no-poo shampoo

My partner has been using "no-poo" for about 3 months and I joined the crusade against polluting our streams with chemicals, even "organic" ones, a couple of weeks ago.

Baking soda paste applied directly to the scalp. If desired, you can follow with a watered down vinegar solution (1 part vinegar to about 10 parts water). I stopped using the vinegar and will try a touch of lemon, since they're in season. I was also told about using yucca flowers instead of baking soda. Since they're blooming all over the hills right now, I will try it and report back. They smell much nicer than vinegar. So... more to come.

How to be Happy: Part 1

Get old.

We've known this for years, but new theories explaining the phenomenon have renewed interest in the finding that, as we get older, we get happier.

http://www.pnas.org/content/early/2010/05/04/1003744107.abstract

This, my friends, is something to look forward to. After all, our cognitive abilities decline with each passing year after our mid to late 20's: we forget more, it becomes harder to learn a second language, our attention shifts more slowly; and I don't need to tell most of you about the physical effects of aging... what now takes months to heal used to take weeks, if I heal at all. Yet, we become happier and happier.

Thankfully, we have no choice but to get old. Here are a few other predictors of happiness, of which we actually have control over:

1. Political affiliation: Republicans are happier than Democrats. Republicans seem to resonate with ideas such as, "people get what they deserve" and "if you work hard, it'll pay off," whereas Democrats believe social injustices occur in the world every day, disparities exist, and Democrats suffer when others suffer.

2. Being married: Married couples, but only happily married couples, are happier than unmarried couples or singles. Research has shown that being married and unhappy, though, is actually worse than being single. So, fix that troubled relationship or get out if you're looking for bliss. Ironically enough, married men live longer than unmarried men, but married women live less long than unmarried women. So, chose your goals (happiness, longevity) wisely. Maybe I should consider marrying a woman... hmm...

3. Income: Money does buy happiness, to some extent. The research is conflicting, though, with some studies showing no effects of income (past the ability to meet basic needs such as food, shelter, clothing, etc.) and others showing no real differences until one becomes very wealthy. Accumulation of wealth past a certain point, to me, seems problematic for any society. I'll save this discussion for another post.

For more, go here:

http://pewresearch.org/pubs/301/are-we-happy-yet

Psychological Spillover Effects

From an evolutionary perspective, our bodies were not designed to climb mountains for fun, to run so fast and hard that it risks our physical and psychological health, or to bike 80 miles per day gaining thousands of feet of elevation. We were designed to run from things, like pumas (danger), and to things, like deer (food).

So, when my best girlfriend decided to let me choose the route for our annual bike ride, of course, I chose to fight evolution. I did not intend the ride to be such a challenge, but profiles are abstract and difficult to imagine in the absence of action. At least I can only assume that's why she agreed.

After picking her up from LAX, we drove immediately to San Simeon, stealth camped, and tried to mentally prepare for what the morning would bring. Our plan was to bike from town to Big Sur, then back, totaling roughly 120 miles with more than 5000 ft of elevation gain, and we accomplished our goal in only 24 hours. The ride was challenging, particularly for Miranda who was coming from St. Louis where there are few training hills.

There are many aspects of the trip I could discuss, but I want to focus on the spillover effects that permeated our journey since understanding these effects might actually benefit humanity, whereas writing about the ride is of little societal importance. Spillover effects are emotional reactions to an experience that "spill over" into some other experience not associated with the cause of the experienced emotions. For example, driving in traffic might cause stress and anxiety and anger, making it more likely for that driver to argue with his or her partner upon arrival at home. The partner might have done nothing wrong, nothing at all, and yet, fighting and blame ensues.

Exercise is a common cause of spillover effects. Our brains have not yet evolved to realize the difference between running for fun, which we weren't designed to do, and running from or to something of importance. So, we experience a heightened sense of arousal during exercise (get your mind out of the gutter) - our heart races, we sweat, our breaths become shallow and rapid. Our brains interpret those physical responses as the need to fight or flee. Subsequently, we are more likely to argue or become angry either during or shortly after a hard workout. Test this idea for yourself.

Needless to say, on our bike trip, my friend and I spent a great deal of our time fighting, bickering, snapping at each other. We biked hard and our machines were amped up to conquer the beasts, or in this case the hills. Of course, in the moment it is difficult to remember that exercise and exhaustion causes crankiness, so for about 24 hours we hated each other. Thankfully, after a couple of shots of tequila and some karaoke with Elvis (who looked more like Johnny Cash), we were best friends again. We're already planning our next trip... this time, it's her choice.

Thanks Miranda. Thanks Elvis.

Aren't all bees feral?

Okay, so I'm making up for lost time. I read this article in the LA Times today, a paper that, unlike the NYT, I haven't gotten in the habit of reading on a regular basis, and perhaps should now that LA is my hometown.

Come on people, don't you realize that bees = food. Let me say this another way: no bees = no food. Stop killing "feral" bees, seriously.

I'm shocked that this is happening in Santa Monica of all places. I thought we were supposed to be more progressive that this. Maybe I shouldn't be surprised... our winter ice rink probably uses as much energy as we save with our LED solar-powered ferris wheel.

Anyway, here's the scoop on the bees:

http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-bees-20100426,0,5573685.story

Your town might be doing this, too. Find out, after all, we need bees.

Thoughts from Mexico

It was hot when I went to bed. It was hot when I woke up. Like the relentless heat, I also fell asleep and woke up to the smell and sound of motos whizzing by, but I do not let them prevent me from opening the balcony door to let in some cool air. Mental note to self: Do not take in this morning air. Do not take in a deep breath. The feeling of freshness is just an illusion, like menthol cigarettes. It is 6:30AM, early enough to wander the streets sin crema after too much time spent in the sun yesterday, so I wash my face, drip cold water on my burns, and venture out for a walk. Only the locals are up, sweeping the sidewalks in front of their shops, most too sleepy to acknowledge my presence much less have the energy to shout “come take a look at my crafts, lady.” The number of policia patrolling the streets surprises me. They seem bored, but I am hoping for civil unrest. It seems long overdue. I’ve been coming to the island every couple of years since 2004. During each visit I see more policia, fewer bicycles, more cell phones, fewer mujeres wearing traditional dresses. McDonalds and Starbucks have moved in, but my favorite panadaria is still the only one in town. There seem to be huge disparities here in health and financial wellbeing of the island’s various inhabitants. Tourism is the foundation of the economy and without it the island could support about ¼ (I made up this number) of its current population. The people who serve the tourists make just enough to get by, something I think about when I calculate tips—$2 is 20%, but that doesn’t seem enough. If I leave more, will I be flaunting my money?--questions I find myself asking more and more often, even at home. While I’ve always felt rich, even as a child when we had "candle nights" and into my graduate school years when my income fell below the poverty line, I now make more than I feel comfortable with, which isn't all that much. Making money is a blessing and a burden. The change in culture here bothers me a little, but I’m not exactly sure why. After all, the people seem happy, and when I randomly sample folks and ask them whether or not they are happy, they answer “si” with a smile. I’m reminded of an experiment that I discuss in class when I want to teach the troubles of introspection as a method for understanding the mind. The key finding is that when asked first how many dates they’ve gone on in the past month, then whether or not they are happy, fewer students report being happy than when only asked whether or not they are happy. It seems cruel to remind people of their troubles, so I don’t attempt to replicate this finding in my street version. There will be no civil unrest today, no uprising against the industry that is slowly wiping out the natural resources, devouring all available square foot of land, and filling the air with pollution. If la policia do not stop them, any revolutionaries that might exist on this island will definitely be detained by the men wearing camo who carry guns the size of rocket launchers and are hauled around standing up in the back of trucks that move up and down the main street. This is not Kansas; I am in Mexico. I make my way down to the square. It’s empty. No carts, no vendors, no informacion clerks who station themselves by the dock where the ferry lands. They draw in unsuspecting tourists who are seeking directions and try to sell them overpriced island adventures—glass bottom boat rides, snorkeling trips, and parasailing—looking very official in their white collared shirts and uniformed pants. Last night, the square was full and music was playing and elders were dancing and los ninos were alternating between kickball and some strange game that involved holding hands and forming a circle and singing songs and chasing each other. The game distracted me from the mosquitos that were apparently eating me alive. I’m having a wonderful time here, but between the burns and the bites and my shallow, forced breaths, I’m ready to go home. There are no mosquitos in LA, I can ask girlfriends to rub crema on my back, and the smog blows over the Santa Monica mountains into the Valley, perpetuating my illusion of fresh air.

The Decemberists, one of my favorite bands, describe LA beautifully:

There is a city by the sea

A gentle company

I don’t suppose you want to

And as it tells its sorry tale

In harrowing detail

Its hollowness will haunt you

Its streets and boulevards

Orphans and oligarchs it hears

A plaintive melody

Truncated symphony

An ocean’s garbled vomit on the shore,

Los Angeles, I’m yours

Oh ladies, pleasant and demure

Sallow-cheeked and sure

I can see your undies

And all the boys you drag about

An empty fallow fount

From Saturdays to Mondays

You hill and valley crowd

Hanging your trousers down at heel

This is the realest thing

As ancient choirs sing

A dozen blushing cherubs wheel above

Los Angeles, my love

Oh what a rush of ripe élan

Languor on divans

Dalliant and dainty

But oh, the smell of burnt cocaine

The dolor and decay

It only makes me cranky

Oh great calamity,

Ditch of iniquity and tears

How I abhor this place

Its sweet and bitter taste

Has left me wretched, retching on all fours

Los Angeles, I’m yours

----

Ah, LA, I both love and loathe you.

A downer? Maybe. But, like all moments, it's merely a moment and this one will pass and other, likely more upbeat one will come. For now, I'm off to do some science that will hopefully influence policy and shift social norms. Once in a while, I find myself asking why, after all, people are happy... at least that's what they say. I answer my own question, immediately, and it involves conducting a version of that cruel experiment--now that you've read this post, are you happy? If the answer is no, or less so than before reading the post, you're like me. Let's fix this problem. Let's get active.