gustatory input substantially contributes to the preferential ingestion of beer

Bugs and Bass Ale

One year ago, I visited the NSF website on a very regular basis. I was in the midst of a glorious sabbatical (probably a redundancy) during which time I submitted two research proposals. Today I was on that site to update a budget for somebody's project they are resubmitting and for which I would be the evaluator if things work as planned. One interesting thing was that I had forgotten my password but could recall my NSF ID number – a nine digit sequence that my fingers remembered even though I could not have listed those numbers out loud. While navigating the NSF site, my eyes were drawn to a press release that included the word "beer." Neuroscientists at University of California-Riverside have been hard at work.

Apparently fruit flies are attracted to beer and the researchers wanted to know more. More than describing that Drosophila like beer, the scientists wanted to uncover a causal model that explained how the bugs were drawn to the beer. The flies were hungry and thirsty so they had been primed to go after something. Using Bass Ale as one temptation and yeast solution, rotting grapes, or smashed bananas as alternate choices, various strains of fruit flies were allowed to choose between the drinking options and regular sugar water. Some fruit flies had a certain gene removed from their DNA, a gene that would otherwise allow them to detect glycerol. In this diagram, the white boxes represent the strain of files with the Gr64e sequence missing from their bodies. Because they lacked that gene, their attraction to beer was much reduced compared to "normal" wild fruit flies. The quoted line that forms the title of this entry translates to: "flies with taste will drink beer." Not only is this an important discovery, it was sufficiently noteworthy to appear in Nature.

What'll you have, Bugsy?

I, for one, have no problems with paying a research team to do this work. Their article provided answers to some of my question such as "how did they know which liquid the flies ingested?" Turns out the flies were presented with beer dyed one color and another liquid containing another color. That sounds smart and resourceful to me. But I felt bad for the treatment of the satiated flies: "Starved flies were placed in the Petri dishes in a humidified box at 25°C for 2 h, after which they were frozen and scored for abdomen coloration." That's right: starved, allowed to feed, then captured, frozen and torn open to see what was in their guts! Gratefully, no images of this procedure were included in the report. What was also fascinating to me was that the researchers provided the DNA sequence for flies that could taste beer* as well as those variants who could not. All in all, a pretty nice linkage between DNA and behaviors. I wonder what sorts of petty machinations the researchers had to go through to buy beer. Why an Irish important rather than something more local -- even though Sierra Nevada brewing is a nine hour roadtrip away? Especially since NSF funded projects are required to use domestic air carriers for international trips (say, a conference trip to Belgium in 2013), it seems logical that domestic beers would be preferred instead of imports. Apparently the logic fails in this situation.

All of this got me thinking. What other research has been done with insects and beers? The tragic news is that drinking beer can make one more susceptible to mosquito bites. In the geography, that could result in malaria:

Body odours of volunteers who consumed beer increased mosquito activation (proportion of mosquitoes engaging in take-off and up-wind flight) and orientation (proportion of mosquitoes flying towards volunteers' odours). The level of exhaled carbon dioxide and body temperature had no effect on human attractiveness to mosquitoes. Despite individual volunteer variation, beer consumption consistently increased attractiveness to mosquitoes. These results suggest that beer consumption is a risk factor for malaria and needs to be integrated into public health policies for the design of control measures

The moral:

1. It is NOT impossible to receive federal funds to do beer research.
2. Beings who drink beer prefer its taste over other spoiled liquids.
3. If you are going to drink beer in malaria country, be sure to get your shots. Or maybe do shots instead of drinking beer.

* In case you are curious, Gr64a (5’-GGCGTTAAGCAGGTGGAGAG and 5’-CCAGATTCGAACAACTGCTGG),

jumping from a plane

Next Friday, I am scheduled to pitch a daring and innovative idea to administrators in my building. The particulars are less important right now than the process. What looms is not my capacity to articulate an ambitious vision. Rather, the challenge is to make the endeavor worthy even when the exact path is somewhat murky. In short, I am confronting a systemic attitude the infects everything related to education in this state. The editorial page of the capital newspaper phrased the condition this way: "Connecticut is genetically programmed to resist change, even when change is called for." While the paper was referencing a group of school superintendents who have some ideas for rethinking the purposes of K-12 education whereas I am proposing a new process for preparing future science and math teachers, the giant block that has to be tipped, toppled or eroded is uncertainty. What I need to decide is how much emphasis to put on the possibilities versus doing all that I can to convince others that there is essentially no risk.

As I think about the right strategy for this situation, I remind myself how glorious my life has been over the past several years because I have not been obliged to think along these lines. Today I am especially proud that my asymmetric compadre, who has helped co-father many a wild adventure, was the recipient of a prestigious award at his appropriately appreciative university. As I would expect, he prepared an unconventional presentation that ranged far and wide – not for the sake of being unconventional but because that is the only way to accomplish an authentic representation of his work and aspirations. There might be risks in announcing the possibility of applying money to buy beer. And as I hear the polite chuckles in my head, I want to explain that he's serious with the only question being whether I will be a peripheral participant in his purchases. Standing in front of a sizable crowd (I envision SRO with even the wait staff pausing to consider the wisdom and cherish the humor) to give a talk has the equivalent risk for some people as jumping out of an airplane is to others. There is an illogical aspect to both because neither is especially necessary. However, neither adventure – using newly discovered presentation software or leaping with others out of a perfectly viable aircraft – is stupid. Daring? Yes. However, I would like to emphasize how the two leaps are comparable.

Here is a photograph taken by one skydiver as a Chevy exited the back of an aircraft. We can see two other parachutists that are following the red vehicle having paused after pushing the car into freefall. At a very basic level, this is a clever publicity stunt and the resulting commercial will be sufficient to propel consumers to the local Chevrolet showroom. Personally, I am less puzzled why someone would go to this much trouble to film a commercial and am much more confused about how this scene makes one think it's a good reason to take out an auto loan. Which is all to say that I enjoyed finding out what the skydivers and videographers were thinking as they prepared for their task:

You look at the situation and you say, "Okay, this is what can go wrong." Basically, you step back from it and look at all the variables. "Okay, what am I going to do to minimize risks?"

With the falling Chevy, I would think minimizing risks would translate into making sure the parachutes were extra big to ensure gentle landings. With the presentation, wearing a reliable (I almost typed "depend-able") pair of trousers is a brilliant strategy for minimizing risks and reducing the scope of things that could go wrong. In brief (!) a wise person anticipates problems and makes adjustments to bring the uncertainties down to an acceptable level: lots of preparation and a great deal of thinking, rehearsing, double-checking and more thinking. There remains the understood uncertainties that will reveal themselves and that's all part of the preparations. Ultimately, those efforts occupy a considerable factor of time greater than the duration of the actual event:

You're putting things together as best you can — and then it all boils down to that one minute.

Too often, I fail to remain fully cognizant of the culmination of the experience when I'm in the midst of it. Perhaps this is reasonable given all the hours I've rehearsed possible response to the various scenarios. When the magical time arrives, I have to jolt myself to realize that this is IT -- and I need to soak it and do my best to etch it into my mind. With that comes the need to enjoy the outcome of the accumulation of plans and preparations. There are more opportunities in the future to make more plans. But the instant when the plans are put into motion have almost escape my noticing:

It's just about being in the moment. And this is where I want to be.

I am depending on the guest speaker today to have found moments he can freeze in his mind enough to hold onto forever, or just long enough to pass along to me. Maybe a caring partner or public relations cub reporter will capture the event with a snapshot. As for myself and next Friday's sales attempt, with the possibility that this will serve as the seed crystal for another amazing adventure, I need to remind myself to be in the moment and appreciate that it is just where I want to be. It isn't just the outcome, but it's the free fall of almost uncontrolled tumbling that can be equally important. Whereas the descending automobile had many videographers along for the ride, I don't know that I should expect such in the Dean's office. Maybe I'll stick my digital camera in my pocket just in case. Or maybe I can find ways to be entirely engaged in what happens without also losing myself. What fascinates me about this video is that I was completely unconcerned about how the landing turned out. Instead, I was transfixed by the journey. I trust today's talk has a similar feel: the leap, the rush, the sense of accomplishment.

SONIC from Drea Cooper on Vimeo.

 

processes of becoming

The embarrassingly trivial tenure and promotion guidelines used within our school are finally being revised. In the past, the categories were simplistic and vague. If there was a benefit to this (writing as a faculty member) those ambiguities were not used to evil effect. But they could have been. This Wednesday, all 27 pages of the newly drafted guidelines were placed before members of our department for discussion. To paraphrase Taylor Mali, it was the best time we’d spent together since Christmas. The conversation was honest, respectful and varied. The document served as an object to direct our comments. What then ricocheted around the room was quite revealing.

For one, the energy of the conversation demonstrated the substantial need many had in voicing their notions about “the academy” and what it stands for. That many spoke, novice and veteran, was an indication that several are struggling with these notions. This was a rare opportunity to be heard. What was intriguing was how an otherwise mundane department meeting "degenerated" into such a revealing and useful conversation. Beyond its rarity, it is not the first time where a dull document opened doors to deliberations that were not anticipated but ended up revealing a great deal. I don’t typically view my department as rich in quick thinkers even though they are warm and nurturing teachers and advisors. Nevertheless, and I don’t want to be misunderstood as labeling my peers as dull, the discussion brought to mind this excerpt from John Dewey’s How We Think:

As the metaphor of dull and bright implies, some minds are impervious, or else they absorb passively. Everything presented is lost in a drab monotony that gives nothing back. But others reflect, or give back in varied lights, all that strikes upon them. The dull make no response; the bright flash back the fact with a changed quality. An inert or stupid mind requires a heavy jolt or an intense shock to move it to suggestion; the bright mind is quick, is alert to react with interpretation and suggestion of consequences to follow.

In trying to lighten the load in my file drawers at home, the previous weekend I disposed of the just-found personal statement I submitted when I went up for associate professor almost fifteen years ago. My recollection was similar to what I read before the document went into the bin. Then I made the case that my research was not necessarily all along the same path but still showed some purposefulness even though others could misconstrue it as wandering. At the recent department meeting, I found myself taking exception to a young scholar who was advocating that a quality tenure dossier ought to show a clear research trajectory. I don’t fault his perspective because that was his training and he has done a very admirable job following that path. While it worked well for him, and I have been a clear beneficiary of his scholarship as has the field, I was reluctant to endorse that as THE sign of being worthy of associate status.

Just as students in an undergraduate non-majors physics class can be seen as in the process of becoming, I have been wondering about newbies to the academy. How can we describe what is expected at the outset from those who will pursue promotion six or so years into the future? Beyond the end products, what ought to take place along the way — what do we expect or hope for among this who plan to become tenured faculty in an education department? The corollary is to exit those who choose not to use the academy as we feel they should. Added to this, what are the various ways we might allow people to become, including those who are not living in the same world or coming to the work along the same path as me? Whether a person is referencing their students as they work quizzes about muon travels or considering how to specify what it means to become a professional academician (or educator) it seems that having high ambitions combined with considerations of differences is both a challenging and a refreshing way to contemplate the growth of others.

taken for granted

New England has suffered a plague of bad weather. Even though Hurricane Irene was demoted to a tropical storm before it struck in August, it inflicted impressive damage to trees and electric lines. Those in the countryside might be thought to be self-sufficient: well water, septic systems, wood stoves, vegetable gardens, and so on. In contrast, those of us residing in towns are subject to the vagaries of the water, trash, and sewer utilities. Much of the distinction between the city mouse and country mouse vanishes when electric service is disrupted. My friends in the woods don’t have water when the pumps’ electricity is caught off. Fans and motors that move heat, air and so on are also rendered useless. The latest snowstorm came through four days ago and the accompanying map shows how widespread the damage has been as measured by power outages. Without electricity, each and everyone of us feels the pinch of a primitive existence.

When the electricity cut off at our house, these realities came home. The clever wall mounted devices that turn a room from dark to brightness were suddenly nothing more than heavy duty plastic clickers. As late afternoon transitioned to evening, the house was quiet. The laundry was certainly less agitated as it took its time soaking. The hum of the computers’ fans went silent. We watched the pinkish sky filter through the trees which were in turn showing off their golden foliage. But with the dimming light came concerns about the increasing chill. Heavy winter blankets and quilts were pulled from closets. A new high efficiency gas furnace is nothing without electricity to give juice to its control panels. While the water was still flowing and before the nearby water tower drained, I stocked our home with water. Once again, I counted my blessings to be a home brewer.

Unlike the August storm, heat and hot water were a priority. In my all-grain brewing package was a wonderful insulating pouch that has proven its ability to keep 6 gallons of water quite hot for many hours. So one brew bucket was filled with piping hot tap water with the knowledge that hot top water would be at a premium in just a few hours. This was supplemented by three, six-gallon containers of non-heated water for other sanitary uses. Next was the concern about lights. In addition to candles, I found my camping headlamp and a crank radio that gives some light, too. The gas stove wouldn’t light on its own but a handy grill lighter allowed my partner to boil water for spaghetti and heat a jar of sauce. No meatballs alas because we had to keep the refrigerator and freezer sealed against thawing over the coming days.

Others who lost power several days before ours gave way have been at work. It allows them to access the web, use a shower, and sit in a chair without wearing coat, gloves and hat. None have actually spent the night in their office as far as I know but who could fault anyone for contemplating such a thing. After all, going to work is in some ways a blessed convenience, even for simple things has having a toilet seat to rest on that isn’t icy cold. And having considerable light at one’s command is another glorious phenomenon along with on demand music, beverages heated to near boiling in a couple of minutes, and ambient warmth. This is all to say that I realized just how much I was taking all of this (and more!) for granted. For those 65 minutes between when the electricity left and when it returned, I renewed my admiration for the miracle of modern conveniences.

Dear Subscriber,

Many thanks for taking the important step: you have chosen to receive email alerts each time a new blog entry is published. As you may be aware, our productivity has been a little irregular as of late. At this moment, it appears nearly two and half months have passed since the previous posting. While some might suffer guilt for not writing over the time frame, our production team is pleased to report progress on other fronts during that time. These include:

• Our sources indicate that over this brief timespan, nearly 15,728,924 new human souls have been added to the planetwide tally. While we are not about to take credit (nor blame) for this increase, this is a trivial piece of information. Whether 15.7 million births is an outside limit for time between blog entries is an open question. There is the assumption that this escalating rate at which people hump and squirt babies out of their private parts will only increase in frequency. Frankly, we don’t have the energy to do the math so if this intrigues you, have at it.

• The second edition of our textbook has just been released. Our company sent us a half dozen examination copies and we have received a report from Chicago that a colleague’s bookstore has assured her there will be a supply available for her students in early 2012. Interestingly, one can order a used copy for 20¢ less than the listed price for a new copy. I wonder if used versions will extend their price difference by an additional 10¢ per day as time marches on. Quite amazingly, a request posted this summer asked us to send a free instructor copy to an adjunct instructor – with the plea to also autograph the book. Audacious!

• Two highly botched graduate level education courses have been unraveling. The first is loosely based on the material embedded in the above-mentioned text. But with a ragged start (i.e., just one class meeting in September) we have yet to establish any momentum. Five students were missing this past week because of food poisoning, feeling ill, traveling back from ROTC training, another stranded by the snowstorm – and the fifth for reasons that are still unknown. The other course is a weekly seminar associated with student teaching. There is a hodge-podge of reading materials (including an educational graphic novel) and a loosely structured set of requirements: open-ended reflections and lesson plan outlines. The reason this week’s class will not go badly is because that regional campus has now been closed for the remainder of this week due to power problems and downed trees.

It is feasible that few of these things would have been accomplished has there been more attention given to this blog. If we are able to kick-start the writing machine, it may well be that fewer books will be written, fewer children will be born, and a smaller fraction of graduates will sustain class meetings where the professor is so distracted that they aren’t sure he knows where he is. Time will tell. If this all sounds interesting, then the subscription service will suit you well. If you want to unsubscribe, you’ll have to figure that out on your own.