Sponsoring Your Smile

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A bus shelter at 17th and Bryant in San Francisco. The ad has been there for gee, at least six months. I like the image and the legend “Patrocinador de tu sonrisa.” Spanish-challenged as I am, I imagined that “patrocinador de tu sonrisa” had something to do with “sunrise.” Naturally, it doesn’t. It translates as, “Sponsor of your smile.”

And the text below?

¿Qué hace una rata en una esquina? Esperando un rato.

It’s a joke (Nesquik sponsors your smile), but one that relies on a pun, one that I can’t fathom, so can’t translate well:

What does a rat in a corner do? It waits a while.

(Spanish-speaking friends, please jump in here.)

We Answer Your Questions

Occasionally, we respond to questions. As in the following case:

Dear Dr. Info:
Why does my pee smell like that?
Signed,
Concerned

Dear Concerned:

Without more detail, it’s hard to know for sure. But my guess is that you ate asparagus recently. That’s because studies by the Urine Institute have found that more than 90 percent of questions about micturation odors are related to asparagus consumption. And indeed, these observations appear in literature from ancient times. Achilles complains about the smell of Agamemnon’s “offensive green stream” after a feast of braised asparagus (“The Iliad,” Book XIV) and retires to his tent until the air clears. Much later, Voltaire called the liquid aftermath of asparagus consumption one of the delights of life, deeming the attendant aroma le grand phunque.

Knowing you, you want more than just my guess that asparagus is involved. OK, then–let’s assume it’s asparagus. Now that we’ve done that, we can ask, “why does asparagus make your pee smell like that?”

The answer is surprising (to me, anyway): Although research has zeroed in on certain chemicals and metabolic processes that apparently play a role in producing the funk, there is no universal agreement about the source or the cause; about whether everyone produces smelly urine after an asparagus party or only some people; or whether the real issue is whether everyone has the olfactory equipment needed to smell asparagus pee.

Here are some sources:

Asparagus, in the Wikipedia (see the section on asparagus and urine).

Why does asparagus make your pee smell funny?, from The Straight Dope.

How Does Asparagus Make Urine Smell?, from eHow.com.

Big Bathtub II: ‘Wasted’

The state periodically produces a document called the California Water Plan. It has been coming out in one form or other regularly or irregularly since 1930. It's part catalogue of the state's water resources, part status report on climate, rivers and the plumbing system that eases the thirst of farms and cities, and–as I read it–part marketing brochure for our biggest water customer, agriculture, and for new dams and reservoirs to secure its water supplies. That last aspect may seem odd, but I was struck by how the draft for the next water plan sings the praises of farmers' efficiency in using every last drop of water they get. It ought to be noted that California agriculture gets about four gallons out of five of the water impounded in the state's reservoirs.

The California Department of Water Resources offers a set of summary statistics on the state's natural water supply. In an average year, the state gets about 200 million acre feet of water in rain, snow, and river flows from other states (the latter is mostly by way of the Colorado River, long a major source of water for Southern California).

Of that 200 million acre feet–probably enough water to keep China going for a year if you could save every thimbleful–100 million or 120 million just sort of goes away. It evaporates, gets sucked up by redwood trees and crabgrass and some crops, or keeps natural marshes marshy. Of the remaining 80 million to 100 million acre feet, about half is captured for urban and agricultural uses. And the final portion, sometimes a quarter or more of all water that nature provides this dry place, flows down the great valley rivers, the Sacramento and San Joaquin, and out the coastal streams and bays to the Pacific. The state website describes this outflow as necessary "in part to meet environmental requirements." It sounds responsible of us. Almost altruistic.

If you've spent enough time in the San Francisco Bay region, you can name a couple of these "environmental requirements" almost without thinking about them. One is the need for an adequate flow of freshwater to prevent the "intrusion" of saltwater into the Sacramento-San Joaquin Delta. Brackish water threatens farms there, and it also effects residential users, some of whose water is siphoned right out of the Delta channels.

Another environmental factor is fish. The installation of the vast and complex system of dams, reservoirs, canals, pumps and siphons up and down the Central Valley–but especially in the Delta–has proved deadly for the great salmon runs that used to charge in from the Pacific nearly year round. Belatedly, state and federal water and wildlife officials, at the prompting and prodding of politicians, environmentalists and their lawyers, and judges, have seen fit to set aside some of the yearly flows for the good of the salmon and other imperiled species.

But that responsible, almost altruistic-sounding side of the state's water management sometimes lets its guard down. Our governor, remarkable for his knack to say the right thing–and for seeming to never dig in and deliver on that thing–was talking last week about all that must still be done to fix California. One of his pet projects is a $9 billion program of dam, reservoir, and canal construction. When he was making his pitch for it last week, he described the water that flows out to the Pacific as a waste. It's as if he and those of like mind believe that every glassful, every ounce, ought to be put to productive–you know, human–use.

In saying that, the governor gave voice to an old, old sentiment. Fish and wildlife were never a big consideration when the rivers got plumbed. Putting water to work was the chief concern.

In 1919–90 years ago this week, in fact–the California State Irrigation Association published a tract by Lt. Col. Robert Bradford Marshall. He was a veteran of the U.S. Geological Survey who had studied rivers in California and the West and the problem of getting water where it wasn't. His 12-page report was titled "Irrigation of Twelve Million Acres in the Valley of California." The Department of Water Resources acknowledges Marshall's report as the forebear of the present-day California Water Plan by listing it as the earliest iteration of the state's great water schemes. In short, Marshall proposed building a big dam in the northern Sacramento Valley and building a series of great canals to bring water to both farm and city. Thinking about our current governor and the idea that water that flows into the ocean without having done any honest work is a waste, I was struck by the tract's introduction to Marshall's ideas:

"… Back in those early days Col. Marshall wondered why they didn't irrigate in Northern California as they were doing in Colorado, where he had surveyed the year before. And he then as a young man dreamed that dream of EMPIRE BUILDING that every man of vision at one time or another has dreamed when he views California's millions of acres parched and burning in the summer and her millions of acre feet of water pouring into the Pacific in the winter. …"

And here's Marshall himself, describing that free-flowing water and the people who apparently refused to control it:

"The people of California, indifferent to the bountiful gifts that Nature has given them, sit idly by waiting for rain, indefinitely postponing irrigation, and allowing every year millions and millions of dollars in water to pour unused into the seas, when there are hungry thousands in this and in other countries pleading for food and when San Francisco and the Bay Cities, the metropolitan district of California, are begging for water."

In a dry year like this one, you still hear voices begging for water. And the answer we hear from the governor, farm interests, and water officials is now, as it was so long ago, to capture more of the water that falls on us and put it to work.

Guest Observation: Jem Casey

In honor of the day. From Flann O’Brien’s “At Swim-Two-Birds,” whence this comes, and where it might be better appreciated in context.

Workman’s Friend (or, A Pint of Plain)

When things go wrong and will not come right,
Though you do the best you can,
When life looks black as the hour of night –
A PINT OF PLAIN IS YOUR ONLY MAN.

When money’s tight and is hard to get
And your horse has also ran,
When all you have is a heap of debt –
A PINT OF PLAIN IS YOUR ONLY MAN.

When health is bad and your heart feels strange,
And your face is pale and wan,
When doctors say that you need a change,
A PINT OF PLAIN IS YOUR ONLY MAN.

When food is scarce and your larder bare
And no rashers grease your pan,
When hunger grows as your meals are rare –
A PINT OF PLAIN IS YOUR ONLY MAN.

In times of trouble and lousy strife,
You still have got a darlint plan,
You still can turn to a brighter life –
A PINT OF PLAIN IS YOUR ONLY MAN

“… There’s one thing in that pome, permanence, if you know what I mean. That pome, I mean to say, is a pome that’ll be heard wherever the Irish race is wont to gather, it’ll live as long as there’s a hard root of an Irishman left by the Almighty on this planet, mark my words.”

Need Ice?

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In this age of (apparently) shrinking polar ice caps, I pondered what’s been happening up north this winter–way north, in the Arctic night. The first site that Google produced for the phrase “arctic sea ice” was this: Arctic Sea Ice News and Analysis. The news: the extent of Arctic sea ice is greater than it was in the minimum season (two years ago); the extent of Arctic sea ice is significantly below the average recorded for the years 1979-2000. But check out the sight for yourself.

And a bonus for Arctic ice fans: The Catlin Arctic Survey (patron: HRH The Prince of Wales): Three Brits on the ice plus a logistics team tracking and resupplying them. The team is to trek from a spot north of Canada’s Arctic coast to the North Pole, about 1,000 kilometers; its mission is to measure the thickness of the ice along the way; that could be important evidence about ice deterioration under the pressure of global warming.

The adventurers set out on March 1, and in their 15 days on the ice they’ve traveled all of 28 kilometers. That’s about 17 miles, if you’re keeping score in the United States, or a little more than a mile a day. Luckily, the weather is fine: currently -41 degrees C. (-42 F.) and sunny. The BBC’s running a nicely done diary site, complete with audio reports from the trekkers.

Encounters with the Saints

Went down to Santa Clara last night to see our local men’s professional soccer team, the San Jose Earthquakes, play an exhibition against what amounts to a farm team, the Portland Timbers (the home side won, 1-0; thanks, Eamon and Sakura).

The Quakes play in Buck Shaw Stadium at Santa Clara University. Saint Clare, I dimly recall from the Nikos Kazantzakis novel and maybe a Hollywood movie starring someone like Bradford Dillman, was Saint Francis’s one-time squeeze from Assisi (at least that’s how I think the story goes). When he gave up the life of the feckless, dissipating hedge-fund operator (or medieval equivalent) for one of impoverished contemplation and ethical treatment of animals, Clare did likewise.

Fast-forward to the Spanish colonization of California: Both saints wound up having California missions named after them. The one memorializing Saint Francis was part of the settlement that eventually turned into a town full of dissipation and hedge-fund shenanigans and only occasional world-renouncing introspection. The mission celebrating Saint Clare burned down, I’m told, and was replaced by the building you see here, which is on the campus of Santa Clara University–a place that I expect veers constantly between partying and deep reflection.

Mission Santa Clara

Svein Tuft Watch: Tirreno-Adriatico, Stages 4 and 5

You know, I haven’t watched a minute of this race–I think at least clips are available online–and I don’t know whether it would make a difference in terms of understanding what the course has been like for Svein and the other racers. From afar, one of the strangest things about the race so far is following the progress–no, lack of progress–of Fabian Cancellara. When last we heard of him, he was winning the prologue of the Tour of California, then falling ill and dropping out the next day–the cold wet run from Davis to Santa Rosa that prompted Lance Armstrong to Twitter, “Holy hell. That was terrible.” Cancellara is still sick (and injured) and is not only last in the Tirreno-Adriatico G.C., but has added to his legend by having been overtaken by the rider who followed him out onto the course during today’s time trial. This is the Olympic and world champion time-trial champion we’re talking about here, and the 2007 champion of this very race.

But back to Tuft-world. Standingswise, Svein moved up this weekend:

Saturday

Stage 4, 171 kilometers from Foligno to Montelupone (the finish is on a wall with stretches of 20 percent plus).

Stage 4 finish: 48th, 5:04 behind stage winner Joaquim Rodriguez (Spanish, riding for Caisse d’Epargne). Svein and Garmin-Slipstream teammate Julian Dean finished together, trailing the previous group by a minute and the following group by 50 seconds.)

G.C. placing after Stage 4: 83rd, 13:48 behind leader (Rodriguez). Tuft and Dean are placed with the same time in G.C.

Sunday

Loreto Aprutino → Macerata

Stage 5, 30-kilometer time trial from Loreto Aprutino to Macerata

Stage 5 finish: 41th, 2:12 behind stage winner Andreas Kloeden (German, riding for Astana).

G.C. placing after Stage 4: 72nd, 15:29 behind leader (Kloeden).

Green Job

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Just across the street from the North Berkeley BART station is a house with a high-profile home industry: birdhouses fashioned from cast-off lumber. I think I noticed the place five or six years ago, and it has become more obvious since, with half a dozen or more pickups and other vehicles parked along the block across from the station, all festooned with these whimsical and perhaps even practical hand-crafted avian domiciles (I have yet to see these elsewhere, though I figure some must have sold by now). In the last month or so, the birdhouse entrepreneur has freshened the marketing with references to the new administration, economic stimulus, etc. I snapped this walking by the other night.  

Svein Tuft Watch: Tirreno-Adriatico Stage 3

Well, the headline from this stage highlights one of Svein’s teammates, Tyler Farrar. He did what few casual observers would think possible nowadays: beat Team Columbia’s Mark Cavendish head to head in the closing sprint. Cavendish has not only demonstrated amazing acceleration in the final 200 meters, he is from all appearances utterly confident in his ability to beat anyone when the chips are down.

Svein’s numbers:

Stage 3, 166 kilometers from Fucecchio to Santa Croce sull’Arnoa.

Stage 3 finish: 107th, same time as stage winner Tyler Farrar.

G.C. placing after Stage 3: 127th, 8:59 behind leader Julien El Fares.

See Velonews writeup and standings  . Team Garmin-Slipstream writeup here  . Tirreno-Adriatico page at Steephill.tv.

Also of note: Garmin-Slipstream’s Julian Dean’s Tirreno-Adriatico diary at Cycling News. Reviewing Stage 1, he is brutally critical of his own performance:

I wasn’t good at all today and it was a stage where I should’ve been good. It was a final that would normally be perfect for me and I was bad. We had a 4km climb, 15km from the finish – not too unlike the finish of San Remo – and when we got to the bottom of it I couldn’t follow the second group, let alone the front group!!!