Over a Half Can of Pepsi

"Hi Grandpa, how was your day?" All 6'4" of the cowboy who had once laid railroad and conquered the west is now saddled in a brown rocking chair. One arthritic hand covered with leathered age spots rubs a head rimmed in only the thinnest silver. Regardless of being a tomboy, I kiss him on the shiny spot and pull up a chair next to him. But, before I can sit, he points to a small blue cup on Grandma's old basin sink.

"Not too bad," he says while clinking his teeth back into place. I detour to the fridge and he smiles. He doesn't bother getting up because it's long since been an easy task, but patiently waits for me to pour him half a can of Pepsi.

I don't know precisely when it became a family institution, but I'm sure it started with the man in the chair. He never drank a full can, only half. And if there wasn't someone to share it with, the can was covered and placed back in the fridge. It made a limp refreshment later on, but nothing was ever wasted at Grandma's and Grandpa's house; and it was best that all understood that early on.

"Is Grandma out in the garden?" I ask.

Grandpa sips his Pepsi like a shot of something strong from an old saloon, although to my knowledge he was never a drinking man. "No, she's over at the Beiling's trying to swap some apples for cherries."

"Is she going to can them or make some jelly?"

He shakes his head no, "With the late frost this year I don't imagine there will be enough for either."

Rubbing my hands together like a mischievous kid, my face splits into a grin, "Then it's either a pie or fresh nibbling."

Grandpa grins back at me, then sips his soda. Suddenly, he gets a faraway look and says, "You never know how good a cherry pie is unless..."

This is what I was waiting for, "Unless, Grandpa?"

Full blue eyes come back to me and he says, "How about a ride?"

I leap up, "I'll go get the truck!" Abandoning my half can of Pepsi, I run out of the room.

Grandpa's truck is white with a red cab interior. The letters on the tailgate have long since faded and become unreadable; but, anyone knows a Ford when they see one. Climbing inside, I'm struck by the smell of dust and hot vinyl. A smell that would for years to come bring immediate nostalgia. I pump the gas and turn the ignition. With a deep grumble, the trusted Ford comes to life and, with all the experience of two full months with a driver's license, I back down the dirt driveway, narrowly avoiding one of Grandma's prize rosebushes.

On the porch Grandpa waits with his cane and burnt Stetson hat. Very slowly he ambles his way around to the driver's side door, while I slide over to make room. As he moves I'm reminded of what they say about old drivers. Perhaps, it is not entirely safe letting Grandpa drive, but no one ever recommends otherwise. "Creak!" the door opens and he hands me his cane while gently sitting down and shutting the door with a firm hand. Holding the wheel like soft leather reins, he maneuvers us back into the semi-circular drive and then forward onto the road.

One can sometimes guess where Grandpa is taking them by whether he turns left or right. The mystery is revealed a bit at that moment. Today he's turning left - we're heading to the reservoir.

The reservoir is located up the mountain on a dangerously curvy road. It was one of the main wonders that turned this little piece of desert into a habitable place. The other was the mountain itself that wrapped cool arms around three sides of the town, protecting it from a quarter of the day's heat. After passing the dam, the trees start to fill in the occasional bush making it an honest oasis. Memories fill my mind of countless fishing trips, learning to swim, touching a deer, ... so many memories over sixteen years of summers.

Now, one might expect Grandpa to share some story about how the Wild West was won as the truck rambled along kicking up dust - along with some sage advice that would give one's life meaning in the end. But that is not how my Grandpa works and it took me awhile to understand that. Grandpa is not a man of much conversation. He came from a world where men of "action" were not supper hyped up men full of adrenaline and speed, like the ones in movies with an eloquent last line; but rather, those who communicated by their actions and their choices in life. For example, I knew Grandpa loved me because he made the effort to spend time with me. And now, with the cowboy being so much slower, each of his individual actions have become much more valuable because each one held the weight of many unsaid words.

Pulling off the road and down a slight embankment, Grandpa parks the Ford under a tree by the water. Enthused, I jump out and make my way bounding over to the fallen log only to stop short. There, wiggling under the back end of the log, is a wild skunk. Having heard my haphazard approach, he gives one more frantic pull and frees himself from his latest hiding place. Immediately, he hisses at me - stumbles a bit sideways - then closer towards me. Although he seemed injured, his movement wasn't impaired enough to stop his impending attack.

Long ago Grandpa went over what I was to do when encountering a wild animal. It was unbelievably hard calming my racing heart in order to stand perfectly still while preparing for flight at the same time. However, the problem at the moment was that I couldn't breath deeply enough to calm my adrenaline infused heart. I couldn't get enough air into my lungs to call for help either. So, I stand there watching the little black eyes focus on me with accusation for all his pain. I know instantly that he was going to attack me with those incredible teeth and claws - and that I couldn't do anything about it.

Some people say that a lot of thoughts run through one's mind in an impending crisis or that their mind goes blank. As for me, I just looked for Grandpa.

Looking over my shoulder, I see him just in time as he pulls up his rifle one last inch and fires. Smoke comes off the gun, and with Grandpa's hat lowered over his eyes, I can see for a moment back into time at the man that he once was.

Only the smallest sound comes from the skunk. The shot is clean and the animal is no longer in pain. As for me, I'm a speechless statue. Grandpa sits me down and takes care of the skunk. When he comes back we don't say much as we watch fish touch the top of the water sending circles repeating across the reservoir. Holding my young, clear, new hand in his old, well-used one, I think on what it means to be old, young, and a ripple off of Grandpa. I ponder what my own actions communicate to others about me; and I think on how long it will take for me to drive as well as Grandpa.

After twilight, we drive up to the porch. Very slowly Grandpa climbs out and makes his way into the house with a shuffling step. Much slower than him, I park the truck under his work shed's carport. I don't even make it to the back screen door before the smell of fresh baked cherry pie reaches out to me. My stomach responds with a fresh growl of hunger, while I pick up the pace and cut towards the kitchen.

"You left your drink on the table, Heather." I come to a halt by the doorway.

"Yes, Grandma. I'm sorry." Hoping this wasn't a prelude to missing out on the pie, I jump in with, "I'll wash the dishes."

My tiny five-foot tall Grandma gives me the Eye of scrutiny and consideration only to break it off when Grandpa points to his empty blue cup. She smiles at him and relents. "It's in the fridge. Don't do it again. Now, how about some whipped-cream on your pie?"

"Yes, please." At the fridge I down my limp soda with a smack and pull out a fresh can. Taking Grandpa's blue cup and Grandma's pink cup off the basin, I split the can between them.
The pie melts the whip-cream, making white drizzles down the sides. Mmmmmmmm. Grandpa's right. You never know how good a piece of cherry pie is - almost as good as a half can of Pepsi.

Grandma Was Right

(About sex and other things)

“Don’t have sex before marriage,” was Grandma’s advice over the birds and the bees. In a society that no longer relied on horses to commute, that among the many “outdated” items or pieces of advice were considered expired. However, the study of physiology has made me reflect back on what was considered wise for thousands of years before. I’m not going to go to focus on why modern societies do what they do; but rather on why Grandma was right.

In nature, flora and fauna alike have chemical reactions associated with the preservation of their species. You could even say that the reproduction and/or survival are the reason for ALL physiological responses to their environment. Hormones released during sex are more than just a “feel good”. They model “love” and “infatuation” in the brain and are linked to the visual and physical person associated with the release of those sex hormones. In species where the offspring are helpless for long periods of time, both the male and female are chemically induced so that they will be connected to each other for the task of raising/preserving the offspring. The human child is helpless much longer than most species and requires a greater demand on its parents. As such, the hormones released during sex are to connect/commit both parents to the potential long term development of the young.

This may seem general but on a personal level I noticed this. During a stressful time of my life I started having a sexual relationship with someone I wasn’t interested on the premise that it was “healthy” and would help relieve some of the pressure I was feeling. However, immediately afterwards I started having more “affectionate” thoughts and feelings for the man - which lead to more sex - which lead to my believing that I was in love with him. Remember, this was someone that beforehand I considered not suitable for me on many levels and I had no feelings for him whatsoever. Basically, I had drugged myself through sex hormones into believing I was in love; and because of that, I was willing to ignore the multiple problems in our relationship. Unfortunately, I’m not alone on this either. After conducting a poll which questioned if others had the experience of feeling “love” and “infatuation” after sex, 100% of the individuals said, “yes.” Now I believe there are exceptions to this and other contributing factors, but it is safe to say that physiology and sex hormones are a contributor to the “love” feeling.

This hormone drugged feeling is not exclusive to couples either. Imagine that someone is having sex with themselves while watching pornography or looking at pictures. They are still having the chemical response to connect them for the preservation of potential offspring, yet there is no other person or offspring. Basically, they are drugging themselves into “loving” pornography. An obvious problem to this physiological response is that the other person is not actually there; therefore, there is no complimentary response to the relationship. Often this has lead to frustration and/or dissatisfaction. However, the individual is now chemically drugged and will not want to stop, so an alternative is needed. One alternative is an increase in their visual stimulation through another strong chemical reaction in the body that is associated with preservation; namely, pain. It is no small wonder that pornography has branched into what is painful, harmful, or unnatural; and those who masturbate to that imagery are chemically drugging themselves into “loving” those things as well. This generates a sadistic attitude towards partners and/or people in general.

Part of what makes us who we are is our genetics – another part of what makes us who we are is our actions. It is possible that someone could have no genetical disposition to sadism and yet become one. With violence and cruelty on the rise, any contributing factors can be too much. During a “gang” member interview in a nice suburban neighborhood, I was told about the pressure a teen gets to join one affiliation or another. However, in order to join most gangs, a boy had to either kill or rape someone. He concluded that most of them chose rape. It goes without saying how damaging this drugged “love” will be for them and their environments.

At this point I reflect on why there are so many single parents in the world today when the body has such a strong physiological response to sex. The answer is simply another hormone driven reaction associated with preservation. The self preservation chemicals are more intense, have a faster response, and are more utilized. Statistically nearly half of the low income and homeless people in the United States are single parents. The financial demand on individuals and families has increased dramatically in the past fifty years. It once was possible for one employed individual to support a family. As the national production demand on their human resource increased, so did the number of jobs within the general household. In response to capitalistic inflation, a household provider may need to get a second job or the spouse may start working and sometimes the children too. For example, in Seattle it takes four minimum wage earners to cover the rent on a two bedroom apartment. Home of the Java capital, individuals have turned to stimulants in order to do more. Recently, 5-hour, which is a liquid stimulant for focus, had a commercial on TV in the which a woman states how she needed her 5-hour shot every day in order to get through her second job. The body responds in various manners to increased stress, one of which is a “flight” mechanism for self preservation. It is no wonder really that under such financial and physical stresses that one of the adults would take “flight” from the domestic home in search of something better for themselves; even if it’s not better for those left behind.

With such powerful physiological responses to sex and preservation, how can we stop the unintentional destructive force that society has created and suffers under? Maybe we could listen to Grandma and wait to have sex. If indeed having 10 billion nerve cells in our brains has given us superior intellect as a species, then perhaps we should use that in decisions on who we are with and when; build relationships versus sex drugged "love". Also, some of the other "old" traditions could be dusted off and looked at again for their merit, for example, balance in the home and workplace. However, since capitalism only escalates productivity, it would take a unified stand against productivity's consumption of human and natural resources in order to find a new balance between demand and labor. Activism is the key on three levels. Individually, how we live matters. Community, how we care for each other matters. Nationally, how we govern matters. If all else fails, listen to Grandma - she was right.

Longitudinal Analysis of Deciduous Tooth Emergence (V): Effects of Nutrition in Bangladeshi Children

byHeather Rose & Dr. Darryl Holman

Aim
* To better understand the variability of tooth emergence.
* Analyze the effects of nutrition, sanitation, and income covariates for children whose anthroprometrics were measured at two months of age.
* Analyze the effects of famine on tooth emergence on children born shortly before, during, and after the famine.
* Submit/Publish findings in the American Journal of Physical Anthropology.

Sample - Location

The Bangladesh Famine: 1974-1975
* Natural disaster
* War
* Administrative and economic mismanagement
* Inflation
* Inequalities in socioeconomic relations
* Exhausted international bailout aid
* Shortages in the global food supply
* Government downplayed the severity of the crisis
* Culminated into one of the worst famines in history

* Estimated 1 to 1.5 million died


Data Collector

The International Center for Diarrhoeal Research, Bangladesh (ICDDR, B)
* Mission, "Knowledge for global life saving solutions."
* Training including: biostatistics, family planning, demographic survelance, and child survival strategies.
* Research priorities: child health, infectious diseases, vacine sciences, reproductive health, nutrition, population, HIV/AIDS, and safe water.
* http://www.icddrb.org/

Sample - Meheran, Bangladesh
* Dental records were analyzed for 397 children.
* Children were examined monthly for one year and quarterly thereafter.
* Many children were recruited at birth.
* All children were less than one year of age at recruitment.


Method of Analysis

* Analysis was by proportional hazards regression models with a lognormal distribution of tooth emergence for ten teeth.
* Observations are interval-censored or right-censored.
* Two seperate analyses were undertaken:
* Analysis 1: Effects of covariates on tooth eruption in 252 children.
* Analysis 2: Timing of tooth eruption for 397 children born before (Prefamine) during
(Perifamine) and after the famine (Control).

Results

Strong evidence that deciduous tooth emergence is affected by child's health and nutritional environment.
* Overall, famine, sanitation, income, and anthropometric measures at age two months, affected tooth emergence in a way consistent with the idea that poor health and nutrition delays the emergence of deciduous teeth.

* Tooth emergence may be affected by sanitation infrastructure through differences in the cumulative burden of disease (especially diarrheal disease) that a child might experience as teeth develop and migrate through the bone before emergence.

* Income may be acting through energy availability, so that children in poor households experience delays in emergence of their dentition.

* For six of the ten deciduous teeth, larger values of one or more anthropometric measures resulted in younger ages at emergence. The anthropometric measures serve as a proxy for a child’s health, so that these results contradict the idea that tooth emergence is not affected by health.

* Children born just before the famine showed delayed emergence, whereas children born during the famine showed no consistent effects. A plausible interpretation is that fetuses were relatively buffered in utero from the nutritional stresses experienced by their mother during the famine.

Special Thanks

Dr. Darryl Holman, ICDDR,B, and UW Anthropology Honor's Panel