Going back to KBS and seeing the myriad student pictures and posters lining the hallway-- mostly people who have come through for summer jobs or programs, or perhaps a few years of graduate study-- made me realize that few, if any, of the people that come through this place have very large of an effect on it. In contrast, the impact KBS had on me, even as an inanimate entity that simply brings all those transients together, was profound. I had dinner with Idelle, Gary Mittelbach (the head of the lab where I worked 14 years ago), and Kay Gross (another professor, and now the director of the station). It was so fun to talk about the old days and some of the more prominent characters in the colorful, panoramic history of KBS. While visiting, I also got to go to seminar (given by Idelle on upcoming projects), hear about recent experiments going on in the ponds, and attend a lab meeting where they discussed a paper on the evolution of plant traits that optimize hummingbird pollination efficiency. In a way, it was like a little visit to my old life and, as much as I enjoyed it, it was also a pleasant confirmation that I enjoy the very different things that I work on now too. As always, it was fun to make Gary Mittelbach laugh-- a favorite pastime of mine in the lab in the summer of 1996. Idelle lives in the old gatekeeper's house which is beautiful (bottom left; the grounds of KBS used to be the summer estate of the Kellogg family), and visiting KBS for the first time in the winter provided the opportunity to see the beauty of this place in a new way-- on skis and covered in snow. It was such a cool combination of flashback and new experience, and provided a surprisingly harmonious feeling as I embark on my so-called career, now more in earnest. I doubt I will have many other chances to revisit intense and intensely fun past chapters of my life in this way, but I enjoyed doing so this time and highly recommend it if you have a similar opportunity. Thank you for such a lovely visit Idelle!
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Flashback to 1996: The Land of Milk and Honey
Although my career as a biologist officially started about one year ago when I finished school and began my post-doc here in Texas, there was a brief period after college when I worked as a research assistant at several places all over the world while I decided what I wanted to do in graduate school. The first of these intense, and intensely fun, jobs was at Kellogg Biological Station in Hickory Corners, Michigan (bottom center). Last week, I had the unique opportunity to go back to this very special place because my dear friend Idelle (bottom right) is now a post-doc at KBS. When I was there, I used to refer to it as the land of milk and honey because I loved it so. My job consisted of fishing in lakes, snorkeling around the experimental ponds, and counting Daphnia in petri dishes in the lab. I had spent my childhood summers in Michigan as well, a few hours away on the beach on the great lake, and this first-job-after-college was about as close to that summertime bliss as one could find, while still earning a paycheck. Summer days are long in Michigan, and very romantic-- fireflies, local dairy-produced ice cream, and lots of time in lakes, which I love the most.
Going back to KBS and seeing the myriad student pictures and posters lining the hallway-- mostly people who have come through for summer jobs or programs, or perhaps a few years of graduate study-- made me realize that few, if any, of the people that come through this place have very large of an effect on it. In contrast, the impact KBS had on me, even as an inanimate entity that simply brings all those transients together, was profound. I had dinner with Idelle, Gary Mittelbach (the head of the lab where I worked 14 years ago), and Kay Gross (another professor, and now the director of the station). It was so fun to talk about the old days and some of the more prominent characters in the colorful, panoramic history of KBS. While visiting, I also got to go to seminar (given by Idelle on upcoming projects), hear about recent experiments going on in the ponds, and attend a lab meeting where they discussed a paper on the evolution of plant traits that optimize hummingbird pollination efficiency. In a way, it was like a little visit to my old life and, as much as I enjoyed it, it was also a pleasant confirmation that I enjoy the very different things that I work on now too. As always, it was fun to make Gary Mittelbach laugh-- a favorite pastime of mine in the lab in the summer of 1996. Idelle lives in the old gatekeeper's house which is beautiful (bottom left; the grounds of KBS used to be the summer estate of the Kellogg family), and visiting KBS for the first time in the winter provided the opportunity to see the beauty of this place in a new way-- on skis and covered in snow. It was such a cool combination of flashback and new experience, and provided a surprisingly harmonious feeling as I embark on my so-called career, now more in earnest. I doubt I will have many other chances to revisit intense and intensely fun past chapters of my life in this way, but I enjoyed doing so this time and highly recommend it if you have a similar opportunity. Thank you for such a lovely visit Idelle!
Going back to KBS and seeing the myriad student pictures and posters lining the hallway-- mostly people who have come through for summer jobs or programs, or perhaps a few years of graduate study-- made me realize that few, if any, of the people that come through this place have very large of an effect on it. In contrast, the impact KBS had on me, even as an inanimate entity that simply brings all those transients together, was profound. I had dinner with Idelle, Gary Mittelbach (the head of the lab where I worked 14 years ago), and Kay Gross (another professor, and now the director of the station). It was so fun to talk about the old days and some of the more prominent characters in the colorful, panoramic history of KBS. While visiting, I also got to go to seminar (given by Idelle on upcoming projects), hear about recent experiments going on in the ponds, and attend a lab meeting where they discussed a paper on the evolution of plant traits that optimize hummingbird pollination efficiency. In a way, it was like a little visit to my old life and, as much as I enjoyed it, it was also a pleasant confirmation that I enjoy the very different things that I work on now too. As always, it was fun to make Gary Mittelbach laugh-- a favorite pastime of mine in the lab in the summer of 1996. Idelle lives in the old gatekeeper's house which is beautiful (bottom left; the grounds of KBS used to be the summer estate of the Kellogg family), and visiting KBS for the first time in the winter provided the opportunity to see the beauty of this place in a new way-- on skis and covered in snow. It was such a cool combination of flashback and new experience, and provided a surprisingly harmonious feeling as I embark on my so-called career, now more in earnest. I doubt I will have many other chances to revisit intense and intensely fun past chapters of my life in this way, but I enjoyed doing so this time and highly recommend it if you have a similar opportunity. Thank you for such a lovely visit Idelle!
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Giving Credit Where Credit is Due
Lots to share this week-- first of all, like most of the country, it is SNOWING here! Unlike most of the country, I am thrilled about it! Arlington can be a beautiful, heavenly oasis-- but only 
when encased in snow, which is extremely rare. If I had an office window, I'd think I was on top of the world today. As it is, I am thinking of sending out a department-wide email to propose a lunchtime snowball fight in the parking lot. You know-- grad students, professors, administrators, staff-- there is probably a lot of pent up frustration between these factions that could be worked out with a few well-place pelts with mounds of snow. It's a cure-all!
In other news, tomorrow is my friend Britt's birthday (I am celebrating with her in spirit in Las Vegas this weekend where we are undoubtedly, in spirit, going to do all kinds of things that will "stay in Vegas", also in spirit). Britt is the best friend and best colleague one could ever hope to have--
here we are united in recreation and science in front of an aptly-named shop in Chicago last summer. Happy Bday B!!!!
Only slightly more famously, Feb. 12th is also Charles Darwin's birthday. This was an especially big deal last year, even among non-biologists, because it was Darwin's 200th bday (if he were still alive, which you'd think a bunch of biologists would agree is a silly concept) and the 150th anniversary of his most famous book, On the Origin of Species (conveniently published when he was exactly 50 years old, so two centuries later biologists and museum curators could go especially crazy celebrating their even-numbered anniversaries.) Now, don't get me wrong-- I love Charlie Darwin (check out the Low Anthem's song about him that I have posted in the upper right hand corner, in fact). And if you want to read about his amazing insights, there are plenty of other blogs where you can do that I am sure. He somehow managed to casually "notice" every major tenet of biology that has emerged in the last 200 years, long before it became clear to most biologists, simply by walking around his gardens, collecting beetles, raising pigeons, and blogging (I mean, writing in his journal). He is most famous for elucidating how changes in species occur over time:
HOWEVER, this principle was also "noticed" by another biologist, halfway around the world at the time-- Alfred Russel Wallace. I recently saw a great talk by Oscar Flores on Wallace outlining how his background (poor vs. rich) and adventures abroad (long vs. short) differed so dramatically from Darwin's, but how they both managed to converge on the concept of natural selection independently. In fact, Wallace had written a letter to Darwin describing his ideas which arrived just days before the final draft of On the Origin was disseminated (with lots of apparent last minute additions to the text which may have been the result of reading this letter.) The timelines of their independent development of the idea are radically different, fascinating, and too lengthy for me to describe in detail here, but what is certain is that the fruition of their ideas was simultaneous (at best, for Darwin), and the subsequent aftermath was just as dissimilar as the lead up, perhaps because of the rich vs. poor difference mentioned earlier. As you know, Charles Darwin is famous worldwide as the grandfather of evolutionary theory, while A. R. Wallace is a relative unknown outside the field of biology.
What was most moving to me about the talk was Oscar's final slide, with this quote from a letter Darwin wrote to Wallace shortly before he died:
Wallace's birthday was Jan 8th-- he would have turned 187 if he were still alive. My goal is to elevate public knowledge of Wallace's contribution to biological understanding sufficiently by 2023 so that we can at least have another excuse for a bunch of geeky biology parties.
Even Darwin agrees with me, as he wrote about Wallace's 1864 paper:
when encased in snow, which is extremely rare. If I had an office window, I'd think I was on top of the world today. As it is, I am thinking of sending out a department-wide email to propose a lunchtime snowball fight in the parking lot. You know-- grad students, professors, administrators, staff-- there is probably a lot of pent up frustration between these factions that could be worked out with a few well-place pelts with mounds of snow. It's a cure-all!In other news, tomorrow is my friend Britt's birthday (I am celebrating with her in spirit in Las Vegas this weekend where we are undoubtedly, in spirit, going to do all kinds of things that will "stay in Vegas", also in spirit). Britt is the best friend and best colleague one could ever hope to have--
here we are united in recreation and science in front of an aptly-named shop in Chicago last summer. Happy Bday B!!!!Only slightly more famously, Feb. 12th is also Charles Darwin's birthday. This was an especially big deal last year, even among non-biologists, because it was Darwin's 200th bday (if he were still alive, which you'd think a bunch of biologists would agree is a silly concept) and the 150th anniversary of his most famous book, On the Origin of Species (conveniently published when he was exactly 50 years old, so two centuries later biologists and museum curators could go especially crazy celebrating their even-numbered anniversaries.) Now, don't get me wrong-- I love Charlie Darwin (check out the Low Anthem's song about him that I have posted in the upper right hand corner, in fact). And if you want to read about his amazing insights, there are plenty of other blogs where you can do that I am sure. He somehow managed to casually "notice" every major tenet of biology that has emerged in the last 200 years, long before it became clear to most biologists, simply by walking around his gardens, collecting beetles, raising pigeons, and blogging (I mean, writing in his journal). He is most famous for elucidating how changes in species occur over time:
"It may be said that natural selection is daily and hourly scrutinizing, throughout the world, every variation, even the slightest; rejecting that which is bad, preserving and adding up all that is good; silently and insensibly working, wherever and whenever opportunity offers, at the improvement of each organic being in relation to its organic and inorganic conditions of life."
—On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection, 1859
—On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection, 1859
HOWEVER, this principle was also "noticed" by another biologist, halfway around the world at the time-- Alfred Russel Wallace. I recently saw a great talk by Oscar Flores on Wallace outlining how his background (poor vs. rich) and adventures abroad (long vs. short) differed so dramatically from Darwin's, but how they both managed to converge on the concept of natural selection independently. In fact, Wallace had written a letter to Darwin describing his ideas which arrived just days before the final draft of On the Origin was disseminated (with lots of apparent last minute additions to the text which may have been the result of reading this letter.) The timelines of their independent development of the idea are radically different, fascinating, and too lengthy for me to describe in detail here, but what is certain is that the fruition of their ideas was simultaneous (at best, for Darwin), and the subsequent aftermath was just as dissimilar as the lead up, perhaps because of the rich vs. poor difference mentioned earlier. As you know, Charles Darwin is famous worldwide as the grandfather of evolutionary theory, while A. R. Wallace is a relative unknown outside the field of biology.
What was most moving to me about the talk was Oscar's final slide, with this quote from a letter Darwin wrote to Wallace shortly before he died:"I hope it is a satisfaction to reflect - and very few things in my life have been more satisfactory to me - that we have never felt any jealousy towards each other, though in some sense rivals. I believe I can say this of myself with truth, and I am absolutely sure that it is true of you".
Wallace's birthday was Jan 8th-- he would have turned 187 if he were still alive. My goal is to elevate public knowledge of Wallace's contribution to biological understanding sufficiently by 2023 so that we can at least have another excuse for a bunch of geeky biology parties.
Even Darwin agrees with me, as he wrote about Wallace's 1864 paper:
"It is really admirable, but you ought not... to speak of the theory as mine; it is just as much yours as mine".
All that said, I *do* love this poster:
All that said, I *do* love this poster:
Friday, February 5, 2010
Miami Valley Pottery
I have been meaning to blog about this for some time-- my dear friend Naysan is a potter in Yellow Springs, OH. If you have never been there, you should go because YS is the coolest town in the state-- a little tree-huggin', peace-lovin' (etc. etc. for all you Todd fans) hippie town that loves the arts and people from all walks of life, nestled in the most unlikely swathe of the midwest-- just north of the bible belt to be exact. It has a beautiful small downtown and lots of trees and is home to the very-cool-but-now-defunct college, Antioch, which was legendary in its day for free thought, protest, and alternatives to everything. Naysan McIlhargey is half Persian and half Irish-- a beautiful genotypic and phenotypic combination that is as welcoming and exotic as it sounds. He has been an artist since before we met in college and, in fact, we took Introduction to Ceramics together in the spring of 1994. It was a 2-hour class that started at 8 am. I usually rolled in with tousled hair around 9, and Naysan would be at the wheel, gesturing with his clay-covered hands towards whatever he had brought me for breakfast from the cafeteria because, not only could I not be bothered to come to class on time, I had missed breakfast. If that's not love and loyalty as a friend, you tell me what is. I would love to brag that I saw Naysan's talent long before everyone else, but that isn't true. Everyone saw it, and we all saw it right away. 
Now, he has his own studio, kiln, and shop called Miami Valley Pottery in Yellow Springs (the town from whence he came) and he is sharing his uncanny ability to combine earth, aesthetic, and necessity into beautiful pieces of ceramic with the world. If you are near there, you should go say hi and tell him Schaack sent you. He will give you an enormous hug and show you his incredible endeavors-- which include the ability to make 100 pots in a single day if he so chooses. He might also introduce you to his lovely wife Jalana and their daughter Bli who recently joined in the fun from her home country in Madasgascar. I can't say enough about how beautiful Naysan, his family, and his art are, but I encourage you to check it out if you're ever tooling around those parts-- it will be memorable and delightful, I promise.
Now, he has his own studio, kiln, and shop called Miami Valley Pottery in Yellow Springs (the town from whence he came) and he is sharing his uncanny ability to combine earth, aesthetic, and necessity into beautiful pieces of ceramic with the world. If you are near there, you should go say hi and tell him Schaack sent you. He will give you an enormous hug and show you his incredible endeavors-- which include the ability to make 100 pots in a single day if he so chooses. He might also introduce you to his lovely wife Jalana and their daughter Bli who recently joined in the fun from her home country in Madasgascar. I can't say enough about how beautiful Naysan, his family, and his art are, but I encourage you to check it out if you're ever tooling around those parts-- it will be memorable and delightful, I promise.
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