Panspermia

It has recently come to my attention that some astrophysicists, along with other scientific types who concern themselves with the origin of life on earth, are dusting off and re-examining an oldish and formerly outdated theory: that of panspermia, in which it's believed that life on earth has its origins in space. For example, bacteria can be hurled into space by an asteroid crashing into a planet's surface and then some of them go dormant while hurtling through the space vacuum and possibly come to life once more upon reaching a hospitable environment. This is one reason that some people are so excited by evidence of polar ice caps on Mars, because evidence of water suggests bacteria which then could be hurled to Earth, revive (as some bacteria are apparently "immortal", or at least nearly so), and then we progress from there.

This is all remarkably interesting, and ties in well with last week's visit with the parents to the Air and Space Museum on the mall, but before I get to that let me just say how relieved I am that my friend the Monsignor is seemingly more attuned to continental drift than the origin of species, and on that fateful day on Devon Avenue when he saw me addressed in five different languages in the course of just a few hours, chose to call me Pangea and not Panspermia. Because really, it's a much better name. (Although people have taken issue with the name Pangea as well -- for example, Zen Boy, who also had a confusingly pan-ethnic appearance, and who said to me, "Pangea? But she was just a big blob of a continent -- and you're much more shapely." Certainly one of the best, and most erudite, compliments I've ever received, one which would have made me blush, except for the part where I'm so dark-skinned that I don't actually change color.)

I have been trying to get this post up for almost a week now, but have been having a crazily busy time. Hellraiser was in town last Friday through Sunday, and we took a one-day trip to the Delaware Shore on Saturday for a relaxing micro-vacation -- relaxing except for the part where I drove like 6 hours that day, which is really about 3 hours too much. Then J-ka popped by briefly on Sunday afternoon before heading back to NYC,
and after a day's rest (which was actually spent working and cleaning), my parents rolled into town on Tuesday for my birthday celebration and, perhaps more importantly, to pick up many, many boxes, bags and suitcases of my stuff and bring it back to New York to be stored in their garage for the coming year. (Not only is this parental stuff storage a bit infantilizing, in that I have this idea that in order to be truly adult I need to live in a place large enough to actually accommodate all of my things at once, but it's also kind of guilt-inducing, in that some of these things have been living in their garage for years and only just returned to my clutches upon my return to the East Coast last year.) In honor of their visit, and also because I was feeling a bit self-indulgent, I took the day off work and we bopped around town -- first to brunch around the corner, then to the arboretum, as we're all plant lovers, then to the aforementioned Air and Space museum, and finally to happy hour and then Ethiopian food with a bunch of friends. It was really a lovely day, enhanced by the arrival (finally!!!!) of my official offer letter from SoCal U on Tuesday evening, the best birthday present a girl could ask for (mostly), which enabled me to be a lot calmer than before, secure in the awareness that my escape from my current job unpleasantness will really happen, and that my complex logistical plans could finally be set in motion. For example, since Thursday I have: researched and purchased plane tickets for me and the folks and the piglets, all of whom will be arriving on the left coast on August 31 -- meaning that this page will have a new name as of September 1; purchased 4 items of luggage and packed 6 for distribution to various storage sites (some in NY, some in LA); created a 3-page to-do list and detailed timeline for the next month; found a potential subletter, also a tongueologist and seemingly trustworthy; and about 8 other things. Not to mention the daily 21-mile roundtrip bike to work in 90-degree heat -- last night I simply couldn't get off the couch and thought to myself, "but why?" and then started listing reasons and decided it was perfectly comprehensible.

In any case, before all this nonsense was set in motion, I spent Wednesday feeling calm and surrounded by interesting input, much of which was attractive and attractively displayed flora (with a hint of fauna thrown in for good measure). Some of the plants in the arboretum appeared to have neon lights illuminating their edges (very 80s),
while others were unabashedly pink (especially for a tree, trees not being prototypically pink, at least in my world),
and the papyrus made me want to sit down with a scroll and draw pictures of cat-headed gods with big gold earrings and tiny skirts (kind of Long Island, now that I think about it).
Some of the canna lillies had interesting variegated leaves,
leaves that are apparently quite tasty to some kind of very neat hole-boring insect
who apparently couldn't care less about the also-attractively-variegated leaves just to the right.
Mom and Dad wanted to visit the bonsai exhibit, which I've already seen quite enough of -- for some reason, even though I'm down with plants, and with trees, and am interested in human manipulations of nature in order to create art, I find bonsai, well, boring. Go figure. So while they oohed and aahed over tiny misshapen junipers and cedars, I found myself looking skyward, at cool rooftops,
and rusting support hardware,
and a bit lower, at carved railing ends.
It was mostly quiet in the arboretum (thank god, since the last time I visited all I could hear was the scream of a chainsaw as it hacked down trees near the entrance and the whine of the woodchipper as it disposed of said trees, and possibly maybe also some overly lazy employees?), but there was some action to be seen, like with big butterflies,
and carniverous plants (although I checked inside each one and found no semi-digested insects or anything),
and adjacent to the above carniverous plants, and therefore living on the edge, our nation's carp, looking a bit less frightening than the last time I saw them.
Also somewhat frightening were these arum, which not only looked like they had arrived from outer space (so perhaps it is not just bacterial "seeds" that are everywhere in panspermia), but also are apparently extremely toxic, despite their resemblance to mutant corn.
The Air and Space museum was far less photogenic, although incredibly interesting because of my father's presence -- his decades of work as an aerospace engineer allowed him to tell all kinds of cool stories and give great background information on objects that otherwise would have been of maybe vague historical interest at best. (E.g., they have a lunar landing module in the museum, which was of interest to me and Mom because my due date was the day that we landed on the moon, except that I wasn't quite ready to come out and watch tv with everyone else, but Dad knew about the materials involved, issues with space radiation, rocket boosters and calculations, etc. etc.) He could identify a Lockheed F104 star fighter from the bottom of a steep escalator! And give brief and even comprehensible lessons in lift, drag, propulsion, and more while using Amelia Earhart's plane as a model. Meanwhile, in the midst of all the learning, I found myself entranced by this modest exhibit of Russian space toilets,
and almost compulsively translating everything for the parents. "So this means the valve is open, and this means it's shut; and that means 'entry' but this means 'exit' and I suppose this could really only work with men and..." Finally, a place where my expertise could be applied! What better outlet for birthday self-aggrandizement?!