Semi-Down Days

I have things to do today, but nothing too pressing. On my calendar is a single meeting--it's important, but requires no advance prep, and I don't have to lead it. The second gig is a short photo shoot with a graduate student. I applied for and won a campus grant to develop an online Master's degree program; the grant will fund the grad student next year to help me with the work. So today is not a quite a down day, it's "semi-down." There's plenty on the short term agenda, and so I won't squander hours spinning in my chair and eating sugary peanuts. But if tasks that could be done today happen to spill over to tomorrow or the next day, no one will worry. Semi-down days are good for catching up and for anticipatory spadework that can prevent deadline panics. Days like these also yield emotional dividends because stress levels can drift downward to health-sustaining levels. The absence of a hurry-up mentality means more time for social banter and the chance of an unplanned, but real, personal connection. Semi-down days are unlikely to become banner days, but that's just fine. I'm ready for semi-down. I'm looking forward to it.

Ketogenic

Dr. Atkins advocated a weight-loss diet that became famous not only because it was effective, but also because it was also fantastically counterintuitive. Put crudely, Atkins promoted eating fat to lose fat. His argument was that feared dietary fat is not the main culprit in weight gain; rather, it is overconsumption of calories. A caloric surfeit of carbohydrates, not fat, is the riskier dietary imbalance. Carbohydrates wreak havoc with insulin control and are easily converted to body fat. Blood sugar spikes lead to subsequent crashes, which can prompt over-eating. Atkins understood that carbs, especially the "empty" carbs found in starchy foods—breads, pastas, potatoes, desserts—were the nutritional baddies. Take away carbs and what you have left are fats and proteins. Proteins are good, though often maligned; fats can be good or bad, depending on the type. If you reduce carbs and go with proteins and fats, your physiology changes, which is what interested Atkins. Once your body gets used to burning dietary fats, it is primed to burn body fat is well. One by-product is elevated levels of blood ketones. They can make you feel woozy and, I understand, produce a chemical scent on breath. So if my breath smells bad, take note: It's the ketones.

Duffy Boats

The admonition, "Don't knock it until you've tried it" is well worth heeding. For me, it applies to Duffy boats. In appearance, Duffys are the most un-cool boats you've ever seen. They are stubby little boxes that are almost as tall as they are long. Their tops are flat canvas canopies, and the sides are either open or are draped in transparent plastic with zippered openings. Ugly, in my opinion. Also, they are slow. With electric motors that are barely audible, the Duffy is built for an easy cruise over quiet waters, gondola-style. The inside of a Duffy consists of bench seating along both sides and ends, with tables down the middle. Now the table is worth some comment: It has four wells for wine bottles, and plenty of space for sliced cheese, fresh fruit, and coconut shrimp. This is a hint that a reconceptualization is in order. The point of a Duffy is not to look good, it's to feel good with friends. It's designed not to arrive in style, but for traveling amid laughing, loving friends. I was wrong to diss the funny-looking Duffy--not that I think it's cool, you understand. But for the pleasure it affords on a summer evening over the calm waters of Newport Harbor, it has my respect.

Ultimate Reality

Last night I saw a winner of a movie, Inception, starring Leonardo DiCaprio and directed by Christopher Nolan. The subject of the film, from one angle, is the distinction between reality and fantasy--and the often terrible difficulty we have distinguishing between the two. In Inception, this distinction concerns dreaming and wakeful consciousness in the "real world." The plot works because it latches onto common experience: Dreams can seem powerfully real. Indeed, dreams may be real in their own way. They are widely believed (thanks to Freud) to give life to ideas and struggles that are taboo or too painful to contemplate while awake. The characters in Inception must struggle to distinguish what's real from dreamlike fantasies that include threatening agents from the unconscious. According to Nolan's ingenious plot, DiCaprio and others must work to separate dreams from reality for their own survival. The audience, too, must concentrate, which is half the fun. Even if the viewer succeeds, the plot closes with an element of nagging unambiguity, which is artfully rendered in the final frame of the movie. It's this: Is ultimate reality—the tangible experience of our waking lives—the real reality?

Why Round Numbers?

This morning I reached the 30,000 word mark on my manuscript. I felt this was worthy of celebration, even if only a prevocal "yay" in my left temporal lobe (the language center). Why should I feel good about passing what in base 10 is a round number. It's arbitrary, right? But I'm not the only one--we all do it. The couple who celebrates 50 years of marriage is feted for attaining their "golden" anniversary. The person who lives to 100 years is classified a "centenarian." I love round numbers--maybe more than most. I'm fascinated, for example, by psychology research showing that expertise in any domain is associated with 50,000 hours of serious engagement. Even the title of this blog, Century Hypothesis, cryptically invokes a beautifully round integer. Isn't it all so artificial? If the answer is yes, then do we conclude it must be silly? That would be a mistake. We long for the real and authentic experiences, and (I believe) find them in nature, transparent relationships, and elsewhere. Yet our categories of thought are fundamentally contrived. Semioticians learned a long time ago that words, and to some degree their referent objects, are arbitrary. So, too, is the significance we attach to round numbers. Yet round numbers—like so many conventions of culture—inspire, motivate, and help us to understand. And what's wrong with that?

Like a Chippewa Indian

I'm nearly at the 30,000 word mark in my book manuscript. The publisher spec'ed the book at 120,000 words, so I have a ways to go. With coffee in hand, I punch out between 300 and 700 words every morning--not quite the thousand-word mark that I hope for. I'm on track, though, if I can maintain the pace. The way to get this job done by the 18-month deadline is to make regular, rhythmic progress. It's a massive job, so I try my best to be a Chippewa. That's because Chippewas "chip away" at projects that at face value are intimidating in size and scope. They know that, like the great Pyramids of Cheops, books are built piece by piece over an extended time. The worker's focus must be on the few bricks that must be moved, placed, and mortared today. Actually, I know nothing at all about Chippewa Indians. But it's a great mnemonic to get me through. My more sensitive daughters have been known to raise an eyebrow when I invoke the Chippewas. Oh well--they'll still love me. And, besides, they are likewise undaunted by grand and difficult projects. How do they go about their work? They chip away, of course. They, too, imitate the honorable Chippewas.

I'm Hungry

Because so many people, events, and possibilities fill these days, finding one suitable for a blog entry is pretty easy. Said otherwise, it's often hard to choose. In selecting each topic, I think for a moment about which among the day's swirling ideas are most vivid. I ask myself, as I sometimes ask Stephanie (but only half-seriously): "What's your dominant reality?" For me, right now, the dominant reality is hunger. I'm two-thirds of the way though a planned 15 pound weight reduction, and I would like to lose the additional five pounds before the end of the month. Weight loss is not for sissies—it hurts! Excess weight is a big deal to most adults. Its implicated in health risks and problems, and it limits a person's range of activities. Maybe the most pressing effect is the threat to self-esteem. Overweight and obesity are caused by a ratio of calorie consumption to calorie expenditure of greater than 1. A perfect match, a ratio of exactly 1, results in weight stability. Averaged over time, overweight people have only a slight consumption error of maybe 1.01, but the error accumulates. Common experience tells us that us that a calorie ratio of .99, .98, or lower is tough sledding, especially if it's to be sustained. So, if I start fantasizing about my next meal during a conversation, please forgive me.