The Tall Tale of Bubs and Beepah (Part The Last)

  Bubs ran. As he began, he looked down as he jogged on the familiar roads and noticed the blur that his legs produced. He wore the same running shoes as he had the first time, but this time he wore jeans with torn holes in the knees which made leg movement difficult.  Bubs did not shiver in the cold night because his adrenaline chemically compensated his interior for the lack of heat in the exterior environment.  Three in the morning surprisingly did not affect the performance of his legs, even in mid-February.  The blur distracted him from the running and he thought.  He thought about his goal mostly because that force pushed him to run beyond where he expected he would run.  After about two miles of running, Bubs decided he would run the entire road to his destination.  He could not wait to see.

            Bubs reached a magical land, where his dreams came true and where his life had turned into the best experience he could imagine. He had run a long way, but the price of effort paled in comparison to his reward. He had found the castle in the sky, where Beepah would always reign as the princess, and Bubs transformed into the gleam of light that was ever-blessed to illuminate her face.

ᴥ•◊

            I hope you enjoyed my very imaginary story about two people falling in love. I know it’s middle-school-girlish of me to create something like this, but I figured I’d exercise my creative hand. Besides, secretly every guy enjoys things that girls enjoyed when they were “so, like 12”. Well, I guess I’ll speak for myself, but increasingly I’m discovering guys in college listening to Taylor Swift and Justin Bieber and wearing friendship bracelets. I haven’t gone that far, I’m satisfied writing love stories rather than listening to pre-teen wannabes wail about them. Enjoy this story and remember, any character’s resemblance to a person living or dead was completely coincidental.

I Might Finally Gain the Freshman Fifteen...Tomorrow!

My stomach has been insane lately. I feel like there's another person inside of me needing food, but I have known for a long time that's biologically impossible. A side effect of having another person inside of me (even if he is imaginary): I get super hungry every three hours. I could eat an entire pizza, a salad, and three glasses of coke, and, like clockwork, my stomach would start its moaning again three hours later. For example, the only reason I'm awake at 1:54 AM on Thanksgiving morning is my stomach. I ate half of a box of graham crackers (shh don't tell my grandmother) and drank some apple cider and I'm not sure that will last me until I fall asleep.
Tomorrow I will try to remedy my sad disorder. I am going to eat at least a quarter of my weight in turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, various salads, apple pie, pumpkin pie, birthday cake, and whatever else my food-crazy family cooks up (I am VERY thankful for my food-crazy family). And I will thoroughly enjoy every moment. However, while I'm supplying my "needy" stomach, I'll remember everything I have for which to thank God. Two trips to Guatemala and one to Kenya have shown me just how fortunate I am to be where I am, with people who love me and a country ready to throw opportunities at me. Thank God for democracy, family, friends, and food. There's one poor family in Guatemala that will probably eat on thanksgiving because they now have a kitchen which I helped build. I'm so blessed and privileged to have helped people.
Have a wonderful Thanksgiving. Remember all that you have, and find out how you can give to those who don't have.

The Tall Tale of Bubs and Beepah (Part III)

They began to talk to each other. Slowly at first, in fact they talked far too slowly for either of their satisfaction. They talked infrequently, with days or even weeks in between almost the shortest of imaginable conversations. Because of their discomfort, they eventually talked with more frequency and with more words in general. One day, a crucial day for both of them, a fortunate meeting took place between them. Unplanned, unexpected, surprising, but, of course, perfectly timed. Bubs suspected the meeting ever so slightly at first, but he gave no credence to his imaginations. He had a hope that he would meet her there, a glimmering excitement that faded as the day progressed. The fickle weather had decided to assume a sunny, warm, and cheery countenance.

            Bubs prepared to leave the beach, and he thought his chances of seeing her were now completely extinct. But, of course, his thoughts did not determine the future. He saw her feet first as she walked past, gracefully striding across the soft sand. Beepah, however, did not see him. He knew she must have gone back to retrieve something she had left behind, and she would have to pass him again. Instead of leaving he stood there, as if spikes had been driven through his legs from the ground. He watched her go, observed her disappear shortly, and then he saw her approach. Bubs came to the beach, he saw the girl, and he was about to conquer.

           

            “Hey, what’s up?” he projected, raising his hand for a high five.

            “Hi, I’m just picking up trash.”

            “Oh, is that some sort of volunteer project?” he said, immediately feeling like an idiot.

            “No,” she laughed, “It’s just my family’s.”

They headed back their way; he walked ahead of her with his friends. If only he had known her thoughts as he glanced back at her. He stood at the side of the road and watched her brother point at Bubs and snicker at her as they entered the car.

            A few days whizzed past him. It was nearing the end of the summer, and Bubs had already accomplished more than he could have dreamed. He had skateboarded and walked with Beepah a few times since their beach encounter. He couldn’t imagine much more excitement entering his life at the time. He was due for quite an adventure.

            He had been advised to wait two weeks, to be cautious, and to take his time. Bubs had his mind set on this plan. He would not risk anything, although for once he felt as though things were more stable than ever before. He was sitting on his bed, looking out at the roof beyond his window. He remembered the countless times he had snuck out onto that roof from his window to experience a marvel of stars. The wide expanse of the sky opened up when he lay out on the black roof and looked up. A tall black man named Sal had once told Bubs to keep looking up. Bubs never forgot.

            As he gazed dreamily out the window, he thought he must have looked crazy to anyone who might have ever seen him sitting on the roof. Suddenly, he wanted to do something crazy. He shuffled the files of his brain for any suggestions. The one thing that occurred to him he almost immediately discarded. No, it was too risky at this time. He should do what he was advised to do: to wait. Then his crazed urge drove him to act. Before he could think, Bubs had asked Beepah out. Crazy, but glorious.

Support From Environments: Huge Animals and Hobbies

For one class, I (along with two group members) built a wind turbine which would convert wind power to mechanical work. It works well. Interestingly, the design we used for our turbine blades came from observing how whales have ridges in their fins that reduce drag as the tilt their fins at severe angles. We didn't actually do the observing, but we adopted the idea. All that to say, due to the success of our turbine (it works), the word "whale" has taken on a new meaning. I believe it is beginning to replace "cool", "wicked", "ill", "sick", "rad", and (reaching into the voluntarily forgotten past now) "groovy". "Whaling" no longer means to raise your harpoon and take to the seas; it means that whoever is "whaling" is definitely a winner. If you take ketchup packets and napkins from fast food places without eating there, you're totally a "whale". If you tell your friend you're going out "whaling", you'll probably end up balancing a spoon on your nose in the pouring rain. Sour Skittles are so "whale". Laptops that have so much hard drive space and RAM that I couldn't possibly get one for any other reason to say that I have one—hardcore whale. 

Another new development: I realized I can do homework AND skateboard in my free time. I've been skating more, which is good for me in two ways. Firstly, it's exercise (which I need more of at this time). Secondly, I've been getting better at it and it's actually fun, which means it makes a good break from completing a restless mountain of homework that never stops expanding. Well, I've been getting a few tricks down and I'm working on more. It's amazing how the marginal utility from doing one more trick never seems to decrease. If I do a kick flip, I would definitely enjoy one more, and one more after that, and another. The exhilaration, or "natural high", that skateboarding gives me is a good motivator. The college environment also encourages me to go skating with other people, which is always more conducive to good skating than doing it alone. If I completely forget how to skate, I'll always remember the lesson I learned from skateboarding: community can be encouraging, supportive, and constructive. I'm always surprised at how much a new skater learns when surrounded by other skaters.

Separately, I registered for spring semester classes. Fortunately, the AP tests I took gave me credit for quite a few classes. Next semester I will be getting ahead in my general education requirements, as well as starting on a business minor. For that, I throw a fist up and yell "WhalePower".

The Tall Tale of Bubs and Beepah (Part II)

Bubs was ready. He knew he had to be a little nervous, but mostly he knew it didn’t matter. His turn now, he went through some easy juggling first, then pulled out some of his better tricks. He threw one from beneath his leg; he picked one up with his foot and threw it into a pattern. The easily entertained group was impressed, but Bubs wouldn’t know that for a while yet. Beepah sat on her sister’s lap, and she loved watching him. She was impressed, but she felt something deeper than that. She longed for him, but she thought he had never considered her and never would. She hoped with all of her being, but always present was that whisper of impossibility that dampened her excitement.

She saw him here and there, sparingly. A few times she watched him from the window. Once he tripped but caught himself before he hit the ground. In that moment, Bubs felt watched, but he couldn’t see her inside the house. He continued on his route, not knowing but always having felt a presence. He didn’t think about her much for a while, and for a little she had stopped thinking about him. It seemed their lives would never again interlock, for any reason. Beepah never forget him in her actions, but he no longer lived in her present mind. The electricity in Bubs seemed to have died. Much in him was dead.

He slipped, he slid, he flew along the raucous ravine, plunging further into the shadowy crack. She felt as if she was doing the same, although at a slower rate. She cried heavenward, pleading for respite from her disease of loneliness. His disease had overtaken him, so that he could no longer justify pleading for release. She sought new life; he attempted a different sort of relief. Through their turbulence, someone was watching, while knowing the exact moment when to uncover the truth. The truth that Beepah longed for and Bubs needed. It was the truth that both of them secretly (secret even to themselves) wanted, but neither of them expected or could have predicted. If that which they could see was amazing, that which they could not have foreseen was unimaginable in every inspiring way.

He saw Beepah once, coincidentally. She had grown, as had he, but now his view had changed. She was no longer a mere spark inside his spirit, but a wick set aflame. He concentrated on his actions while she stood there watching him periodically. A kickflip would have been nice at the moment, but he settled for an ollie. He inquired of his brain to produce any productive thought that would give him cause to address her. Flies in his room and a stick with a nail were no longer valid conversational topics for his age. Nothing came to Bubs’s mind, and Beepah would not talk to him first. The time passed with no interaction between them. However, the wick had been lit, and ideas came into Bubs’s mind like autumn leaves wind-blown through an open door.

One of Those Things That Is Constantly Running In the Background of My Mind

Lately, my grandfather and I have been trying to solve the problems of southern Sudan one step at a time. The main issue they have is lack of water due to seasonal fluctuations that cause the Nile to flood or recede. During the wet season, when the Nile floods, there is plenty of overflowing water for farmers in the surrounding areas. However, in the dry season, a tall bank separates the farm lands from the water in the Nile. The farmers need some way to get water to their crops, thus supporting their families and hopefully creating economic growth.

My first idea involved economic principles, rather than a purely physical solution. If the farmers would grow only crops that they could trade at a high price up the Nile, they could trade for other goods they need. They would have comparative advantage in growing the crops, meaning that they could grow those crops at a lower opportunity cost than someone else. The most work to be done would be to find a crop that could grow well despite the conditions of the dry season. If the farmers could be convinced to grow only those advantageous crops rather than all of the crops they need to eat, they could trade and ultimately raise their standard of living.

My grandfather proposed a pump that runs on hydro power from the river flow. The pump would pump water from the river, over the bank, and onto the flat land above the water level. Once on the flat land, the water could be distributed to the farmers as needed. This would solve the issue of the dry season, with little expense. I have been working on the design for the pump, as it would have to convert horizontal mechanical energy into vertical mechanical energy. In order to minimize drag, we are contriving a way to turn the blades of the energy harvesting part of the pump once the blades have done the working part of the rotation. Then the blades would have to stay flat until the top of one half-rotation, then turn again to catch the flow of the water.

It's not an easy problem to solve, but it is possible with the simple combination of economic principles and engineering to move the water cheaply. Although it is still in the early conceptual stage, it would be great if this project could grow into something real.

Harmony and I in Newburyport after the Chocolate Tour.

The Tall Tale of Bubs and Beepah (Part I)

Let me tell you there was a boy named Bubs. He stood there in a sweatshirt, leaning against the door frame and eating. Orange-frosted cookie in his hand, he stared at the opposite wall, thinking something large compared to his small head. He either didn’t notice the younger girl, or he pretended not to notice. Beepah saw him, she looked at his eyes. Mesmerized, she thought him beautiful. She loved his eyes. He scowled, his mind full of philosophical arguments, and she turned quickly. With a flick of her light blond hair, she ran off to play. Bubs stayed, leaning on the door frame, his eyes betraying the new and exciting feelings inside.

            He ran around the right side of the building, jumped through the dugout corner, and ran to the back of the building. He stopped short and stared out into the prickly brush. He was too late; they had left him behind again. He wasn’t allowed to play with them there because it was too dangerous or too dark or too out of sight. He hung his head, sighed, and turned to leave the area. Suddenly, she appeared beside him. Beepah had startled him and he searched desperately for words, anything that would create a wall of security so he could hide his disappointment. He blurted something about flies in his room and how they bothered him when he was trying to sleep. She simply stared at his eyes, and immediately he assumed she had taken his comment as idiocy. He walked away embarrassed, disappointed from being abandoned, but with something still sparking in his soul.

             She stood in the dugout, delighting in the dirt and dark. An intrusion caught her attention and she saw him enter. Her heart leaped as Bubs leaped through the opening. Clearly he was playing hide and seek, but she couldn’t help but feel he had come for her. The stick should have told her that he had in fact come for her, but she couldn’t know that. Bubs did not know why he poked her; he figured it was preferable to poking her with his finger. He regretted not tapping her or just speaking to her, as his comment implicitly revealed.

“It’s a good thing I didn’t poke you with that end. There’s a nail there, you could’ve gotten hurt.”

What he really wanted to say, what his comment should have meant, was that he should not have poked her with the stick at all. He should have found a different reason to address her, but he was too afraid. After all, Bubs was only eight. There's not much an eight year-old boy can think he has in common with a six year-old girl. He would have to leave that sort of thinking for much later. Beepah had to leave—her absence created a longing in his heart, but that heart still firmly grasped a growing electricity.

Compensation

It is12:42 AM and I'm typing somewhat noisily while my roommate is trying to sleep. Until now I was feeling bad that I may have made it difficult for him to sleep with a bright light (the computer screen), incessant clacking (computer keyboard), and a squeaking chair (my constant movement). But now I realize that we have much louder noises to sleep through. The realization came from the sudden blast of music two doors down (Nick and James: if you ever read this, I actually think putting surround sound in your room was an awesome idea). My roommate seems to have slept through it, however, and now I am reminded of last night (Halloween). I went to bed at 11, which is earlier than my usual bedtime, because I had Intro to Engineering at 8:00 today (blech). I thought, I thought, I would feel quite rested by 7:00. Oh yeah, duh, it's Halloween night and I live on a college campus in a freshman only residence hall. The most common sounds I woke up to frequently last night: hair-raising screams. The second most common: creepy, evil laughter. Well, what was I expecting?

This week is busy week for me. I've had one exam already, a project due tomorrow and another exam and a quiz on Thursday. I think I actually enjoy these weeks more than the lazy weeks, for two reasons: the week after, which usually involves less work and more recovery, and all of the things I do to "cope" with the mental strain from studying. I watch TED talks, TV shows and movies, and I write. Basically, I make my week EVEN more busy. I can't seem to take each week at a consistent pace, I prefer doing everything I can in one week then doing nothing the next. Slow and steady wins the race, but I haven't even entered the race yet. I'm still in the gym training for the race; I have to lift a lot of weight at once and then rest for a while.

This post is called "Compensation" because I didn't generate a single post during the month of October. Oops.

It's Been Such A Long Time

Well it's been a while, hasn't it. I've been doing school work, I suppose. Anyway, I'm back from a hiatus of...laziness, and I want to share something inspirational. If you haven't heard of TED and watched some TED talks I'm recommending, requesting, and pleading that you do. TED stands for Technology, Entertainment, Design. The organization hosts inspirational speakers in those three fields (as well as from others) to speak at conventions about their ideas. They are all interesting and you can learn about the recent developments of technology around the world as well as listen to some very inspirational people speak. Along with reading Science magazine, watching TED talks gives me one of the most potent intellectual highs I've ever had. So watch some TED talks and soon your friends will watch you, eyes ablaze and mouth running, talk about barefoot engineers, lie spotting, and bacterial clothing. Here's the link: http://www.ted.com/.
I mentioned lie spotting, which is a talk given by Pamela Meyer, CEO of Simpatico Networks. She collected research on deception and wrote a book called Liespotting. At TED, she talks about some ways to tell when someone is lying, so I took notes (whaaatt??!!-Burton Guster from Psych) and I have decided to post them cause they may be useful either if you're going to watch the video or if you'd like to know the tell-tale signs of a liar. The link to that video is here: http://www.ted.com/talks/pamela_meyer_how_to_spot_a_liar.html

A few interesting things to know about lying from the video:

Lying is an attempt to connect what we wish we could be with who we really are.
Strangers lie three times withing 10 minutes of meeting each other.
We lie more to strangers than to coworkers, extroverts lie more than introverts, and men lie 8 times more about themselves than about other people. Women lie more to protect other people.
In the average married couple, one spouse will lie to the other in 1 out of every 10 interactions, while for unmarried couples that drops to 3.
And now notes on how to actually spot lies:
Trained liespotters are right 90% of the time.
There are good liars and bad liars, there are no real origin liars.

There are patterns that liars consistently follow:
Pattern #1: Verbal dodging
Non contracted denial: Saying "did not" instead of didn't. People who are overdetermined in their denial will resort to formal rather than informal language.
Distancing: While speaking, liars unconsciously distance themselves from their subject (for example saying "that woman" instead of simply saying her name).
Pattern #2: Body Language tips
Fidgeting: Contrary to popular thought, liars actually tend freeze their upper bodies. Liars also tend to look you in their eyes too much to compensate for the fact that people say liars have shifty eyes.
Fake smile: A person can't consciously contract eyes to make the crows feet of a real smile, so you can spot a fake smile by looking at the eyes. A fake smile won't have those smiling eyes.
The Hot Spots: attitude is the most overlooked but telling indicator. An honest person will
be cooperative, enthusiastic, willing and helpful to find the truth. They will brainstorm, name suspects, and provide details. An honest person will be infuriated throughout the entire interview (not just in flashes) if they sense they're being wrongly accused.
An honest person is more likely to suggest strict rather than lenient punishment for the perpetrator.
A liar will be withdrawn, look down, lower their voice, pause, be "herky-jerky", and provide way too much detail on irrelevant things. Liars tend to tell their story in strict chronological order, so one technique interrogators use is to ask them to tell their story backwards.
We rehearse our words but not our gestures, so sometimes a liar will shake his head no while saying yes.
Duping delight: a deceptive smile may give away a liar.
Contempt: an expression of contempt shows you've been dismissed and expresses moral superiority
Contempt looks like: one lip corner pulled up and in, it is the only asymmetrical expression.
Liars shift their blink rate, point their feet towards an exit, take barrier objects and put them between themself and the person who is interviewing them, and alter their vocal tone, often making it lower.

These are just behaviors, not proof of deception. They're red flags they don''t mean anything in and of
themselves. When you see clusters of these behaviors that's your signal of a liar.
Ask hard questions, get into curiosity mode, and treat the subject with dignity; don't be too aggressive.

Well I hope these notes are useful to somebody, either to use or to spark interest in TED. I'll end with a joke that Sanjit "Bunker" Roy used in a TED talk.

What's the best way of communicating in the world today? Television? No. Telegraph? No. Telephone? No.
Tell a woman.