ago for moments (days, weeks, ...) like this. The Everybodyfields-- a band that made it on the mix, but has since broken up (the couple, and the band) epitomized how I feel when listening to awesomely sad songs with the album art from their last release, Nothing Is Okay.
I feel like it is my duty to share this mix with the world because it is so good. I don't know how to do that legally via this blog, so I am just posting the list. Two of the songs happen to among the selected tracks on one of the artist's webpages (because he's dead; I told you-- this is all sadness, all the time). In that case, I posted the link and since they are arguably two of the best songs on here, you should be happy he is dead so you can hear them. See how sad songs have happiness inextricably woven into them? This, I think, is the key to survival.
The whole mix, however, is so good that I encourage you to track them all down. You can do that in one of two ways: 1) almost any song can be listened to online in its entirety by looking it up on a site called Hypemachine. 2) You can email me, and I would send any interested soul a CD with these 17 songs as my philanthropic contribution to the universe for September 2010. It is my own personal soundtrack, at least for right now.

Your Sweet Voice, Reindeer Section
Goddamn Lonely, Love Drive-By Truckers
Wasted Time, The Everybodyfields
Lost Cause, Beck
Dear Chicago, Ryan Adams
A Good Year For The Roses, Counting Crows
Adelaide, Old 97's
Standing In The Doorway, Bob Dylan
Waco Moon, Todd Snider
Hurricanes & Hand Grenades, Jason Isbel
Write a Letter Home, Jackie Greene
Sauget Wind, Uncle Tupelo
Land Locked Blues, Bright Eyes
Hallelujah, Jeff Buckley
River, Joni Mitchell
Lover, You Should Have Come Over, Jeff Buckley
Life By The Drop, Stevie Ray Vaughn

A Weekend of Gatherings

My sister, Gen Schaack: painter, writer, and photographer

This past weekend was a mixture of wonderful and difficult. The wonderful included attending my sister's first art opening down in Eugene. It was awesome-- she hung a combination of photos and paintings at a great pub called Sam Bonds and a whole gaggle of people came to see and support her and it made my heart swell to be there. More specifically, to be there and have it be easy (logistically, emotionally, familial-ly). This whole living-close-to-each-other business is new territory for our family and I am so happy to find out it is really, really great. I had hoped it would be really great, but it is another thing entirely to have actually be really great. I am so proud of her for putting on the show and putting her creative endeavors out there for public enjoyment. Here she is in front of some of her catalog (above), and then a painting she made of zombie cats eating a severed leg. The bar was abuzz with the question of the evening: who wouldn't want that in their living room?

On Sunday on my way back to Portland, I stopped in a nearby town of McMinnville to honor a man I had never met. Jack Muldoon was my friend Ariel's father and he passed away two weeks ago unexpectedly. Jack, by trade, was a horticulturist and curator of rare plants. He invented a new grafting technique, ran a business selling plants from all over the world to collector's, and was a prominent figure at the Salem farmer's market and in the lives of his family and friends. I had heard about Jack many times because it sounded as if he was the kind of man you could ask about anything. Building a barn? Ask Jack, he knows how. Raising an orphaned gosling? Jack'll know what to do. Picking which apples to plant? Don't decide anything until you talk to Jack first. I am pretty certain Jack worked out cold fusion in his greenhouse back in the 70's, but since no one asked him how to do it, the trick will continue to elude science for decades to come.... Everything I had ever heard about him suggested he was one of the most knowledgeable, selfless, and hardworking men on earth, but at the memorial I found out exactly to what extent. There were numerous people there who had learned their trade or their passion from Jack Muldoon, and just as many others whose houses and gardens are filled with living reminders of his suggestions and expertise in the form of house plants, arbors, orchards, and attached greenhouses. After all his horticulture friends had their say, other people started to speak up about what they had learned from Jack, despite his taciturn demeanor and very quiet (but excellent) humor. Among them, his former brother-in-law stood up and talked about the time he had bought chickens to raise at his house-- broilers that he had built a little coop for but largely had just running around. He had noticed that the chickens weren't really putting on weight quickly and seemed to not be growing very fast. One day when Jack was over at his house, he invited him outside and asked him if he had any idea what might be wrong. Jack watched the chickens for a few minutes, and picked one up and looked at it and said, "Pete, I think you've got gay chickens." Pete said "What? What do you mean gay chickens?" (Not that Pete wouldn't be happy about having gay chickens, he was just confused as to what exactly that meant). It turned out that, as Jack had suspected, Pete had bought Lay Mash from the feed store-- chicken food loaded with hormones to promote egg-laying in hens and NOT for feeding to broilers. This, of course, explained the unexpected growth patterns and behavior (or as Jack put it, the gay chickens). I would be surprised if a card-carrying animal behaviorist would have picked up on the cause and effect pattern as quickly as Jack Muldoon did that afternoon. Just one of many stories told that revealed the beautiful combination of knowledge, experience, and humor that made this man stand out among men.
Ariel, thanks for letting me join the celebration of Jack's life and all of those in it-- it was an honor to be there and learn about your Pop. To both you and Dan, I am so happy to be his friend once-removed and to be your friend the old fashioned way.

Update from Portlandia

For the millions of you out there wondering-- did she keep the bike, the answer is YES! I love it. It loves me, I am pretty sure. We can do anything together. And, happily, I will rarely have to drive in Portland again.... I am pretty much open for business now that I have the lay of the land and a way to traverse it. To mark my unofficial resident status, I had my first visitor this weekend! Making her official debut in the Schaackmobile Hall of Fame is none other than Penny Schaack!!! And like other skeptics before her (Betsy), she went quickly graduated from fear to love with regards to sleeping in the T@b and now can barely imagine trying to return to her former life of sleeping in real beds in real houses. Too bourgeois. Anyway, Penny's visit also included some poking around the Saturday market, some delicious Portland cuisine, and a trip to Lewis and Clark (here she is paying homage to Sacagawea). I promise all this and more to any others who make the long trek! I am enjoying this city immensely so far, but I am a bit lonesome-- so come if you can! Speaking of this great city, Carrie Brownstein (the famous music critic that Chris Moore is in love with) and another guy are making a tv show called Portlandia (like the sculpture of the same name, shown here) that may prove to be very funny about life in this town. The first 6 episodes are supposed to air sometime in early 2011. I find it funny, but the newspapers are full of nervous chatter about how Portlanders will be portrayed (too earth conscious? too non-judgmental?) If it is funny, I will point you towards it in the spring. I'd love to be an extra! I can picture it now-- naive midwesterner trying to come to terms with the social, political, and climatological aesthetic of the northwest while clinging to her love of sunshine and blissful ignorance about genetically modified crops-- she traipses around the city in search of a tasty vegan alternative to the Voodoo Donuts maple bacon bar she has come to know and love so dearly.

Miss Almira Gulch

Today was my maiden voyage with the new bicycle, which I am thinking of naming Miss Almira Gulch if I keep it since I feel just like the Wicked Witch of the West's doppelganger when I cruise around on this thing. Plus, I have lots in common with Almira-- people think I am mean when I am not, I don't particularly like little dogs, and I have a penchant for flying monkeys. Anyway, that's an aside, what you want to know is-- how was the ride??? The answer is-- it was GREAT!!! With typical Schaack optimism, by the time I had ridden through the southeast side of Portland, along the river, and over the bridge, I was thinking-- "I don't think I need an electric bike! This is easy!!!" Then I turned into the cemetery and started the long climb up the mountain. The cemetery is beautiful, quiet, and there are no cars. The road switches back and forth up and up and up, until you are deposited on top of the mountain and right in a neighborhood next to the Lewis and Clark campus. The whole ride took me 48 minutes today, but that was not-really-knowing-where-I-was-going speed. I think it would be easy to shave it down to 40 minutes, and might even be possible to get it down to 30 on the way home because of the downhill. Very exciting!!! So far, I am extremely happy with it!!!! However, I have to admit that I rode it around last night for about an hour right when I first got it, and I can tell you my booty is going to definitely be sore for a while if I stick with this. You would think I would have plenty of natural cushioning, wouldn't you? Alas.

Here is Almira right after she was delivered outside my new digs.

A New Experiment: The Tasman(ian Devil)

So, here I am in Portland-- I have partaken of many of the required inaugural Portland activities. Drink a microbrew, check. Eat organically grown vegetables, check. Get heavily rained on, check. The only thing that is really left is to buy a bike. Everyone in Portland seems to ride a bike. There are bike lanes everywhere, and everyone commutes by bike if they can. Okay, that is a slight exaggeration-- only 6.4% of the populace commutes (that's one out of 16 for all you stats lovers out there), but that is the highest of any major city in the U.S. so you can imagine that it feels like a lot when you are here. So, given that I found a great place to live (pictures of my posh new driveway and delightful property-mate forthcoming), I have been agonizing all week on how to deal with my commute (photo at right by Steve Nehl illustrates the situation here nicely). When I drive, it is 9 miles and takes about 25 minutes. If I were to bike, I get to take a shortcut, cutting it down to about 7 miles, but unavoidably involving a climb up a very steep hill (I'd call it a mountain, but people here call it a hill) for the last 2 miles. Seven miles (plus hill) is not a trivial commute for someone who doesn't have a shower in their Schaackmobile. And so I am performing an experiment: today I plunked down A LOT of cash for an extremely fancy ebike. Ebikes are a new category of commuter bike gaining popularity in places where bikes are heavily relied upon for transit (Europe, China, Portland). It requires pedaling (so stop laughing at me too too hard), but has a motor to assist with the pedaling to allow you to go faster, especially uphill, and arrive sweat-free (or sweat-minimal) after a cross-town commute. The pros: I can use bike lanes and short cuts not available to cars in order to circumvent Portland traffic, which is kind of bad. Plus, I don't have to pay for gas, or to park, or to upgrade my insurance to reflect a switch from non-commuter to commuter. Plus, I get SOME exercise (but not too much). The cons: It is NOT cheap. The battery isn't immortal, so it continues to not be cheap in the future. And I will get rained on. A lot. What do you think? As with all other important decisions in my life (for example, t-shirt color for the tour), I want to know what everyone else thinks. Since everyone doesn't read my blog, that might be hard, but if you are reading, please feel free to weigh in on this agonizing issue. To run the experiment, I bought one and it will be delivered to my house tomorrow. I have 7 days to make up my mind, after which point I can no longer return it to receive a full refund. I will be blogging about the experience and posting pictures! To start, this is the one I bought... The Tasman by Kalkhoff. Das right. I have one word on the matter-- eeeeeekkkkkk.

Epic Journey Diorama

I have been in Portland for a few days now and finally have my wits about me. I made a little collage of pictures from the trip (Jesse made me promise not to use any of him, but he is there in spirit) showing a few highlights (including state border crossings, nights spent at the beach, redwoods, and arriving at my sister's place at long last). The trip started off rocky-- it took Jesse and I about 24 hours to drive the first 100 miles (delays in Arlington, a faulty taillight, traffic, a tire blowout, .... you know, the usual). At one point, it seemed like perhaps the metroplex would hold us in its clutches forever. We ended up fixing everything and getting back on the road in earnest Sunday afternoon, and pretty much hauled (averaging about 50 miles per hour with the slow-going and frequent gas stops) for the next two days to get to the west coast. Once we were through LA (which is vast), we slowed down to enjoy the drive up the coast on Hwy 1. We camped at a beach in Santa Barbara and leisurely rolled into San Francisco to unite with Idelle, who was already there visiting Char and Jun (her sister and brother-in-law), all of whom are remarkable and warm and fun and interesting. That night, my old friend Sonia and her gold fleck-filled heart bearing husband Andrew came across the bay to join us for dinner. It was a fleeting stop, so I wasn't able to see ALL my favorite people in the bay area, but it was a lovely glimpse of what is in store living on the west coast. Jesse flew home from Oakland in order to make it back to Arlington to teach the next day, which was extremely sad and marked the failure of Operation Kidnap Jesse despite early hopes it would work. Idelle did her best to buoy my spirits and revitalize the mission northward. We drove from Berkeley up to Eureka via the Avenue of the Giants which was spectacular-- I highly recommend it if you ever have the chance-- and popped out onto the California coast again in order to make our way to Oregon avoiding the mountain passes of I-5. It was beautiful-- no cell phone camera could do it justice. We enjoyed the coastal drive (ocean on the left, forest and mountains on the right) for another day and a half before cutting east to get to the valley where my mom lives. We rolled into Cottage Grove in the mid-afternoon and hung out with my mom before heading up to Eugene to convene with my sister, Britt, Mike, Lin, Julie, and Lee (lots of people, lots of backstories for each one) to go see a Prairie Home Companion performed live. It was bliss! Beautiful night, delicious picnic, good company, great entertainment, and fun cackling after the show. Unfortunately, I was so tired by the time we got home, I stupidly forgot to bring my purse inside the trailer and, surprise, surprise, it was gone in the morning when I woke up. This didn't stop us from looking for it-- oh no, double-wide optimism has its stubborn streak. But after many hours of searching, unpacking, re-packing, and hair-pulling out, we finally gave up and accepted my idiocy as fact. Not great timing to lose one's ID, money, and credit cards, but it could have been worse.

clockwise from upper left: me in Arlington saying goodbye to the patio that served me so well, from the road leaving texas and entering the land of enchantment, idelle picnicking on the beach in OR, mileage posting in AZ with 100+ degree temps testing the limits of humanity, parked in fron of my sister's house in eugene, the rig in the middle of the redwood forest (yes, we sang the song), and our official trip logo

We left Eugene Sunday morning after a delectable and fun brunch with my sister (mental note: must exercise more to offset all the deliciousness out here) and headed up to Dallas, OR to pop in on the farm. My old friends Dan and Ariel have a homestead up in Dallas (couldn't be much further from Dallas, TX in concept) and they were making jam when we arrived-- perfect timing! We had a nice, quick visit (the first of many, now that I live only an hour away) and then finished off the trek to Portland. I went to one of the two spots I had heard about for places to park, and it was perfect, so I just stayed there. And now that's where I am. Still recovering a bit from the 2-week jaunt, but happy overall to have landed someplace so peaceful. I still am trying to figure out how to get to and from school in a reasonable amount of time, without a car, and I haven't gone to the grocery store yet, but I have the lay of the land (on campus, and throughout the city) and I am looking forward to exploring. The more I know, the better host I will be! It's practically my duty to learn about enjoying this city. Future SHoF members, I will not let you down. More soon.......

Safe and Sound

Writing from my new desk, in my new office, at my new school, in my new town, in my new quadrat of the United States. Strange-y. I have photodocumented the epic journey undertaken by the Schaackmobile and her humble accomplices (me, Jesse, Idelle, and all the nice people we met along the way and one not-so-nice person), but I need to go get a few things fixed on the rig so I can get situated on my new driveway in my new neighborhood. In the mean time, I just wanted to post a sigh of relief that I am here, the trailer is here, the car has not collapsed into a pile of rubble and I am hoping to get everything squared away today so that, as of tomorrow, I will once again be Open for Business. That is to say, back to work and eagerly anticipating visits and visiting my dear pals and family scattered all over, including my most recent dearhearts in Texas, and the all-important task of blogging. More soon....

Helter Swelter

Not much new this week, just getting ready for the big haul next weekend when I start heading West. I am feeling really sad about leaving Arlington for so many reasons, but one of them isn't how hot it is. Today's high: 105 degrees. I am going to a baseball game tonight, and I am fully prepared to soak through my clothes in sweat. It has been so hot here, for so long, some of the guys in the department got a bee in their bonnet about trying to fry an egg out in the parking lot. It is inhumane. Every day new questions are posed-- did anyone live in this area before air conditioning was invented? how hot does it have to get for 98 degrees to seem cool? how hot was it here before global warming? Someone recently asked me if I really thought I could survive a Portland winter living in the trailer. If surviving a Texan summer is any indication, then yes. I am trying to escape the heat while basking in all the other types of warmth I have come to know here in Arlington.

Science Fair:
This is the egg starting to cook about 20 seconds after it was cracked onto a cast iron pan in the parking lot outside my lab.

Post #101: Lake Weekend 2010

Over 100 random thoughts seems like kind of a lot for a fairly delinquent blogger, no? Today's post is about this year's Lake Weekend-- a holiday I now anticipate as much as Christmas, and one that has domino-like beneficial effects for my friends because of the hallowed Lake CD exchange. In addition to the all-important music swap, there was the customary tubing, water skiing, grilling, and shooting the breeze-- an entire summer's worth for me, neatly packed into one long weekend. Unlike previous years, there were (I believe) a record number of attendees, the never-before-attempted-double-handstand-on-the-tubes trick, and a spontaneous sing-a-long that would warm the cockles of even the coldest heart. Imagine, if you will, the whole gang out on the deck getting ready for the annual Lake Weekend Picture (which ends up on the wall in the condo alongside all the others from years past while simultaneously serving as log book for all Darron's past girlfriends, Steve's ex-wives, and Rodenbeck's physical feats of tube mastery). Everyone's out there-- 15 adults and 3 kids, one of whom is bawling his eyes out because, well... maybe because he lost at mini-golf or couldn't get up on one ski or something like that, we may never know. Anyway, Mr. Luesse (Darron's dad and the annual Lake Weekend picture-taker) is teetering on a deck chair trying to snap the shot while Sarah Luesse (Darron's wife and the mother of his child) tries to soothe their baby, Jude, so he does not look positively miserable in this picture that is supposed to capture the bliss of Lake Weekend for perpetuity. It's not working, and finally Mr. Luesse just wants the baby to at least look at the camera and he shouts out "Hey Jude!" To which there is only one reasonable follow-up from the group: Don't make it bad. And so the whole group erupted into a spontaneous, gentle lullaby for the baby, continuing the song (Take a sad song and make it better, remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better), then crescendoing (better, Better, BETTER, BETTER!), and then skipping ahead a little bit to the good part (Naaah, Na, Na, Na-na-Na-Naah, Na-na-Na-Naah, Hey Jude) and finishing off somehow still in near-perfect unison despite the new arrangement of the song with (Jude, Jude, Judey, Judey, Judey, Judey, WAAAHH!) All this-- while still holding the pose for the picture! Needless to say, the baby stopped crying during all of this and was looking up and around at all his (essentially) aunts and uncles. I can only guess what he was thinking, but perhaps it was "Wow, these people must have spent a lot of time at the karaoke bar singing this song because it sounds pretty good!" If so, he was right.

Lake Weekend 2010

The Beatles Version

East Texas Piney Woods

I have been soaking up the good of Texas as much as possible before I head west. Of course, as I do so, time seems to go faster and faster. Last weekend I struck out to the east to hang out at my friend Brian’s parents’ lakehouse over near Sabine National Forest. Public land in Texas, you ask? Well there is a little bit of it here and there, and a fair chunk is sequestered over in the eastern part of the state where a series of dammed rivers form a chain of lakes that act as the boundary between the independent republic and our neighbor Louisiana. East Texas is different than up here and the vast, dry sprawl of West Texas into which I have ventured several times now. East Texas is green-- piney and deciduous. Where we were (to the South), there is quite a bit of Cajun ancestry and culture that has spilled over from even further east. It is hard to imagine living in an area like this given the lack of industry, the small towns, the non-existent cell phone coverage, and the preponderance of Dairy Queens (one per town, regardless of size), but little else in the way of restaurants and businesses. It didn’t really seem like a farming community, although there were many fields of hay. Something is sustaining the folks that live in East Texas, it just wasn’t obvious from looking out the car window what that might be.
Once at the lake house, the task of relaxing was all that laid before us. Brian’s parents were wonderful hosts (and excellent cooks) and the idea was to be as lazy as possible on the porch, on the dock, and in the lake (essentially the antithesis of Darron’s lake weekend—coming right up!) The rocking chairs and ceiling fans on the porch facilitated a great deal of this, as did the array of fishing poles on the dock, and the flocculent-filled, bathwater warm lake at its end. Those of you who know me well know that if there is a lake nearby, I prefer to be in it. And so I was, with occasional nibbles from something sharp amidst the murky waters providing enough of a boost to launch me straight up and out, at least momentarily.

Taking a weekend off from doing felt great. It is a rare thing for me; I remember the last time I relaxed and did nothing for a whole day-- it was in Belize in 1995 while visiting my friend Betsy. We laid on the beach (I had never and have never since been so tan as that day) and ate fish tacos and did nothing for a whole day. It was great, but apparently satiated my desire to completely relax for about 15 years. Now I am rested and ready for Lake Weekend, a trip to south Texas the weekend after that I hope, a westward odyssey, and whatever else is in store....

PS. Some folks have been asking—what is the fate of schaackmobile in Oregon? (the trailer, not the blog) Fear not aspiring hall-of-famers, your days are not numbered. The trailer will remain my primary residence in Oregon until I a) grow up or b) find a non-mobile living situation that is somehow more appealing than my current chelonian (house-on-your-back) lifestyle. Seems unlikely... once you have given up furniture and other domestic trappings (like vacuuming and household chores), it is hard to imagine ever going back. And the moving! Other than the fairly daunting idea of trying to schlep my house with my little car over the Siskyous, there is no easier moving than this. Leave everything right where it is in the house, and just move the house. None of that pesky packing or unpacking. As always, mi casa su casa.

Aquasafari

Trying to get back into the groove after a few weeks of very fun traveling. About 36 hours after I returned from Oregon, I hopped into the car with Jesse Meik and Christian Cox (both of whom have graced the cyber pages of this blog previously) to head to Mexico. Mexico? you ask. Didn't you just go to Mexico in March? Yes, I did. But there is never too much time spent in Mexico, and that is especially true when it comes to fish tacos and finding rattlesnakes. So we went back to Baja with both goals in mind, and returned victorious on one count. Boy were those fish tacos tasty! In contrast to our March expedition, this trip lacked both near-death experiences and the plethora of snakes we encountered last time. The former was a welcome change of pace, but the latter was somewhat puzzling. It was an unseasonably cold year for Baja, which made it quite comfortable for snake searching, but perhaps more difficult for snake finding. On our way out to the island, however, we had the good luck of stumbling upon a small pod of sperm whales. Yes, sperm whales! Just like the ones in the cartoons of your mind. It was very cool to see them unexpectedly, so when our snake hunting came up empty, Jesse suggested we ask Jose (the man with the boat) to take us into the shallow part of the Bay of LA where there are whale sharks. They are extremely impressive fish-- they are very shark-like in the back, very whale-like in the front, and very huge (weighing 20 tons on average, apparently the largest ever measured was ~40 ft. in length; the three we saw were about half that size). Here is a picture I took of one whale shark which totally does not do it justice, but gives you an idea of how cool it was to peer over the side of the boat and see something like this...In the end, we ended up experiencing quite the aquatic safari and got to spend some time exploring the sand dunes (pictured below) and the mountainous central part of the peninsula (pictured above). All in all-- 7 days, 4000 miles, many habitats, delicious food, and lots of cool new species for me to see and learn about. Perhaps most extraordinarily, for most people this kind of trip is vacation, but for biologists it counts as work! Yet another reason to love this job....

The Oregon Trailer

The double entendres in this blogpost title are too numerous to go through so I will leave it to you my astute reader(s?) to deduce and create. I just got back from a fantastic trip to Oregon for my sister's wedding. Yes! A wedding in the Schaack family. It has been 38 years since the last one, so we were ready for a party, and my sister knows how to throw a party! It was a joyous event at a beautiful park on top of a small mountain in Eugene with lots of friends and family and flowers and cake and music and toasts. Everyone was thrilled to be there, including Gen and Jerm and a gaggle of their favorite people who came to celebrate. Gen walked down the aisle with her loyal canine escort, Earl to the sound of In Your Eyes blasting from a radio being held over Jeremy's head. It was great, and the party, like Gen and Jerm's lives, was a great big mash up of family and friends. I was honored and excited to be there and my sister looked beautiful, as usual, but fancier.
After the wedding, a subset of the family went out to the coast to explore. We stayed in a yurt at a state park and had a ball "roughing it" in the most luxurious camping accomodations I have ever experienced. The next few days were spent mixing up visits with my family and friends in the area with some work, before heading up to Portland, my future home, for the Evolution meetings. I was not expecting much from the meeting and was trying not to expect too much from Portland, but my expectations were definitely exceeded on both counts. The meeting was fantastic and the city is so great I already feel guilty for living in such a great place and I am not even there yet. I can't do it justice, but imagine a city with terrific public transportation, beautiful topography, and delicious restaurants. Now, add the fact the the train is free in the inner city, the mountains and valleys are overrun with trees, roses, snow-caps and beautiful rivers, and the restaurants are all individually-owned and full of food made from local ingredients. These are examples of the ways in which Portland exceeded my expectations, but there are more. The only way I will be able to relieve my guilt is if everyone comes to visit so they can share in how great it is. In fact, if everyone could just move there with me, that would be great. You will not regret it! Come. Now. Or in September. Whenever works for you.

Totally Superfluous Blogpost

In today's issue in Nature, there was a funny (not really ha ha) piece on crop circles. You know, the uber-relevant to science issue of why people feel the need to make art in corn fields under the guise of alien messages. I have no idea how the author got them to publish this article (he is from Oregon, by the way), but I guess science news was kind of light and they just decided to go with some quirky, human interest story this week. Then again, it is one of two articles in this week's issue that I actually read, so I am not sure that I have much of a case against it being of interest to "scientists".... Anyway, the photo was great, and worth posting I thought. If you google image search the term crop circle, there are tons of others just as impressive, including this quilt-like photo montage, surely for the discerning dorm room interior decorator (below the jellyfish).

Memorial Day 2010 in Boston, Massachusetts

Recently back from a joyous weekend in Boston, MA-- a town for which I have long had an extreme fondness, but which I hadn't had the chance to visit in over a decade. Where does the time go, I ask? Not much had changed since my last visit, I am happy to report. It was beautiful weather in general, and all the wonderful things you expect from a city on the water-- breakdancers in front of Faneuil Hall, seafood within 10 yards of where it was caught, a zombie march through the Commons, little white sailboats on the Charles, etc. etc. etc. A very picturesque backdrop to an incredibly fun visit with lots of different old friends.
For the first time in my life, however, Memorial Day weekend wasn't just frolicking and barbecues. While hoofing it around the city, I inadvertently visited several monuments to victims of war and I remembered them. While walking the Freedom Trail in the North End, I saw a garden memorial to soldiers who have died in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, the latter having reached over 1000 just recently, after 10 years of war and no end in sight.
Later that day, I walked through the New England Holocaust Memorial. A visually and emotionally striking testament to the 6 million people (jews and non-jews) killed during the Nazi regime in Europe. The glass columns have 6 million numbers etched in them, as well as quotes (like this one I have posted) and facts about the war.
Later in the weekend, I found myself back on the Freedom Trail again. Because Boston is so old, there are historical graveyards around town where many famous historical figures are buried. The Granary, for example, contains the remains of Paul Revere, signers of the Declaration of Independence, and victims of the Boston Massacre, which led to the Revolutionary War.
On Monday, I was walking through the city and again I saw a tribute to Americans who have died in our current wars-- a lawn of american flags in the Boston Commons commemorating each person's passing.
Although the Revolutionary War and World War II seem so clear cut in retrospect (independence, good versus evil), seeing the flags and trying to balance feelings of sadness with larger feelings of frustration made me wonder if, at the time, people may have felt then like I do now about war. Isn't there a better way to solve the problem than having a war? I know it sounds really stupid, but war doesn't just seem barbaric, it seems stupid. Why would anyone think killing someone (no less lots of people) would solve a problem, rather than just create more problems? Granted, I am glad we are free of the tyranny of British rule and lord knows I do not support taxation without representation. Similarly, I can't argue against the statement that Hitler's rise to power was horrible and needed to be stopped. But 6 million people didn't die in WWII. 60 million people died. It is tempting to think there might have been a better way to put an end to the Nazi regime than adding more death. Part of all this reflection stems from my recent decision to become a Civil War buff. I am reading James McPherson's Battle Cry of Freedom right now (which is amazingly well written by the way, I highly recommend it) because I decided that this may well have been the most tragic war I have ever heard of-- literally brother against brother. For some reason, I think I still believe understanding problems is the key to solving them, and my first act towards non-passive pacificism was to get this book. More on this later....

For all you marionette-lovers out there

For fellow lovers of Being John Malkovich, Team America, and other such inventive endeavors that involve marionettes (not just puppets, but the ones with strings attached and their oh-so-subtle movements)-- I have a treat for you. Josh Ritter, a singer song writer that I have liked for a long time and have probably blogged about before, just released a new album and one of the songs is about a mummy who awakes in his sarcophagus only to fall in love with the archaeologist who found him. It is a lovely song, and the video is way more fun than most videos these days. If you want to check it out, they are streaming it at npr.org. Josh is also on tour in the US in June (and coming to Dallas, so there will be a concert review forthcoming!) If you haven't seen him, he puts on a fantastic show and you should. Here I am with he and my friend Katy at the last show I saw him play, some time in 2008. Very warm to all us fans after the show, in addition to a great performance.

More blog spawn

I feel like I mentioned this already, but rather than read my own blog and find out (sounds even more self-centered than writing my own blog), I will risk repeating myself.... my blog has produced another spawn! Is there no end? This one is also music-related, but much to everyone's delight, not music that I am involved in making (I can almost hear the collective sigh of relief over the interweb). Coach Moore and I have teamed up to bring you a weekly dose of new music over at Pancho and Lefty's New Music Monday site.
For a while, we have had a weekly phone appointment on Mondays to exchange tips about new bands that we come across-- kind of like insider trading for people who like music. We definitely ripped the name off from a brilliant feature on an average radio station back in Indiana (92.3, WTTS), but if imitation is the greatest form of flattery, then they should be thanking us if they ever find out. The blog was born when Chris came to visit and we realized that we should share these tips with the world (and that we would forget the name of last week's band if we didn't write it down somewhere). I am pretty sure only one person other than Chris (Lefty) and I (Pancho) have read it, and it is fine if that is the way things stay, but if you are interested in something new to listen to, I encourage you to check it out. We put a link where you can stream the band of interest, a short description of the music, and a picture. There is a lot of really good stuff up there already (and we are pretty quick to point out when it isn't that great too), and there should be lots more to come.... hope you enjoy!

Pictured (from left to right): portraits of Pancho and Lefty in pumpkin with candle

Life's Little (and Big) Pleasures

Just a cool picture to get the juices flowing because I am out of blogging shape.... This photo (posted by kibuyu) recently won 1st place in a photo contest entitled "Translucent" -- pretty cool, eh?

Ok, that was easy enough-- juices flowing! We have a new addition to the SHoF dear friends-- Britt Koskella made her illustrious debut this past weekend while stopping by UTA to give a fantastic seminar on her research (on red queen dynamics in both snails and horse chestnuts) and visiting with her family (who, somehow, thrive in the metroplex! I can't figure out how they do it-- but they are creative, environmentally conscientious, fun, kind people and they happily call Dallas their home! I need to learn more from them....) It was a great weekend, though too fast and too short as always. Speaking of short, time is limited for future inductees who may be out there, hoping to earn a spot in the Texas edition of the SHoF. I recently got an offer to do a post-doc in Portland, OR and will be moving there at the end of August. This, of course, has some wonderful benefits, not the least of which will be the chance to be closer to my family who live out in them thar hills. The other plus is that hopefully I will no longer have to coax people to come visit by inducting them into a illusory cyber hall of fame based on spending the night in a trailer (though that really seemed to work wonders!) If you haven't been to Oregon, you have to come. It is beautiful, and very west coastly but without the hype of California or quite as much rain as Washington. There are mountains, rivers, vineyards, deserts, coastline, forests-- all for the meandering. The state slogan was recently changed to "We Love Dreamers"-- so who wouldn't want to go there? Of course it isn't all just a bed of roses, as I have become quite attached to folks here in Arlington as well. This weekend, my bosses threw a great party as they often do, and it really made me realize how lucky I have been to have this job, in this place, at this time, despite all my pooh-poohing of Texas and its strange laws and customs (did I mention that I got pulled over at a police checkpoint last week? welcome to the independent republic indeed!) In addition to my happiness at work, which really couldn't be greater, I have been welcomed into the hearts of two gentlemen (one big, one small) who make life in the Lonestar state not lonesome at all. The big one played a rockin' show this weekend at my favorite local dive bar (called Caves, and it does pretty much feel like one) with one of his bands, The Future Unlived (to listen to my favorite of their songs, Wage War, click here). The small one entertained us all the way home from a barbecue last night by singing songs he made up on the spot-- music must run in the family. Being serenaded like this? maybe I don't have to consult with Britt's folks about how to make life sweet in the metroplex afterall....

When You Can't Send a Card, Write a Limerick

A More Than Just Mother's Day Limerick

Of the many on whom we depend,
Wounded hearts and scraped knees to help mend,
In our darkest of hours,
They gather their powers,
And become not just our moms, but our friends.

Happy Mother's Day Mom!!!

A New Addition to the SHoF Can Uncover Hidden Gems

A quick post from the brink-- I am back in Arlington after the conference in Canada that made me question my whole scientific self. As you know, I study transposable elements, and the meeting was about transposable elements. So, you can imagine, when I was at the meeting and not understanding very much, it called things into question for me. But now I am back in my cluttered office where I have more of handle on how things work and why, and I am trying to get back to the grindstone. The intervening weekend, however, was spent hosting my friend Matt Carrigan from Gainesville, FL, the most recent inductee into the SHoF. Matt and I were in grad school at the same time, way back in the late 90's at the University of Florida. He was in neuroscience, but moonlighted in the biology department when seminars or journal clubs caught his fancy. A few years later, when we crossed paths at the Evolution meetings in CA, he remembered me as the loudmouth biology girl in said classes, but since he didn't know anyone else at the meetings, he figured I was as good a person as any to befriend. I remembered Matt too-- punk-rock haired, ambulance-driving, free-lancing academic rogue who worked on scientific questions that seemed almost like fiction (what were the first molecules that constituted life?) Luckily, his astrobiology conference hosted by NASA (no, I am not making that up) was in Houston this year, so he was able to pop up to Arlington for the weekend so we could recover from our overly technical existences, together. In the process of showing him around, I found out (again) that Arlington isn't as bad as I necessarily think-- especially when we went to a new music venue in the Bishop Arts District of South Dallas on Saturday night to see music (among others, Jacob Metcalfe and his musical troubadours, pictured above on the right) and then on Sunday when we went to play at Dinosour Valley State Park. Nestled just past the Creation Science Museum and the Dinosaur Theme Park, the DVSP is actually a gorgeous piece of public land with a beautiful river, rocky cliffs, and unbelievably awesome, clear dinosaur footprints in the water. Apparently, these kinds of sites are not uncommon in the US, but I had never been to one, and found it to be incredibly cool. I can't wait to go back, perhaps with the next inductee? We shall see....