Sleepy badger

Look at him, he's probably dreaming about mauling prairie dogs.

Sleep well, my ill-tempered friend.

Seen a while ago at the NEW Zoo, near Green Bay, Wisconsin.

Terrible ideas

I'm looking for an artist to flesh out my concept for a children's show. It's a carnivorous South American catfish with a never-say-die attitude: The Can-Do Candirú!

Likewise, I want to write and illustrate a children's book on animal tracks and signs. It will be called Which Species Made These Feces?

I have a business plan for a drive-thru restaurant for vultures: The Carrion Carry-Out.

I want to print bumper stickers with this slogan: Fortune Favors The Bold, But Inertia Favors The Lazy.

Bears and minivans: a love story

Bears love minivans. I stumbled across a recent (2009) paper in the Journal of Mammalogy which demonstrates this scientific fact:

ABSTRACT: Black bears (Ursus americanus) forage selectively in natural environments. To determine if bears also forage selectively for anthropogenic resources we analyzed data on vehicles broken into by bears from Yosemite National Park, California. We classified vehicles into 9 categories based on their make and model and collected data on use (2001–2007) and availability (2004–2005). From 2001 to 2007 bears broke into 908 vehicles at the following rates: minivan (26.0%), sport–utility vehicle (22.5%), small car (17.1%), sedan (13.7%), truck (11.9%), van (4.2%), sports car (1.7%), coupe (1.7%), and station wagon (1.4%). Only use of minivans (29%) during 2004–2005 was significantly higher than expected (7%). We discuss several competing hypotheses about why bears selected minivans.

Basically, the authors looked at the National Park Service database of bear vehicle break-ins in Yosemite Valley from 2001 to 2007 and broke down the data by the bruins' choice of vehicle type for each nocturnal breaking-and-entering session. Even though minivans represented only 7% of the vehicles parked overnight in Yosemite Valley, an astounding 28% of all ursine vehicular incursions were directed against minivans.

Read the article for yourself (not sure how long this link will persist.)

Why do bears love minivans so much? Is it the comfortable bucket seats, the generous cargo area, the convenient sliding doors, the "not great but really pretty ok for a big car" gas mileage? It is well known that bears enjoy all things automotive: outside Denver, a bear broke into a car, put it in gear, and crashed it into a tree. The car was a total loss. Back to minivans, though, it turns out that the convenient sliding doors and adjustable seats are part of the allure. One of the authors was quoted in a San Francisco Chronicle article on the study as saying that bears pry open the doors, tear out back seats, and pop open windows (rear side windows are apparently their favorite entry route) in their quest for people food stashed in minivans. Do the bruins favor vehicles with Stow-N-Go seating for easy removal of back seats? The results are unclear, but my thought experiments strongly indicates the answer may be yes.

In the end, the answer comes down to children. Not that the children are themselves food for the bears (really, only witches regularly consume children, though the occasional ghoul will take a child in opportunistic feeding situations), but insofar as minivans are likely to be used to transport children, who grind Goldfish dust soaked with Capri Sun into the upholstery. No matter how fastidious the grown-ups are about not leaving food in the van, the atomized food particles in the seats are sufficiently odorous to compel a passing bear to break and enter in hopes of scoring a pawful of Cheerios and a Sunny D chaser.

Sounds like folks across the Pacific are no better off. According to several reports, bear attacks are on the rise in Japan. Are Japanese bears smaller and more efficient maulers? That's unclear, but the Land of the Rising Sun has a storied history of bear attacks. The man-eater was probably just frustrated because minivans wouldn't be invented for another 70 years or so.

Reference:

Stewart W. Breck, Nathan Lance, and Victoria Seher. (2009). "Selective foraging for anthropogenic resources by black bears: Minivans in Yosemite National Park". Journal of Mammalogy 90(5):1041–1044.

Clean for half a decade

Ladies and gentlemen, I have been clean for half a decade. I haven't had a Mountain Dew since October 30, 2005. I miss it every day. I have dreams about the golden nectar of sugar and caffeine. Having an addiction means being an addict for the rest of your days.

Picture stolen from Wikipedia

You see, Mountain Dew, it's not you - it's me. You got me through high school and college, and even into my first years of work. I remember driving to and from Arkansas to go fishing with my co-workers - for many hours in the car, you and beef jerky as my only companions. Remember that ridiculous rental car? Good times. When I went to the two-week bridge inspection training class, you were with me. One 20-ounce bottle at the beginning of class in the morning, and another one to ward off the post-lunch food coma. I'll never forget that, but you have to see that things are different now. I'm pretty sure that while I was working on my mechatronics project in college, I easily drank six Dews in a 24-hour period several days in a row. More than once, I had a bottle of Code Red Mountain Dew and a cold Pop-Tart for dinner on the way to the mechatronics lab. Same with my computer engineering senior capstone - especially since the vending machines in the main engineering building dispensed both original and Code Red in one-liter bottles. These are all treasured memories, but you and I have drifted apart, Mountain Dew. You have too much sugar, and your acids attack the enamel in my teeth. I wish I could say, "let's still be friends," but we both know it can never be. I wish you would tickle my innards again, but we'd only be kidding ourselves. Go on, Mountain Dew - don't wait for me. I really have a lot of "me" work to do. You're great. Really. Go find a nice teenager who will treat you right. You deserve it.

Habemus Papum

My cousin Nancy has two sons. The older boy, Owen, attends a preschool hosted by the local Roman Catholic parish, where portraits of popes past and present are found on the wall. The younger boy, Joel, often accompanies Nancy on her trip to take Owen to school. As he toddles by each Successor to Peter, Joel likes to ask, "Who dat?" I like to imagine that the conversation goes something like this:

Joel:	Who dat?
Nancy:	That's John XXIII, dear. He was expected to be an insignificant stop-gap pope, but instead called the Second Vatican Council, which had far-reaching consequences felt yet today.
Joel:	Who dat?
Nancy:	Honey, that's Gregory XIII. He is best known for establishing the modern calendar in response to the increasing difference between the Julian calendar and the solar year, but also he founded many universities and supported the arts.
Joel:	Who dat?
Nancy:	My dear boy, that is Pius XI, remembered for his anti-Nazi encyclical Mit brennender Sorge, written in German, rather than the usual church Latin.
Joel:	Who dat?
Nancy:	My beloved son, that is Leo XIII. His encyclical Rerum Novarum was the first papal document addressing the conditions of the working class; it attacked both communism and unrestrained capitalism while affirming the right to private property.
Joel:	Who dat?
Nancy:	That's the water fountain, Joely. Your father's relatives in Wisconsin would call it a "bubbler."

So delighted is Joel with papal regalia that Nancy instituted a "Pontiff-fy My Son" contest on her blog. I had to give it a shot - if not because Lisa and I are the godparents of this would-be Bishop of Rome, then for the can of Old Bay seasoning promised to the winner.

My entry didn't win - it was bested by some very gifted Photoshop artists - but I stand by it:

Take heed, Pope Joel I: sic transit gloria mundi.