Matter…does it?

Though science was never my strong suit (or study) in school, science fiction (and the astronomy that accompanied the spacey ends of sci-fi) was always of great interest. I even “collect” classic movies from the 50s including The Thing from another world (Matt Dillon of Gunsmoke version), Them (also starring Matt, aka James Arness before the cowboy hat), The Day the Earth Stood Still, The Deadly Mantis, The Giant Claw (cheesiest monster ever screened), and a few others. I even have a DVD wish list with a few more noted in case you ever want to buy me something.

Shifting gears…I remember the scientifically iron-clad, set-in-concrete, hard-and-fast, absolute statement that went something like “Matter can neither be created nor destroyed.” Before I rescind, rethink, and revisit this “absolute” theory…allow me to tie it to the fantasy. I’ve seen time and time again on both big and little screens matter being melted, powdered, atomized, and disintegrated. You may remember the ray that came from the robot’s faceplate in The Day the Earth Stood Still. Gor left a visible, if somewhat shadowy, pile of darkness behind when combating man or his weapons. Captain Kirk and crew, with phasers on full rather than set just to stun, seemed to vaporize what they hit as the opponent or rock turned to a sparkly nothingness. James Arness seemed to become simply a pile of cloth when caught in the mankind-saving arc of electricity near the North Pole. That reminded me of the fantasy (though not quite of the sci-fi genre) The Wizard of Oz which showed pure natural spring water by the bucketful melting a wicked witch into a heap of fabric – fortunately for memorabilia collectors, the broomstick survived (probably floated on the water molecules). Remember also that the lightsabers of Luke and papa Darth seemed to have the same effect on victims (when sliced, all that was left of Ben was his robe – though it is possible that Scotty beamed him “up” just before Vader’s saber cut into him) unlike the blasters which just left oozing holes of death. Some of these imaginary weapons seemed to destroy flesh and bone but not clothing. Other times there was “complete” disintegration. It depended on the script, the director’s whim, and the skill of the special effects guy (sorry for the gender stereotype).

Let us return for a moment, not to those “thrilling days of yesteryear” (apologies to the masked man and his Indian-friend Tonto – before that nomenclature for the latter became politically incorrect), but to the reality of the only time in all creation (pun intended) when the matter theory was violated. Early chapters of Genesis record that God created some things from nothing by merely speaking. Other times He chose to actually work with his hands to manufacture or place items. God spoke and light was (1:3); again He spoke and dry ground appeared (1:9); a third time He verbalized and vegetation and plants were everywhere (1:11).

Then there were the occasions on which the Creator seemed to want to actually “get His hands dirty” by not using full omniscience and omnipotence; rather, he chose to make “two great lights…and set them” in the sky (1:16-17). God’s greatest day’s work was when he “formed” man from dust and dirt (2:7). Then you might remember how he actually “planted” the garden (2:8) to create the Eden paradise for Adam and Eve (first surgical operation – rib transplanted for semi-cloning? Though she no doubt was lots better looking that her husband – 2:21-22).

It all reminds me of a statement from another course of study that I was never too fond of…mathematics. I remember hearing that if A = B then B = A. If we are made in His image and after His likeness, then not only are we like Him, but He is like us. Hmmm…

So, while we, made in God’s image and after His likeness, may wish at times to create something from nothing or by simply stating, “Let there be…” (You complete the wish.) we are limited to taking what He or His created have made available to us…we work from real matter to invent and construct. Only God can totally destroy matter…or create it from nothing.

Losing Weight by the T-O-N

What better place to begin a push to lose the last 10 pounds of a weight loss goal than outdoors. My August resolution has taken me to Maury County Park this week. The aspects of a post-dawn walk are threefold: natural, physical, and cranial.

Mother Nature has supplied the natural with the lush greenery amid the cooler early-morning temperatures and lower humidity as well as the ever-present chance to spot deer and other wildlife. The first morning I saw six of Bambi’s relatives grazing and frolicking in a large meadow near the road. On the second day there were eight. On the way back down those hills I inquired rhetorically if they were the same deer I had seen the previous day. They didn’t say a word. Obviously their mothers taught them well the proper etiquette of not speaking with their mouths full of grass. On the way up this morning I met a man talking loudly on his cell phone with the speaker feature activated. I reasoned that he would have startled all the deer into hiding. Mother Nature had other thoughts. I spotted two deer on the way up. On the return trek I spotted a baby bunny, the two deer I had previously seen, a mother turkey with three youngsters in “tow,” and five or six more deer. It turned into a fantastic walk in the park.

The physical is supplied by the hearty exercise of walking briskly from Kids Kingdom at the bottom of the park road to the Monsanto Shelter at the top. The three-mile roundtrip is a good workout with half of it uphill. It makes for muscle burn when the aim is to cover the uphill stretches at the same vigorous pace as the downhill ones. The Monster, as I affectionately call the steepest grade, is actually within the last mile. Those 175 paces (yes, I’ve counted them – more than once) are as steep a grade as the Beaver Slide the Ice Road Truckers drive on the Dalton Highway in Alaska. Our “city” park truly saves the “best” ‘til last.

Finally, in the peaceful lane that circumvents forest and meadow, interrupted only by the occasional park employee vehicle (park isn’t open for tourist cars until 8 a.m.) or hardworking mowing machine, there is time to ponder. On these initial days my thoughts wandered to healthy living. The main reason I am in the park in the humidity of August is that I want to lose weight. That’s going to take a reliable plan of consistent exercise and healthy eating. The lifestyle change of following Dr. Josh Axe’s Healing Foods Diet for the last two years has enabled me to lose 45 pounds and keep it off. I have also been able to cease taking all medications for Type II Diabetes and high blood pressure. I have strengthened my immune system so that I have been virtually sickness free for the last two flu and cold seasons. But, alas, those last 10 elusive pounds are always the hardest to shed. I needed a revolution…a new means of self-motivation.

On these walks my mind has wandered in two directions. First, I reminisced about my recently completed 28-day, 12,800-mile solo Arctic Ocean Road Trip. By staying preoccupied with the sights and eating mostly from the fresh produce shelves of grocery stores, I was actually able to lose a belt size during those four weeks. That was followed by three weeks of grandkid hopping around the country during which time I reverted back to old habits of eating too much, too often, and too late. I gained it all back with a little extra. No, I didn’t regain the 45 pounds to 250; I just scaled back up to about 210. Losing the first five of that was easy. It’s the pounds from 205 to 195 (current goal weight for this 6’2” frame) that pose the challenge. Someday I want to plummet into the 180s, but that will be with a future weight loss plan.

My college students know I am big on acronyms. The park and an elephant named Horton were the inspiration for my newest motivational weight loss ‘nym. In a line from one of my favorite Dr. Seuss books, Horton Hatches the Egg, I found my inspiration. Horton agrees to oblige lazy Maysie and sit on her egg so she can go workout at Club Med; but first, he must render the tree safe for his body mass. He says in Seuss’s inimitable rhyming style, “Let’s see. The first thing to do is to prop up this tree and make it much stronger. That has to be done before I get on it. I must weigh a ton.” I considered the word “ton.” To lose those final illusive pounds I needed to wrap my brain around T-O-N: Time, Opportunity, and Need. I have the time with few job-related responsibilities at Martin Methodist College between the end of summer classes on July 29 and the start of fall faculty conferences on August 15. Along with time comes opportunity. My bonus room is too comfortable. I knew I had to get outside and start soaking up the sun’s healthy Vitamin D. Maury County Park is within seven minutes of my house, practically deserted, and a marvelous setting for strenuous strolling. As to the need, I want to lose those ten pounds. So off I went to the park to attempt losing weight by the T-O-N; and to talk with the animals (even if they don’t answer back).

BTW (like a “PS” to tech-challenged readers)…The whitetails are quite gracefully elegant in their natural setting. They are certainly prettier than the musk ox, moose, and marmots I had seen on my earlier summer vacation to the far north. My brain makes me realize that it will take two weeks of total consistency with exercise and eating, but I’m ready to tackle the journey with Horton and Bambi to help (Thumper, too). Perhaps I’ll see you in the park OOTD (one of these days).

[Note: this was published in the Healthy Living special section of the Columbia Daily Herald on Wednesday, August, 17 under the title "Losing weight is a walk in the park."]

[Note 2: Only made it part way to my weight-loss goal for the two weeks...but alas, nothing ventured...]

Professor drives the Dalton

Since returning from my 12,800-mile, 28-day Arctic Ocean road trip nearly two months ago, I have frequently reflected on that adventure. The highlight of the trip was undoubtedly driving the Dalton Highway 500 miles from Fairbanks to Deadhorse, Alaska. I relived my journey that began in Columbia on May 12, by viewing reruns of the IRT (Ice Road Truckers) on the History Channel. The series depicts big-rig drivers competing for cash hauling serious loads up the icy Haul Road in the dead of winter. I can attest to the Dalton’s being a major challenge even in spring without the frozen surface. As an Internet travel blog by an earlier “amateur” aptly stated, “Only confirmed masochists bother to run it given the road's mostly unpaved state, lack of services, hyper-aggressive truck drivers, and hordes of monster mosquitoes. You're practically guaranteed a cracked windshield and flat tires. It helps to be a little crazy to drive this road.” My only response is, “Amen!”

Because I was forewarned about the truckers and the rough road surface, I was able to make that thousand-mile round trip without harm to glass or tires. I was too early for the mosquitoes (Alaska’s state bird); and the lack of services was circumvented by frequent fill-ups and the full-sized spare in my trunk (needed a week later on a side trip to Atlin, British Columbia). I also left Fairbanks with adequate snacks, bottled water, fresh fruits, and vegetables. The breakfast buffet at Deadhorse’s Caribou Inn gave me energy for the return trek. I traveled at a very “safe” speed and pulled over whenever a truck approached from either direction.

I had anticipated the unique and challenging aspects of driving the Dalton. The experience included the pipeline, which often paralleled the highway (sometimes underground); 12% grades and sharp curves as shown without exaggeration on IRT; Yukon River and Arctic Circle crossings; herds of dall sheep, caribou, and musk ox posing for photographs near the road; the towering Brooks Range (through which and up which the road winds – what goes up must slide down); and the marshy expanse of tundra north of those mountains. Even the road surface – dirt, mud, potholes, frost heaves, gravel, and some paving – was unique. A 22-mile stretch of highway north from Coldfoot was as smooth as any in Tennessee. There were, however, a couple of surprises.

Just north of the musk ox herd, I found myself driving through a 50-mile stretch of tundra secluded by dense fog. I was relieved to be traversing through this Arctic fog bank in daylight. I would have been terrified to have driven it at night even in the land of the midnight sun. The next morning found the fog over the edge of the Arctic Ocean as I took my tour of the Prudhoe Bay oil fields. Residents stated that it moves inland over the tundra bog many afternoons.

The other surprise was the ocean itself. Before leaving Tennessee I had told friends that I wanted to stick my fingers in the Arctic Ocean not realizing it would be frozen solid until mid-July. I was content with walking on the bay and taking pictures of my boot, footprints, and shadow on the snowy surface. Alas, best laid plans…

Driving the Haul Road was the entire road trip’s most challenging adventure. Fortunately, I was prepared for the worst – and best – the Dalton had to offer. When asked by friends if I want to return, my response is, “Yes, to Alaska with my wife someday; but we’ll fly to Anchorage and rent a vehicle. To the Dalton? Absolutely NOT! Been there done that…but who knows?