Sedentary Man

Delta Flight 79 from Berlin

2010-03-16T16:57:00.001-04:00

“ 'I don’t know who’s in charge of the screens,' my friend in the information booth advised me.' "

The Sedentary Man’s blood pressure went up this weekend. But it wasn’t due to unhealthy living.

JFK Airport in the Queens borough of New York City is one of the most heavily traveled air terminals in the hemisphere. Some 31,000 people per day travel through this facility on their way to hundreds of destinations. It is a gateway to the United States for travelers arriving from Europe and points east: a crown jewel of our nation’s transportation system. In theory. In practice, it is a seething hive of decay, corruption, and incompetence. SM had the displeasure of spending eight hours there this weekend, and hopes not to repeat it anytime soon.

I needed to make my way to JFK to pick up some family members returning from an overseas trip. To do so, I needed to drive to Delta terminal 3, where international arrivals arrive. I had to walk about a half mile from the parking area to the terminal, whereupon I had no idea where to go to meet my passengers. Signage was poor/nonexistent. Surly guard types directed me “outside, and to the left” which was a filthy sidewalk that disappeared underneath building alongside what appeared to be a service vehicle road. Passing plywood boarded passageways, abandoned cars, temporary chain link fencing and loose construction materials, I arrived some distance later at an area that had automated opening doors, people milling about and monitors showing arriving and departing flights. There was not much posted information but I inferred that my flight of interest was due to spill out passengers into area C. I needed to infer this because the left hand side of the arrivals information was cut off by the housing of the monitor screen. I as not able to Sherlock Holmes the actual existence of area C, however, because there appeared to be at least two arrival areas in the structure.

As I tried to puzzle this out, the status of my flight’s arrival area changed from C to FIS. I found an information desk and inquired about how to interpret this puzzling information. The less than energetic employee manning the desk told me that there were two arrivals areas and that planeloads of people might show up in one or the other. So I needed to “check back and forth”. This approach would work, I suppose, if the two areas in question were closer than 100 yards apart, but they were not.

One might presume that cell phones would solve any meeting up problems and one would be right, if the area in question had greater than zero bars for cell phones. It did not. One must also consider the effects of the obstacle course created by plastic bins deployed to catch filthy rainwater as it made its way from the sky to the floor of “area C”(pictures).

Whoever managed the information flow on the arrival screens added his own irritating spice to this unsavory infusion when he haphazardly changed arrival status/areas before dropping the flight entirely from the screen. I was able to determine the true flight status (it had been diverted to Boston due to weather) only upon braving the elements outside and making cell phone calls. “I don’t know who’s in charge of the screens,” my friend in the information booth advised me.

Does this all have a point? I’m not sure. How does such a wealthy city in such a wealthy country produce such unacceptable infrastructure? Pick a reason. The headlines selected at random from a Google search on JFK airport crime may offer some clues. Crime and corruption do not appear to be strangers to this section of Queens. And crime and corruption lead to lower attention to the public good. Like my information booth representative pointed out, it’s hard to tell who’s in charge. In a lot of ways. Maybe that’s the point. When accountability is vague problems slip in to the hazy nooks and crannies. Good travels my friends, but try a different airport if you can.

Federal agents have seized a 68-carat diamond they say was stolen at Kennedy Airport and sold for a mere $1 million to a prominent Fifth Ave. jeweler

A sting captured by security cameras nabbed two sticky-fingered airport workers who swiped electronics planted by authorities, officials said

The New York Daily News reports employees at the Kennedy Airport air-traffic control tower are under federal investigation for apparently allowing a school-age kid to give directions to pilots

HOW THE MAFIA LOOTS JFK AIRPORT More than $59 billion of freight and 27 million passengers a year are irresistible pickings for mobsters, who have made it a hotbed of stealing, smuggling, and extortion.

Hand me that shovel, would you?

2010-03-04T12:11:00.001-05:00

"I am unsatisfied with shoveling only three or four times a year. I want a machine for my basement that replicates snow shoveling."

A most unsedentary man set about clearing heavy snowfall from his driveway and walkways this weekend: the after effects of recent record snowfall in the northeastern United States. It’s not something I mind, actually. For starters, I find falling snow beautiful and calming, almost mesmerizing. The dense flakes tend to muffle noise, adding to the overall serenity. I could sit and watch snow falling for hours. Shoveling is not a very stiff price to pay for such a pleasant gift. I could purchase a snow blower, as some of my neighbors have done, but have resisted due infrequent actual need for it (one or two storms a year normally), storage issues, and maintenance headaches.

In addition to all that, I like the exercise that shoveling provides. It’s usually for about an hour at a time, maybe 90 minutes, which is quite manageable. And snow shoveling, of course, works the upper body-- something that no amount of exertion on the recumbent bike is going to give me. I do tend to go only one way with it, with my right hand on the D shaped handle and left arm doing the heavy lifting. Both arms and torso all work together in the actual throwing of the snow. I believe this throwing piece works portions of my fast twitch muscles as well, something my normal exercise routines don’t cover. I get fatigue and some soreness in the lower right portion of my back, from muscles that are working against the lifting of the left arm. This factor is the regulating one for me. I can only work as fast or as long as that set of back muscles will allow me. Which is fine because it allows me quite a lot. The usual pattern for me is to overdo it a bit in the beginning, then with pulse racing and lower right back muscles barking at me, I moderate the pace. After a time I pick it up again and settle into a steady and comfortable level of exertion. I make a point of clearing every square inch of the driveway and walkways, even when less clearing would be sufficient. When the job is complete, I make a lengthy visual inspection of the newly cleared spaces and enjoy a very strong feeling of satisfaction. Afterwards, I find myself sometimes looking for something else to shovel. I even go out for mini shovels later in the day or at night if the mood strikes. I admit this might be a little weird, but I’ve never made a point of telling people about it. Until now, I guess.

I wish a couple of things would happen. One, that snow shoveling take on a cachet as an especially good but overlooked form of exercise. This has happened in the past with mundane chores – running, walking, stair-climbing, rowing, and weight lifting come to mind. All of these activities became institutionalized with workout appliances designed to simulate their exercise benefits. Which brings me to wish number two. I am unsatisfied with shoveling only three or four times a year. I want a machine for my basement that replicates snow shoveling. Perhaps some exercise equipment manufacturer out there will read this and, who knows?

What’s Up Doc?

2010-02-17T08:23:00.000-05:00

"Doctor visits are 3-5 minutes, consumed by examination, diagnosis, some grunts, and a prescription."

SM’s other half got her diagnosis the other day: a torn meniscus. The offending part, a crescent shaped piece of cartilage that rests in the knee joint between the femur and the tibia, was shown by MRI to have suffered a significant tear. Mrs. M said the pain was so fierce as to be nausea-inducing. She is unable to identify the event that produced this unhappy result, but the prognosis appears clear: surgery, according to her bone doctor man. He, being a tadly short on communication skills, makes a poor paring with Mrs. M., who suffers from a bit of white coat paralysis and tends to elicit less than exhaustive details from her various care-givers. We are left with acceptance of the treatment recommended and without many answers to the questions of alternate treatment options, consequences in years to come, required rehabilitation, or risks from the procedure.

Why do I even bring this all up? Many years ago I went to a gastroenterologist about a stomach problem, which turned out to be gastritis, no big deal. The doctor sat with me for about 20 minutes, outlining the various common causes of this ailment and the treatments available at the time. When he was through talking, he asked me if I had any questions. I had one or two, which he answered, and then we chatted briefly about my background. A patient is about as likely to have that kind of exchange today as he is of getting struck by an asteroid. Insurance companies are miserly with their reimbursements, so physicians must compensate. Doctor visits are 3-5 minutes, consumed by examination, diagnosis, some grunts, and a prescription. Clearly, you are not going to come out of that type of encounter with a deep understanding of your malady and its consequences. Today we carry the burden of providing a substantial portion of responsibility for our own healthcare. Damn few doctors are going to delve into ancillary and sundry aspects of your complaint. They can therefore (and do) miss salient facts.

It is incumbent upon all of us to get on the www and find out all we can about whatever ailment we are getting, have or have had. It is important to be aware that the interior portion of the meniscus has no blood supply and cannot therefore be repaired, whereas the exterior portion is vascular and may indeed be treated. It is important to be aware that removal of the meniscus, a surgical option that is sometimes used when a tear is in the bloodless interior region, leaves cartilage on the tips of the femur and tibia rubbing against one another, creating a special vulnerability to arthritis in years to come. It is important to be aware.

Fire, I bid you to burn

2010-02-01T13:06:00.002-05:00

"For hours would I peer into that soulful firebox, mesmerized, an adolescent moth to the flame."

The Sedentary man is settled in by a warm fire, enjoying the protection, mostly psychological protection in these modern times, against the fierce arctic chill that sweeps up just a few feet away from my easy chair. I have been a big fan of fireplace fires ever since childhood when my sister and I would huddle on the hearth, backs to the roaring blaze, until our skin passed through an itching stage to a no mans land between warmth and discomfort. Later, when I had the inferno all to myself, I would turn to experimentation, remaking the fiery crucible into a private experimental furnace. I found that pennies, steel wool, soda cans, and tin foil burned rather than melted. Plastics, food items, and bits of fabric went up in a trice, while magazines smoldered for hours, averting consumption due to the protective clay coating upon which their pages were printed. For hours would I peer into that soulful firebox, mesmerized, an adolescent moth to the flame.

Years later, I stumbled upon some interesting history of this most civilized of mans inventions. Early hominids built fires in the center of their living spaces, relying on convective currents to carry the suffocating smoke up to carefully situated vents in the roof of the structure. Fickle downdrafts and pressure inversions led often to smoky gatherings for the Gronk family, one supposes. The wooden chimney was invented some time thereafter, helping with smoke management, but leading many times to chimney fires followed by homelessness. An enterprising American inventor later designed a “leaning” chimney. This version was still made of wood and therefore subject to sudden immolation, but in times of stress invoked gravity as an ally and fell away from the house before consuming it as well. Masonry chimneys were a welcome improvement and did much to minimize the burning-house side effect.Modern fireplaces employ better firebox and flue design to minimize innate fireplace energy inefficiency and promote safety and the circulation of warmth throughout the house.

I consider myself fortunate to have a fireplace to stoke up when the outside temperature and my mood beckon. The orange glow and crackling symphony of consumption are blessed solace, an enervating balm against the stressful disquiet of my daily existence. Thank you, Gronk.

Soup for You

2010-01-19T13:25:00.002-05:00

SM had a bit of blurred vision and went to see the ophthalmologist recently. The doc wanted a closer view of the SM retina and shot me up with iridescent yellow vegetable dye (what vegetable is iridescent yellow, I wondered briefly) and took some pix of ocular town. The “harmless” vegetable dye left me praying for a quick death. The technician said, “That’ll pass” but shoved a garbage can under my quivering chin nevertheless. The feeling, rather than my lunch, passed. Fortunately. What the doc was after was a closer look at some spots on one of my retinal layers called drusen. These, if small and hard, can be normal in people over 50 and not much to worry about. If they are softer and larger, they can be harbingers of macular degeneration, a form of blindness that blacks out the center of one’s vision and distorts vision around it as well. The diagnosis was that I did not have much to worry about, but I left with a resolve to protect my eyes better and do whatever I could to forestall vision problems down the road.

The doctor recommended several things – good sunglasses, exercise, good eating habits, vitamins and antioxidants. I bought a pair of quality sunglasses, installed antiglare and uv protecting filters on my computer monitors, got some eye care vitamins, and resolved to increase my intake of antioxidants. I’m sure you’ve all heard references to antioxidants, usually as marketing hype for certain food products. Study results vary, but some evidence suggests they really are helpful – foot soldiers in the war against not only macular degeneration, but cancer, and perhaps heart disease as well. The theory is that normal body processes cause oxidation, a chemical reaction that creates free radicals (oxidants). These are molecular particles with an open, “sticky” superstructure, prone to attaching themselves to other innocent bystander molecules. This can disrupt healthy cell function in a variety of locations in the body. You wouldn’t want to just get rid of oxidation, the process plays a key role in cell metabolism. But you also don’t want too many of the by-product free radicals coursing around your system causing trouble. The objective should be to keep oxidants at an optimum level. The tool? Ingestion of antioxidants.

There are a half dozen or so of antioxidant compounds. Although precise application of these is probably a pipe dream, each can be added to the diet, with the hope that the overall level of free radicals is improved. Here are antioxidants and dietary sources for each.

Vitamin A – Carrots, broccoli, tomatoes, peaches, apricots
Vitamin C – Citrus, broccoli, strawberries, tomatoes
Vitamin E – Nuts, seeds, whole grains
Selenium -- Red meat, fish, grains, eggs, garlic
Flavonoids – Soy, red wine, grapes, pomegranate, tea
Lycopene – tomatoes, pink grapefruit, watermelon
Lutein – dark green veggies spinach, broccoli, kale

Given that broccoli kept showing up, I decided to use that as a basis for my own powerful antioxidant recipe. It’s not half bad and I have been using it as one of my meals each day. Here you go:

Antioxidant Soup

This soup is jam packed with antioxidants, tastes great, is filling, and has under 100 calories per serving, even with the bacon garnish.

1 ½ lbs fresh broccoli, cut into golf ball size pieces

1 cup frozen peas (this makes the soup hold together but makes it take on something of a pea soup quality. If you are not a fan of pea soup, use corn instead of peas)

2 quarts chicken stock

1 large onion, diced

2 carrots, diced

3 stalks celery, diced

2 cloves minced garlic

1 potato, peeled and diced

¼ cup red wine

1 tsp salt

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 teaspoon ground thyme

fresh ground pepper

pieces of cooked bacon, dime sized (optional, but very tasty)

Put the olive oil in a Dutch oven or soup pot over medium high heat. Add diced carrots. Cook until edges of carrot pieces get some brown on them. Add celery and onions. Cook until onions are translucent. Add garlic. Cook for a minute or so, then add the chicken stock. Add thyme, wine, diced potato. When mixture comes to a boil add in the broccoli pieces and peas. Cook until broccoli is just past the bright green stage. The broccoli pieces should be fork tender. Pull out the broccoli pieces with a strainer, then put them through a food processor. They should have a consistency similar to apple sauce. Set aside. Let everything else continue to simmer for about 25 minutes, then strain all of the other veggies, including peas and potato, out of the soup pot. Put them through the food processor. This will produce a medium thick paste. Put the remaining chicken stock into a bowl or pitcher with a spout. Put the broccoli and pea/potato mixtures back into the soup pot and mix them together. Gradually add the stock back into the mixture until it reaches the desired thickness for soup. This should take most of the broth. You can try avoiding the whole food processor thing by using an immersion blender. I just find it always seems to leave hunks of unprocessed material floating in the finished product. Add salt and pepper to taste. Serve with a teaspoon or two of the bacon on top as garnish.

Gearheads

2009-12-21T16:56:00.001-05:00

For some reason, a collection of impressions congealed into a group and I thought, “this could be a genre”. Well, of course, it already was. I was looking at a customized (modded) earphone that had brass, wood and gears attached to it. The impression made me think of the unusual communications devices used in the SyFy show WAREHOUSE 13. That made me think of some of the devices featured in the HELLBOY movies. Which in turn made me think of some stuff in the movie THE BREED. Common devices, appliances, and furniture constructed of old-school materials, such as varnished dark wood, brass, copper and cast iron, but to perform functions that only came to be in the age of plastics and alloys, like computer mouses (mice?), laptops, walkmen, time machines.

Steampunk. That’s the name given to it all, the internet says. It started in the 1980’s and has grown from a collection of fascinating objects described in works of science fiction into an entire subculture, including dress and, one presumes, behaviors. An eventual museum, will immortalize it all, I suspect. There are sub sub cultures as well – western punk (think Wild Wild West mechanical spider), and steamgoth (the Goths just won’t die!).

That last pic includes steampunk running shoes, so we’re fine with editor. I try to stay on topics that relate, however torturedly,to fitness or lack of it. Anyway, as I was saying, this movement has picked up steam (I couldn’t resist) in recent years and there appear to be conventions where adherents gather. There is a steampunk style and even steampunk bands (Abney Park). I find the whole thing interesting, but that’s as far as it goes. If you’re into that sort of thing, fine. My policy has been to shun groups that come together for a common interest: That I might enjoy someone’s company simply because we drive the same car always seemed a stretch to me.

There’s a Borg Collective in Your Future!

2009-12-10T16:39:00.000-05:00

SM was reading in Time for Kids, in an article about the “Coolest inventions of 2009”, that scientists had successfully connected a micro computer to the brain of a beetle. This device enabled the scientists to make the bug fly or stop on command. Setting aside the fact that I could accomplish the same outcome with a thumbtack, some string, and a piece of duct tape, what to think about all this? Where are we heading? Logically, the next step would be to make the beetle do more sophisticated things, like fetch a (very small) newspaper, prepare hot cocoa, or trim your toenails. Then on to bigger creatures. Who wouldn’t want a friendly, furry squirrel to change channels for you on the remote; a raccoon to read stories to school children; a chimpanzee conducting weddings at the Las Vegas “Chapel of Love”?

"And what about the ultimate killer app? The human brain interface. Hand Ahmadinejad this technology and watch how quickly those unruly students fall into line!"

But wait a sec. We’re talking about humans here. That means we are just as likely to have parakeets death match fighting with tiny parakeet weapons; calico cats with built in camera eyes for pervert spying; dogs playing cards (why does that seem so familiar?), braying jackasses drafting legislation allowing guns on our trains (oh wait, we already have that). It won’t take long for some pretty ugly applications.

And what about the ultimate killer app? The human brain interface. Hand Ahmadinejad this technology and watch how quickly those unruly students fall into line! You’ll see a lot fewer heretics once the correct religion has been determined and proper programming put in place on the chip sets. There is much money to be saved as well, what with one party, unanimous elections. As long as there have been people, there have been people who want to make other people do what they want them to. Giving people like that this type of power might be ok, if they were always right about everything. Bud I guess, even if they were wrong, who would ever know? Just go with the flow. After all, resistance is futile.

Dreams, in Three Parts

2009-12-01T13:19:00.000-05:00

Throughout my adult life, I have had this dream from time to time. It usually takes place in a school setting – at one of the universities that I attended. In this dream, yours truly is naked as a jaybird, and completely mortified by the circumstance. I prance around, hands covering my private parts, looking for escape. I run into people and don’t know what to say or do. I run down long hallways with no apparent objective. When I wake up, memories of the extreme embarrassment are curiously fascinating. The dreamscape, I realize, inhibits my normal ability to strategize, to deal with the ludicrous situation. I don’t pause to analyze how I came to be naked in so public a place. I can’t seem to figure out that I can borrow some clothes. It’s as though my subconscious wants me to be as embarrassed as possible; taking away any tools that might provide respite – like a scientist holding all variables constant to get a clean, controlled result.

"If someone has no ability to be embarrassed, is that harmful? Perhaps he or she would do more stupid things than otherwise."

But why? Think about embarrassment for a moment. It’s a powerful emotional reaction to circumstances having certain characteristics – something stupid happens that you are responsible for and that is being witnessed by people who matter to you (nobody’s embarrassed by burping loudly in front of a farm animal). So what function does the embarrassment perform? If someone has no ability to be embarrassed, is that harmful? Perhaps he or she would do more stupid things than otherwise. Perhaps some stupid things are life or reproduction threatening, suggesting a Darwinian process. More broadly, embarrassment may be a lubricant that, by promoting a degree of conformity, helps societies run smoothly. I can only assume embarrassment serves some useful purpose, or we wouldn’t all have the capability. So if it does have some benefit-giving role, does the dream machine occasionally decide that it is in need of a recharge? Maybe. Dreams are valuable in all sorts of ways – resolving internal conflicts, giving vacation to the cognitive engines, providing the a-ha moment to the odd inventor or engineer. Why couldn’t they also be helping to keep the embarrassment muscle toned?

My recurring dreams don’t always work this way. I have another one sometimes, although not so much in recent years, about messing up in school. It’s about college again, and typically I have signed up for a class and then never attended it. It’s finals time and I feel helplessly screwed. Now in real life, I would have either 1) gone to the darn class or 2) withdrawn as soon as I had realized that I was going to fail it. But again my subconscious will have none of it. The controlled experiment thing. I always thought of this set of dreams as somehow reactive. Getting through college is stressful at times and dealing with the stress creates a big oil slick on your cognitive ocean. The dream machine is just nodding to this bruise in the sequences because it almost has to: like an author including elements of his own life in a novel.

These dreams, though recurring, are rare or at least my remembering them up on waking is rare. Even more rare are the super cool dreams that are so fascinating that you are supremely disappointed to wake up and dissipate them. I remember hanging out with Billy Joel (when he was cool) in one. And running a sub-four minute mile in another (fitness!). I dated Dolly Parton, platonically, and did hilarious stand up comedy for adoring crowds. I can’t guess what role if any these types of dreams play. I just hope they keep on coming. Now excuse me, I need to throw some clothes on.

The English Speaking Patient

2009-11-10T17:11:00.000-05:00

I asked my doctor if Requip was right for me. He said that I didn’t have restless leg syndrome so that, no, it was not right for me at all. (Was that good news or bad?) I said to him, as long as I was there, could I ask about Cymbalta? I was thinking I should take it.

He said, “Why, are you depressed?”

“Oh, is that what it’s for?”

Furrowed doctoral brow.

“How about Chantix to help me stop smoking? It causes suicidal behavior and blackouts. I worry.”

“Are you having suicidal thoughts?”

“Not when I’m blacked out.”

Looking through his folder. “Are you even taking Chantix? Why would you be taking Chantix? First of all you’ve never smoked. And second I haven’t prescribed this medication for you.

“I’m just saying, if.”

“Part of me is saying, yes you might need that. But the part of me that went to medical school says you do not have schizophrenia.”

Frown. Folder down. “What are you here for today?”

“You’re my doctor, so I’m asking. Look, I don’t consult you when symptoms persist like it says on the boxes. But, I am getting a lot of disturbing advice about prescription products and I felt it was time to check in. Can you say for certain that I don’t need Abilify? I mean right now?”

“Part of me is saying, yes you might need that. But the part of me that went to medical school says you do not have schizophrenia.” Looking at his watch. “You know if you are here to bullshit me for some reason… well I don’t think it’s too funny.

“I may have had an erection lasting four hours.”

“Still not funny”

“You’re my personal god. Some of these ads, I can’t even tell what the problem is – why do you need to take the stuff? Who’s going to sort this out for me? Do I wait until I have some ghastly condition and then ask my doctor if whateveritis is right for me? Isn’t it too late if I’m having blackouts or a sudden decrease in semen?”

“John,” (he calls me John sometimes) “I have over two thousand patients. Some of them are hypochondriacs, some of them have manageable problems and some of them are practically dead, but you’re the only one treating a doctor visit like some little thought experiment. You know goddam well how this works. You notice something wrong and you come in. We do some tests to figure out what it is and them get you some pills. Don’t pay any attention to the TV commercials.” (now pointing at me with two fingers, like a gun) “And don’t waste my time with bullshit.”

“Doctor Chandra, you’re upset and I get that. And I know that our three minutes are almost up. Can we talk about Flomax for a minute? If I’m going three times between morning coffee and lunch, is that too much? Could Flomax be an answer at this point?”

Walks out, closes door. On the back of the door is a poster describing nasty things that happen when your blood is too thick. “Ask your doctor about Plavix” the poster advises. Maybe next time.

Mind over Matter

2009-10-27T14:09:00.000-04:00

SM was watching a TV series last night called “Brick City”. It’s about the city of Newark, NJ and, most especially, about that city’s Mayor, Corey Booker. Newark, for those less familiar, was once the de facto capital city of New Jersey: the hub of commerce, politics, intellectual and social life in the state. It has, though, for decades been a city in serious trouble: rampant crime, chaotic and ineffective schools, compromised public health, broken families and sickeningly pervasive, unbridled corruption infecting its public officials. Some believe that this last item has been the primary cause of the items above it. Most of the Newark mayors of the last half-century have ended their public life in prison or facing the prospect.

"More seriously, this story is dramatic proof of what an individual can accomplish though sheer will, sheer single-mindedness, sheer focused energy. "

Enter Corey Booker, Mayor since 2006 and probably the first true, positive change agent since the 19^th century. Stanford, Rhodes scholar, Yale Law. No dummy. But there are lots of smart people around. What separates Booker is his courage, energy and single-minded devotion to the betterment of his adopted city. Before becoming mayor, he did things like live in tents in the most dangerous parts of city to deter drug traffic. He went on a 10-day hunger strike to protest violence and drug dealing. He became an assassination target of the Bloods street gang: a reward for pledging to improve law enforcement and reduce crime in the city.

After winning election as Mayor, Booker started the really hard work: actually improving the city’s institutions, starting with public safety. Using modern data analysis techniques, Booker’s team has reduced crime rates to 1950’s levels. Strengthening the business base of the city, its housing situation, and its schools are next on the docket. There exists the possibility that Newark, a cesspool of urban problems, could actually pull out of the quicksand it fell hard into last century. And mostly due to the efforts of one man.

How does this all become a Sedentary Man column? First a technicality. Brick City opens with Booker on a fitness run through the streets of Newark at 4am. There: it’s something to do with fitness. More seriously, this story is dramatic proof of what an individual can accomplish though sheer will, sheer single-mindedness, sheer focused energy. Whatever it is you want to do, you can probably do it. Just ask Corey Booker.

S**T, Why am I swearing so much?

2009-10-19T16:58:00.000-04:00

I opened a carefully prepared brown paper bag containing the entirety of my 2009 crop – eight angry green tomatoes. Deer had eaten anything close to ripe during the summer months. I’d placed these last survivors in the bag along with a banana and an apple, and stowed them in the warmest area of my house – near the furnace. I dropped an S bomb upon seeing that the green was still, pretty much, green. S**t is my work-a-day swear word, good for all sorts of dismay. The old stand-by. When the going gets tough though, I turn to the higher yield F-bomb. If you are not sure what your go-to swear word is, try this. Kick your pinky toe fairly hard into the corner of a sleeper sofa, perhaps with the lights off. Whatever word comes out of your mouth is your swear word anchor man.

"He found a robust link and offered this nostrum: 'I would advise people, if they hurt themselves, to swear.'"

I could not live in a world without cussing. Like diet soda and reality shows, it is one of life’s essentials. And people almost have to swear. It’s built into our DNA, a close cousin to the other fight or flight bodily responses. It has even been found to relieve physical pain. Psychologist Richard Stevens of England’s Keele University, undertook a study about swearing and its relationship to pain. He found a robust link and offered this nostrum: "I would advise people, if they hurt themselves, to swear." Not sure what his advice is when other people hurt you, but I suspect a crisply delivered !*/#@%&?$ will work fine there too. But don’t overdo it. Steven Pinker, a Harvard psychologist points out that the therapeutic benefits of swearing diminish with use. Like anything else, if you go to the well too often it can run dry.

I find that my compound swear words evolve over time. This is mostly the hardball, hammer smashes the finger, use cases. I will use some combination of swear words for these must-have situations for about six months to a year and then I tend to come up with something new. A recent favorite, F**ing M**ther F**er, worked beautifully for a period of time before being replaced with F**ing S**T F**K. I think it has to do with Dr Pinker’s observation. F**ing M**ther F**er began to lose it pain killing mojo for me with extended use.

Not sure how much of this will make it past editor’s censoring finger. I’ll listen for a !*/#@%&?$ or two when he reads it. And I’ll keep you posted on those !*/#@%&?$ !*/#@%&?$ green tomatos!

A New Burn

2009-10-08T09:40:00.000-04:00

Some while ago I wrote about my newly acquired kettle bell. A 15 pound beauty that I began using in the office to tone up my arms during office hours. I started with repetitions of 10 of each of three movements, done three times for each arm, 180 reps all together. As my muscles got used to that I increased the number of reps and decreased the number of sets. I got to where I was doing 45 curls, 30 well bucket pickups, and 70 behind the head pull ups on each arm. This was in keeping with my original strategy of having a lot of reps at low weight to minimized the chance of injury, and more importantly, to emphasize tone over getting all ripped.

"I fell in love with a single piece 20 pounder for just $18. The thing was a solid hunk of metal with meaty hexagonal lobes at each end and a knurled handle in between."

But the numbers were getting too large. For one thing, what had once been a 10-minute obligation had stretched into 20 and I found myself skipping days sometimes because I had run out of time at the end of the day. The solution was pretty clear: buy heavier weights. I went over to a big-box sporting goods store (Dick’s) over on Route 1, looking for kettle bells. They were nowhere to be found. My disappointment was assuaged by the memory of how aggressively priced my first one was (like, 50 bucks). So I moseyed over to the old school dumbbells. I fell in love with a single piece 20 pounder for just $18. The thing was a solid hunk of metal with meaty hexagonal lobes at each end and a knurled handle in between. It felt good in my hand and I enjoyed slinging it around with me as I took a quick inventory of the latest gewgaws in Dick’s golfing alcove. My arms are built up to the point where carrying a 20-pound weight felt good rather than uncomfortable as I made my way around the store.

When I got my new friend home, I did 3 sets of 20 curls on each arm. That produced a pleasant burn and enlarged biceps that I flexed and unflexed for the rest of the day. An occasional narcissistic mirror checkout made it onto the menu as well. All said it was a good investment, and as I plan to use it at home rather than work, the missing kettle bell advantages will be less important.

Health food catch-up

2009-09-26T06:40:00.000-04:00

The sedentary one participated in a world wide cultural practice this weekend while at a college football game. Caught in the grip of a momentary sugar jones, he purchased and consumed a churro, a Mexican fried dough stick coated with cinnamon and sugar. There is apparently no culture on earth that has not taken it upon itself to hurl a lump of dough into a deep fryer and eat it. If they have grease, and a heat source of some sort, they be makin some kind of doughnut or another. Right here at home we have the doughboy, funnel cake (pancake batter squirted into at deep fryer in a spider web pattern), Elephant ears, frybread (native American), fudge puppies (a tubular waffle slathered with caramel, chocolate, etc.), sopaipillas (a puffy pillow of calories native to New Mexico), and a daring new departure, fried coke – coke (the drink!) - flavored batter deep fried and then bathed in thick coke syrup. Yes, America has much to be proud of.

"Taking the prize as the most unpleasant sounding entry is Norway’s smultring. If the English translation, “lard ring”, doesn’t win you over, you are not alone"

But we are not alone. Elsewhere in the hemisphere, Canada has beaver tails, a flattish fried bread, and Peru has its picarones, pumpkin dough fried and slathered up with molasses. Mexico’s bunuelo, a cookie shaped doughnut joins the churro as that country’s contributions to the fried dough pantheon. Moving to the old world, try a zeppole, a fried knot of rich dough, after you’ve had enough of the Italy’s healthier Mediterranean fare. Her German neighbor to the north beckons with it’s own Berliner – a ball shaped calorie bomb impregnated with sweet jam. Sweden offers the rosette, an ornate confection fried using a hot iron implement, at what must be significant danger to the chef and nearby observers. Taking the prize as the most unpleasant sounding entry is Norway’s smultring. If the English translation, “lard ring”, doesn’t win you over, you are not alone.

The middle east and asia offer such entries as the Indian Jalebi, a bird’s nest look-alike infused with sugary syrup. If your sweet tooth kicks up while admiring the caldera in Santorini, loukoumades, a Greek fried ball marinated in honey and cinnamon might be the ticket. Travel to China and your reward can be an Ox-tongue pastry. The name is off-putting, but refers only to the shape of this confection, not it’s contents. Sedentary men in South Africa will be pleased to offer you a twisted sister. No, not their deranged siblings, and not the hair band either. Koeksuster (say it three times fast in front of your mother) are fried doughballs which are dipped in sugar syrup while still hot, soaking up the sweet liquid like a sea-sponge. The result is perhaps the world’s most carbohydrate intensive snack. Carry on boys!

You do have to shout; I can’t hear you

2009-09-17T15:27:00.000-04:00

Went to a wedding yesterday and lost about 15% of my hearing.The sedentary man is not a fan of weddings for a variety of reasons, the leading one being the loudness of the music offered at the typical reception. Here’s what happens. At the beginning of the affair the DJ (we’ll talk about bands later) plays old favorites at almost background level volume. As the evening wears on, the selections become more fast-dance oriented. The volume is increased at intervals until just below the point where blood and viscous fluids erupt spontaneously from your ear canals. When a band is featured the same process happens, except the starting point is louder. I will grant that younger guests do enjoy themselves on the dance floor to the thunderous accompaniment. But then again, younger guests are invincible and will not need to think about hearing loss for a good 20 years.

"I grant my significant other 5 or so dances at each one of these hoedowns to avoid bitterness and silent car rides home"

Loud noises come in two flavors, impulse noise and continuous noise. Impulse noise is like a gunshot and can cause instant hearing damage. Continuous noise exceeding 85 decibels causes damage over time. Scientists have various theories as to how this takes place. What’s definitely known is that tiny hair-like cells, scilia, in the inner ear are damaged with excessive exposure to either kind of loud noise. These hairs play a pivotal role in translating sound waves into something your auditory nerves can absorb and take to the brain. 85 decibels is a level that is not hard to reach. Leaf blowers, shop tools, motorcycles, chain saws, even heavy city traffic, can easily exceed this level. At this weekend’s affair, I am certain that the DJ was cranking at a level of 120 or more.I couldn’t hear or be heard at my table and when I was on the dance floor (I grant my significant other 5 or so dances at each one of these hoedowns to avoid bitterness and silent car rides home) there was actual pain in my head.

But what is a sedentary man to do? You can’t walk out of the wedding. You would look like a jerk if you put in earplugs, although I do use them at athletic events. Maybe I will consider it for “next time”. Maybe looking like a jerk is better than losing your hearing. Perhaps as some point, when smoking, trans-fats and other health hazards have been sufficiently addressed, the powers that be will take a look at more extensive regulation of noise levels. It’s worth thinking about.

The two way wrist radio and other breakthroughs

2009-08-29T07:39:00.001-04:00

The Sedentary Man was chatting with editor the other day about a promotional advertising piece that will soon appear in Entertainment Weekly magazine. The device is a small display, about 2 inches square, which plays a video when the magazine page is opened. The video is smooth, in color, and of reasonably good quality. A separate speaker provides decent audio. Buttons will allow the user to manage the presentation, and the thing will be rechargeable, so we’ve heard. The whole unit is contained in a 1/8^th thick package, which is the same length and width as the magazine. The unit is less expensive than you probably think, and would be even less so, one supposes, if it were to be produced in larger quantities.

"Think about the comparison of 1940 versus 1975, and then contrast that with the comparison 2009 versus 1975"

What strikes me as remarkable about this item is its modest cost and the possibilities of other applications. You could develop disposable movies on this platform. Or at some point, have yourself a five dollar iPhone. Editor and I were reflecting on what that would mean and about what has happened in technology in recent years. Think about the comparison of 1940 versus 1975, and then contrast that with the comparison 2009 versus 1975. 35 years in each case. The most recent period has brought heart transplants, personal computers, networked computing, digital recording, cellular telephone, appendage reattachment, Windows, email, Photoshop, personal navigation systems, iPod, iPhone, the Segway, bar code scanning, video games, automobile CPUs, the internet, 3D printers, Magnetic Resonance Imaging, laparoscopic surgery, Lasic eye surgery, genetically engineered plants, military stealth technology, cloning, brain machine interfaces, 32 gigabit thumb drives, online banking, nanotechnology, computer graphic imaging in movies (Spiderman!), and Dippin' Dots ice cream. The 1940-1975 period brought the jet engine, color television, harnessing of the atom, the transistor, space travel, and the Pop Tart. Of course more items can be added to each list, but the 1975-2009 period is still going to blow away the earlier changes.

One of the (several) reasons that the sedentary man would like to see old age is just to see what’s going to happen next!

Passive Attack

2009-08-17T09:42:00.000-04:00

The Sedentary Man got a kick this weekend out of a commercial he saw for the “Back2Life” back pain treatment machine. The device, pictured here, is designed to help people with lower back pain. The sufferer lies on his or her back with the back of the knees draped over the two leg supports. The height is adjustable to accommodate different sized people. There is a motor of some sort (the device plugs into the wall), which rotates the upper leg-rest portion in an elliptical motion, something the Back2Life scientists call “continuous passive motion”. A series of motion graphics shows how this causes the spine to get very comfortable and all aligned up, so the user feels like he’s 15 years old or so. After 8-12 minutes on the machine the average back pain sufferer can go out sling a chain saw around, play volleyball, or pick up 40 pounds of groceries.

"My only complaint is that it might interfere with your sight line to the TV, but I guess only for 8-12 minutes"

The commercial fascinated me on a few of levels. First, this thing is so Sedentary Man! A device that you don’t even have to expend any energy on! I don’t have any back problems, but it I did, I would sure consider one of these suckers. My only complaint is that it might interfere with your sight line to the TV, but I guess only for 8-12 minutes. Second, it looks like a “Little Tykes” plastic toy for toddlers. What were they going for there? They should have probably put some black or silver on it, or at least made it all white. Finally, what an amazing value! Apparently these items have been selling in Europe for $600 or however many Euros (€?) that is. Even so, they can be had here, if you call immediately, for just five payments of $39.95. Not sure how they get away with charging three times as much to the poor Germans, French etc. I guess our back pain sufferers are much more savvy consumers and probably wouldn’t fork over $600, or $400 or even $300!

This thing reminded me for some reason of the devices they had in the 1950’s which looked like a parking meter with a canvas belt loop hanging out of it. The user would stand in front of the machine with the loop around his butt while it oscillated back and forth like a shoeshine rag. No idea whatsoever what benefit this device was supposed to convey, but I think the passive nature of its use is what attracted those mid century sedentarians (my lifestyle ancestors!).

Be sure to wear a cap while exercising!

A sedentary sports observer reports

2009-08-10T10:08:00.000-04:00

I was watching the New York Yankees vs. Boston Red Sox baseball game earlier this evening (won by the Yankees 5-2 to complete a four game sweep of the Beantowners). It caused me to reflect on the widely differing natures of various sports. I think there may be more differences than commonalities among them. I’m talking mostly about team sports played in the USA, so apologies right off the bat for a lack of treatment of sports not popular here – I simply don’t have to expertise to talk about them.

"[A] baseball player, especially a pitcher, can get by with being in far less impressive shape than the average soccer player."

Lets talk conditioning. I think soccer leads the way in endurance conditioning required. These participants play in games that last 90 minutes, they don’t come out for breathers, and they spend a significant portion of that time running. Not surprisingly, games tend to be played with at least several days rest in between. Players need good hand to eye to foot coordination, but not as much as baseball, wherein a 31/2 inch ball traveling at speeds of up to 100 miles per hour must be struck by a 3 inch cylinder of wood. Fantastic athletes have failed miserably to perform this task. But a baseball player, especially a pitcher, can get by with being in far less impressive shape than the average soccer player. And it’s not uncommon for a team to play baseball games for a dozen consecutive days.

American football is unlike soccer or baseball. Played once a week, this games consists of explosive movement and contact with significant rest in between each play. In fact, a 60 minute football game really only has about 20 minutes of actual athletic activity. But football players are, depending on the position played, among the fastest and strongest of all athletes. Injuries abound: you must have a week or so off after a football game, no exceptions. Successful football player careers last only 4-5 years on average, versus 12-15 for baseballers. I believe soccer, at the highest levels, is somewhere in between these two, limited by the critical importance of speed, which deteriorates in the early 30s.

"What you need to be a pro golfer is the ability to get a lot of moving parts of your body working together in a highly repeatable way."

For total athletic ability, it’s hard to top basketball. These athletes must have coordination of hands feet and body. Both speed and athleticism are paramount for most positions. Games tend to be played with a day or two off in between. Strength is helpful, especially for rebounding, but it’s not nearly as critical as it is for football. Careers last 8-10 years, like soccer, declining as speed does.

I have to talk about one non-team sport – golf. Speed? Not required at all. Hand to eye coordination? Well, you have to hit a little ball, but it isn’t moving. Strength? Not really. Athleticism? I don’t think so. What you need to be a pro golfer is the ability to get a lot of moving parts of your body working together in a highly repeatable way. You also have to be able to maintain a high level of concentration over the course of a four-hour game. I believe it requires more practice than any other sport, to support the repeatability requirement. Interestingly, golf is probably the only professional sport where a halfway decent middle-aged amateur could actually compete in a professional event without risking injury or immediate humiliation.

Wascally wabbits and damn deer

2009-08-04T16:08:00.000-04:00

Why do we do things over and over again, expecting a different result? I woke up this morning to discover that marauding deer had devoured my tomato crop once more. Each year I lovingly purchase small tomato plants and nudge them toward production of a usable crop of fruit. I water the plants faithfully as needed. I provide generous amounts of fertilizer and prime, sunny real estate. Each plant has all that it needs to produce hearty flavorful New Jersey tomatoes -- a nourishing and healthful supplement to my supermarket diet. And they do, or at least they try. But my property, which is in the central part of the state, is home to a vast collection of destructive wildlife. Rabbits dine on flowers of all types. Vicious Ants, for some reason, treat the wood which holds my house together like a prize-winning signature dish of some celebrity chef. Some sort of miniature spiders attack my basil plants, leaving off-putting black and brown spots. Grubs, the disgusting larval stage version of Japanese beetles, munch the roots of my grass, leaving spots of dead lawn as their polka-dot signature.

"They metamorphose from the sleek and beautiful creatures that we admire on the side of a country road, into a tick-ridden, mangy plague"

But the deer cultivate a very special disaffection in my heart. Invading my property and eating my tender darlings, they metamorphose from the sleek and beautiful creatures that we admire on the side of a country road, into a tick-ridden, mangy plague. I fantasize about inflicting a violent death on these beasts, but then worry about what to do with the rotting carcasses on my lawn. Not to mention the “what a monster!” looks that I would surely get from my shocked neighbors. Hey, it was just a fantasy, ok?

"I have an uneasy feeling that the pepper spray, once diluted by the passage of time, actually enhanced the dining experience for my little friends"

To give you a flavor of the helplessness of my plight, I will describe one of the techniques I employed to stem the wildlife invasion. It was one of many, but the one that I considered the cleverest. This was for my battle with the rabbits. I purchased about of pound of habanera peppers, the most potent hot pepper commonly available in the USA. I ran them through my juicer (that’s the clever part!), coming out with about a quarter cup of very, very potent liquid. The fact that I nearly succumbed to the fumes right there on the kitchen floor and burnt the hell out of my fingers with the volatile pepper extract only heightened my conviction that this might be the answer. I mixed the stuff with some water and filled a spray bottle. Squirt, squirt onto the rudbekias and hosta in the front yard. My property immediately smelled like a sulfury, burning tar pit. There was toxicity in the air. Some of the targeted plants took on a stench of their own: death. The bunnies stayed away for a few days but soon all was back as it was (except for the dead plants). I have an uneasy feeling that the pepper spray, once diluted by the passage of time, actually enhanced the dining experience for my little friends.

I could take you through a litany of other offensives: garlic spray (salad dressing!), rubber snakes, fake owls, wolf piss spray etc etc. But the story is always the same. I guess I’ll just have to buy my tomatoes from the farmer’s market. I’ll probably save money in the end, but I’ll sure miss the frontiersman-like self-sufficiency of growing my own food.

Saratoga Springs Eternal

2009-07-27T11:15:00.000-04:00

Well it’s late on a Friday night and as for writing this column, I am so on it. My apologies to the loyal readers who dropped in last week only to find a steaming pile of moldering blog content. Your correspondent was on a mini vacation to Saratoga Springs, New York and couldn’t will himself to file a story remotely. Saratoga (for short) is a county seat sort of town, a bit over three hours of easy driving north of Manhattan. My bargain with other family members was that I would drive us all up there if I would be then excused from attending the two headlining events of the weekend: a poetry reading and an art gallery reception. Loyal readers of this blog recognize that SM is a highly cultured and refined citizen, but these activities nevertheless are un-high on his list of things to do on a weekend while alive. Whilst skipping those events I was a) watching a ballgame with gas station food accompaniment, and b) playing golf. The rest of the time was family inclusive sampling of the many delights of Saratoga.

"The town, birthplace of the potato chip and the club sandwich, is one of my favorite places in the galaxy"

The town, birthplace of the potato chip and the club sandwich, is one of my favorite places in the galaxy and here’s why. There are more than 100 restaurants, many of them excellent. What is perhaps the most brilliant bakery on the continent, Mrs. London’s, lies smack dab in the middle of town, and features many formal French confections (try the canelets if you ever make the pilgrimage). The town itself is lovely and very prosperous from, one supposes, the elaborate horse racing season in late summer. An unfortunate fact is that you may not want to be in Saratoga during racing season (late July to early September), as prices for rooms in the hotels become unaffordable for the non-wealthy. There are many lively watering holes if you like that sort of thing, and spiffy and comfortable hotels abound. One can pay a modest amount to soak in heated spring waters at the spa, something I’m told is muchly worthwhile. I guess if I had splurged on one, I could have made this column more closely resemble its health and nutrition mission, rather than the rambling travelogue it seems to have become. (Hey, go read Adventure Girl if you have a beef). There are also museums of antique cars, dancing and horseracing, and a surfeit of golf courses, driving ranges and shopping opportunities. Fun for the whole family.

"I convinced the proprietress that while I was not old enough, I was certainly infirm enough to qualify."

Oh yes, the golf. Some research led me to the Galway Golf Club (see above), a most informal layout about 22 miles from nowhere. It was drivable from the Saratoga area but my time was short. They reserved motorized carts for senior citizens, which I was mildly pleased to learn did not include me. I convinced the proprietress that while I was not old enough, I was certainly infirm enough to qualify. The cart allowed me to complete 18 holes in less than three hours, which was all the time I had. The course was something I had often imagined but thought did not exist: a track for poor players. It featured no sand traps, no water hazards, short holes and unelevated greens. I was able to work on various aspects of my game and enjoy glorious weather at the same time.

Saratoga Springs. Do it.

Who let that cave man in here?

2009-07-12T11:48:00.000-04:00

I tend to look at most human behaviors in terms of evolutionary biology, because it is such a robust analytical framework. I think about this when I observe that a lot of people are exercising these days but most are not. Obesity and other physical problems seem to be on the rise in the U.S. but why? Evolutionary biology might suggest that behaviors so inimical to survival would not be in evidence, and yet there they are.

"Steven Hawking would not have made it to adulthood in ancient Babylon. But in this era he was able to pass his genes on to Lucy Hawking. "

I think there are a couple of things going on. First “survival”. What does it mean? It does not mean living to 100. It means living long enough to produce viable offspring. You can have kids and then die prematurely due to heart disease and still have survived in an evolutionary sense. So, many maladies that kill but only later on – prostate cancer would be another example – can survive the evolutionary weeding out process quite easily because its victims live long enough to pass along the susceptibility gene. In cave man times, life expectancy was probably less than 30 years. So, things that killed early in life, like not being afraid of saber tooth tigers, were weeded out quickly. A propensity for contracting skin cancer, however, not so much. So that’s one thing.

Second, just as evolution has become understood, we are leaving it behind. Medical advances enable us to prolong life and preserve harmful susceptibilities and unlucky genes left and right. You can debate whether medicine these days is too “heroic”, but you are probably glad it is when you have a kidney stone. So saving a child from leukemia permits him to pass his genes, including the leukemia affinity, to another generation. That’s fine by me, we’ll work on a cure in the meantime. Another departure from the evolutionary way can be seen in modern societies’ protection of people with disabilities (a wonderful development) where ancient ones were quick to toss them under the chariot. Steven Hawking would not have made it to adulthood in ancient Babylon. But in this era he was able to pass his genes on to Lucy Hawking. I think it’s worth noting the emergence of nobility like that in between laments about the less gracious aspects of modern society.

Evolution, it’s not just for survival anymore!

Eat it, just eat it.

2009-07-04T17:22:00.000-04:00

I read a book today, or parts of one, and I want to tell you about it. It’s called “What to Eat” and it is by Marion Nestle,, a professor of sociology at NYU. Nestle writes from a sociologist’s point of view about foods, nutrition, and the food industry and its politics. Her bonafides: she has a PhD in molecular biology and a masters in Sociology, both from Cal Berkley. This book was valuable to me because I have lived with many unanswered questions about food and nutrition and it nailed a few of them. I will talk here about two.

"As fish get bigger, they eat first small fish and then larger fish. So it is not until it is mature that the salmon is eating it’s full measure of PCBs."

Start off with fish. OF COURSE we should eat fish a couple of times a week for its cardio and circulatory health benefits. OF COURSE we should avoid farm-raised fish because of the toxins concentrated it its flesh. OF COURSE line-caught fish is very, very expensive. That’s two to one against, so even though I love the stuff, I don’t eat much fish. Is this the right decision? Lets ask Marion. Fish in the wild, let’s say salmon, eat different types of things as they grow. Baby fish eat plankton and krill – tiny, short-lived creatures that do not live long enough to pick up large amounts of toxins. When I say toxins, I am mainly talking about PCBs (Polychlorinated biphenyls), which concentrate and persist in the environment. As fish get bigger, they eat first small fish and then larger fish. So it is not until it is mature that the salmon is eating it’s full measure of PCBs. Farmed fish by contrast are fed, right from the get-go, fish meal that is made up of by-products of large fish – oil, bones, heads etc. So the farmed fish are subjected to larger amounts of PCBs sooner than their wild cousins. And they have more PCBs in them when they arrive at your dinner table. Bottom line: avoid the farmed raised fish if at all possible – go with herring and sardines, which are lower on the food chain and thus absorb less toxins. If you must, try to find certified safe farmed fish (Whole Foods claims this for all its farm-raised fish) and avoid farmed fish from Europe, which has higher levels of PCBs than farmed fish from the Americas.

"I would skip drinking from that bottle of Desani that has been rolling around in your 100 degree trunk for three months."

Next plastic bottles of water and other stuff. Does the plastic leach off dangerous chemicals (plastisizers) into your beverage? Are your sex organs and reproductive health being compromised by the leachates? Well, yes, to the first one but probably no to number two. Thing is, the quantities are so small, measured in billionths of a gram, that they seem unlikely to be causing any trouble. Go ahead and drink up, but more leaching occurs the hotter the liquid, so I would skip drinking from that bottle of Desani that has been rolling around in your 100 degree trunk for three months. I would also generally avoid drinks including water that have been sitting for a long time (months) in plastic bottles. The more time they have to leach the more leaching they will do.

Check out “What to Eat”. It was published in 2006 and should be in any good library if you don’t want to pony up $16. http://fora.tv/2008/08/14/Marion_Nestle_What_to_Eat is a very engaging lecture Nestle gave a while back. She also has a good website http://www.whattoeatbook.com/ in which you can also find a lot of this stuff. Her attack on the confusion we face in our food choices is a great service. Check it out.

Public Speaking for Private Progress

2009-06-27T15:24:00.000-04:00

The SM has taken another step toward self-improvement. No, it’s not a new exercise regime, or a special lo-something or hi-something diet. It’s more improvement for the mind, spirit, and professional well-being. I joined the Toastmasters organization. This is a loose confederation of clubs, scattered across the country and dedicated to the betterment of public speaking skills. It’s fun and worthwhile.

At the beginning of this year I committed to improving my public speaking. I can write pretty well and communicate effectively in small groups but have never been satisfied with my performances speaking to larger ones. I was casting about for a means to accomplish this end when I remembered hearing about Toastmasters. I checked it out on the web. Turns out that they have a group right here in Manhattan, and it meets in my very own building. Karma.

"I was terrified when giving my first table talk, but have now done four of them and am starting to relish the challenge."

I have to admit; I thought the group would consist of people with real communication issues. You know, people who could never hope to speak to a group. This was not the case at all. Sure some members have more innate communication skills than others, but the group consists overwhelmingly of intelligent, successful, confident people. They really are folks that are sharp and want to get sharper.

The meetings go on for two hours and take place every two weeks. The first half of the meeting consists of “Table talks”, impromptu speeches of 1-2 minutes. Each attendee has to do one and the topics are given to the speaker just as he or she stands up to speak. You have to think on your feet. The second half consists of four formal speeches of 5-7 minutes apiece. Various attendees have administrative tasks such as timing the speakers, counting the, ah, ums and ahs, and evaluating other speakers.

I was terrified when giving my first table talk, but have now done four of them and am starting to relish the challenge. I have given my first formal speech and learned a lot about my own capabilities. I memorized the whole thing, for example, and gave it without having to refer to notes at all. Since I have never been able to remember anything, including what I had for breakfast, I was surprised and pleased.

The group is very supportive, a key strategy of Toastmasters, and friendly to boot. I enjoy the meetings and can feel myself becoming a better speaker after each one. Speaking skills are not physical or mental ones, but a combination of both. Improving them is just one small part of creating a whole new me.

Straighten that putter, soldier…

2009-06-21T12:59:00.000-04:00

I don’t know why I didn’t think of this myself. Platoon golf. Golf as exercise. I love the game, even though it leaves me harshly unrequited as often as not. But I have always secretely thought that it comes up a bit short as exercise. Oh, I will note that walking all that distance while swinging the club 80 or 90 times (ok 100) has got to do something. But I never thought there was much cardio pulmonary benefit. Well here is the answer. Do exercise while you are playing. Platoon golf is an offspring of Platoon fitness, a Philadelphia area fitness program. Platoon fitness promotes fitness using military training principles and incorporating bits and pieces of other fitness regimens.

“I can’t guarantee anybody that I can lower their scores — I’m not the golf pro”

Mike Smaltz is the Director of Operations and Training at Platoon Fitness, and he’s a golfer.
“I can’t guarantee anybody that I can lower their scores — I’m not the golf pro,” says Smaltz. “What I can do is eliminate the physical ailments that are holding back progress.” So what does he recommend? Well first and most obvious, ditch the motorized cart. Walk the 18 holes and you will indeed get some fitness benefit. Not just from walking the 5 miles, but even more if you plunk your drives off course and have to walk even further chasing them down. Second, he recommends using the dead time between sinking your put and teeing off on the next hole to do stretching type exercises – toe touches, jumping jacks and the like. Of course, you can’t be rude to players behind you by slowing things down, so timing is everything. Finally Smaltz says, “speed things up”. Play your round in three hours rather than 4 and a half. This is significant. It means jogging to your ball rather than walking. Now you are talking exercise. I find that I am quite worn out after just walking the 18 holes. Add jogging in, and a little jumping jack action and I’m going to be all in.

I’m going to give it a try. Well, at least part way. I don’t thing Sedentary Man, at his present fitness level, is capable of jogging a golf course and playing, or even just jogging a golf course (“or even just playing” I know you are thinking it). If nothing else, the stretching aspects will be well worth it. I tend to stiffen up on later holes in a round, particularly if the weather is on the cool side. Hey, I lift weights while working in the office. Bottom line: you can find fitness opportunities in many walks of life other than just the traditional ones. Now GET MOVING, you miserable pukes!

Jonesing for Bpop

2009-06-13T16:49:00.000-04:00

My name is Sedentary Man and I am an addict. There, I feel so much better already. The first step in dealing with addiction is admitting you have a problem. The only thing is, I do not want to be cured of this addiction. You see, the narcotic is Bpop, a game app that I purchased for my iPod. I can control the urge to play it (never turning it on at work, for example) but I give it free reign in situations like my railroad commute. Bpop is fairly simple in concept. It is a square matrix of 100 colored squares, 10 by 10 on a side. The only thing you can do to manipulate the squares is click on a cluster of two or more, at which point they disappear, with squares from above falling down to take their place. New squares do not appear at the top – this is not Tetris. Nor are you pressed for time – there is no game clock. What you have to do is think spatially so that you can plan your future moves, dependent as they are upon your current one. The object is to garner as many points as possible. The longer the chain of same colored squares that you click off the screen, the more points you get. It’s geometric, so clicking off a chain of four squares gets you more than twice as many points as clicking off a chain of two squares. You also get bonus points at the end of each round – the fewer squares you leave standing the more bonus points you get.

So, why don’t I want to be cured of this? Anything that becomes obsessive gets to be a drag, right? Well, yes, except when the addiction may be keeping dementia out of your cranium for a few extra years. I’m sure you have read that challenging the mind is beneficial in keeping it sharp in old age, a status that SM will be staring at in another decade or two.

from Living Older, Living Better! by Katrina Gwinn, MD:

Engaging in leisure activities that stimulate your brain may help you lead a
longer, healthier life. These activities can even help prevent disorders like
dementia, including Alzheimers disease.
• Do Crossword puzzles
• Play Scrabble
• Play chess, checkers, cards or bingo
• Memorize a vocabulary word daily. Make a point of using the daily word in your conversation. One fun way to do this is to subscribe to the word of the day service, provided by dictionary.com for free, in which a vocabulary word is sent to your email every day.
• Participate in some other mentally challenging games to sharpen your wits.

A recent study showed that elderly people who did crossword puzzles four times a week or more had a markedly (47 percent) decreased risk of dementia than those who did these puzzles once a week or less.

Well Bpop certainly qualifies. To play well you have to really concentrate and plan your moves. In spite of the fact that you can only click off squares, there is considerable strategy involved. A well-played game can take you through 25 or 30 screens and last an hour and a half. The demands are significant enough that if I am playing with distractions, or insufficient sleep, my scores suffer noticeably. I go through computer games from time to time. They usually last a month or so before I become bored with them. Bpop is keeping a strong hold so far but will succumb eventually, and then I will find something else. In the meantime, my best score is 110,000 and I think I will go play a game right now.

Sedentary Man - The Emerging Runner's First Columnist

2009-06-13T07:09:00.000-04:00

Over the last five months Sedentary Man has shared his perspective with Emerging Runner readers. He may claim to be sedentary but with his devotion to the Kettlebell he's making some great progress. You can read his past columns below.