Data

A picture isn't really worth a thousand words in this case, but here's my data.  It's only 120 ish points because it's samples from our watershed on a specific time interval (hopefully it will go up soon as we do more samples).

What you are looking at is (on the x axis) an index-- pretty much an index of "how big is the canopy".  On the y-axis is the biomass of the leaves.  This is on a plot by plot basis.

I have reason (biologically and ecologically) to believe that this should blow up at an exponential rate. Or, should I say, BRORB has reason to believe this, and she knows far more about this than I do.  If it doesn't, that's cool, but I should probably have a damn good fit to show other wise.

It kind of just looks like blob now. Or perhaps a whale, leaping from the water towards that outlier in the upper right hand corner.

I'm not sure I am doing the fitting right-- I've never done anything more complex than variations of cubic or logarithmic without the great guidance of many stats people. It's a learning curve that I want to jump asap.

aRRRR2 (d2)?

This is just a short rant about R's name... as you have already noticed!

Google-searching "R" and whatever else I want brings about 90% random crap results and 10% actual results.

I mean, some things it understands ("R" and "statistical package") but some things completely blow it up-- ("R" and "extract data" or "R" and "get initial parameters")

On a side note, I'm doing some curve fitting here (or trying to learn how to do it on R)-- this is my first "non-SAS curve fitting."  I can tell the shape of my curve is definitely a logarithm kind, but not a ln-ln transform. In fact, the best R squared I got with a transform (I know, don't touch the R-squared in non linear fits, but it does help me get ideas informally) was with the X value cubed and the normal Y value.  I did also test the "is it a straight line on log-log plot" and the answer was "my data is really fat"... I can't really tell.

It would be fun to find a power law, but I'm just hoping for one.  I'll take a regular ln fit, if I need to.

In any case, I am SO GLAD to be doing statistics and not excel right now.  Tomorrow and into next week I am going to be working on learning programming in Processing language.  Strangely enough, I really like to learn about programming; it's very relaxing, sort of like a puzzle or something.  I could make a habit of this.

(Is it sad to say that I much more enjoy doing this curve-fitting than going out with people... it's nothing against the people... I just take much joy in statistics).

aRRRRRR

So, here's the R issue of the day.

I've got a lot of really short, 7 point vectors... about 350 of them. I want to use these vectors to run regression (starting with logistic and probably some non linear).  So for example (how do you do that matrix thing in blog?) I may have the matrix:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 .....
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 .....
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 ....
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 ....
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

Right, so the vectors I would speak of all are the items on column 1, 2, 3, 4 and so on (past 15 to 350).  So in a sense it's not even a "matrix" but really an array of data that happens to be understood  by R as a matrix (it actually will be in R as a table, but R still uses matrix words like vector, transpose, etc.)

So my question is that I need to regress all of these columns against a string of numbers that are a variable themselves.  I set this string normally as

String<-c(2,2,2,2,2,2,2)

But of course it's not really all 2's.

So assuming I just had some normal data also written as a string like this: data<-c(2,2,2,2,2,2,2),  I could say

Summary(lm(data~string)

Which gives me the summary statistics of a linear model of the data onto a string.

So taking a step back.  I need to use a vector instead of a data string.  When I tell R to find the column with an index of [0] it can output to me this

v$0 [1,1,1,1,1,1,1]

but it will cannot tall that v$0 is a string and not a vector, so I get an error message that the objects are not the some type.

I don't really know what to look for, but I tried finding an "as.string" command as well as the "paste" command (which is sort of the concatenate command for R).  Also I tried to transpose the vector, thinking maybe it would be happier to read it facing the other way.

At this point, I feel sort of like S.  BUT HOW DO YOU PICK UP A PICTURE WITH YOUR MOUSE I DON'T UNDERSTAND?

I default to HE WHO KNOWS MUCH OF PROGRAMMING--- any suggestions for things I could google search that might describe what I am trying to do?  I think maybe I am just looking for the wrong thing, and there's a simple term out there in programming that means what I am trying to do.

It's sort of a long drive...

But LOOK! What do I see at the bottom of that screen?? WHY IT'S THE UMPQUAAAAAAAAA.....

PS. I think physicists are cool.

coming out of the closet?

no, it's not what you are thinking! more that today we cleaned out the lab closet in search of the licor, which is an instrument that we use.  we found the licor, but more importantly, we found tree climbing gear!  to which BRORB said, you should probably learn how to use this stuff, since you'll be ascending lots of trees.

now, that's not such a big deal in the east, and my buddy who did arboriculture there helped me to learn how to just get up to the first branch, but out here... these are some darn BIG HONKING TREES. it's going to be AWESOME. yes, I'm completely afraid of heights, and may well scream like a chihuahua whilst climbing, but still! what a job!

on a side note, i also learned about an extremely accurate sampling technique today.  it's called the shotgun method. the idea is that you shoot at the canopy with a shot gun and figure out the canopy density from what falls down. yes, there is also a shot gun in the closet. but it's for academic use only!

T REX says it all

Credit to: http://www.qwantz.com/index.php

BOB!!

I finally have the model to play with... must do work before playing with model.... So much documentation! :)

Irony

I work on carbon budgeting, but my annual carbon expenditure is 110% of the national average and 513% of the global average. 

http://www.deq.state.or.us/programs/sustainability/carboncalculator.htm

Most of this comes from transportation... but still... wow. I feel like a hypocrite!

Data management

I learned from the NSF guy last week that one thing that will be required to be on all NSF funding proposals (as of 2010, I think, so it's already there) is a two-page data management plan.  As much of a fluffy pain in the tail this may seem to be, the more I muse on it, the more I hope I take it seriously when that time comes for me.

It has been a lesson in networking for me, being here.  I have learned that it's not just always me at a computer running regressions. It's a lot of finding the person or persons who have already done those regressions, finding who owns what data, digging through files in the FSLs, contacting random people I've never met and remembering, oh this is Dr. So-and-So who studied such-and-such approximately X years ago. I can see now why BRORB says she has trouble with names. It is sort of an onslaught, and our field is dominated by about 75 % males who look.... the same. 

This week for instance, I've got meetings backed up to meetings with meetings.  There's emails floating through my inbox that deal with topics I've never thought about before, and people asking my advice on things I've never heard of. I'm learning that it's okay to say "I don't know" and not try to clarify it with "but you could try this or that." It's sort of just, "I don't know.  I lived in loblolly-land for 25 years and frankly, this is way over my head right now." When I go to foreign countries the first day or so there's always this sense of immersion, and it's kind of like that.  FI in Wales, most people speak Cymraig, and even when they do talk in English, it's really broken and accented. You can't really get anywhere. Now, I can pick up some Spanish or German, but Cymraig is from celtic roots, and sounds completely different.  I remember riding the train from Birmingham to Aberysthwyth, and getting off thinking, I have no phone, I don't know where I am, I've been up for nearly 30 hours, I've been to Cleveland, Newark, London, and Birmingham, now I was on this train for 5 hours and I'm in Wales where no one speaks English, and somehow I've got to walk six miles and find a certain cliff that is outstanding where Chalie will be waiting for me.  Just so we all have this clear, there are a LOT of cliffs in Wales-- in Abers, there's really only one area with cliffs, but Wales overall-- cliff isn't really an outstanding feature. 

So I walked towards the only direction that didn't have hills, which was the ocean.  The whole world was sort of white-- maritime layer and I met for the first time-- but very cold, because there are not really any mountains to stop the wind.  I walked down cobblestone streets.  Every time the wind blew cold rain over those in the street we stopped in our tracks, waiting for it to dissapate.  Shepards brought their sheep through the town.  So I'm marching (in little steps) over cobbles across some random town in Wales, hoping that I'm heading towards the ocean, and really amazed by the beauty and power, but scared, really scared, because I have no idea where I'm going.

It's sort of the same thing here-- it's a big immersion. The language is completely different from anything I'm used to and I can't even really figure out the structure yet. I sort of know a vague end goal-- I know what kind of stuff with be in my dissertation, and I know what problem I will work on for my first article/main chapter.  I know that I'll probably take my Spanish and German written exams this winter to get them out of the way (they are easier than normal exams, it's just reading a few papers in the languages and then writing up a legible synopsis, as well as a timed translation of 2 pages of text).  But I don't know much more than that.

Data management: meta data is used to classify the data into groups that can be (prepare for epic movie reference) "programmed, categorized, and easily referenced." It would be nice if there was some sort of social meta.  But not facebook.  Just a meta for a real network of people and ideas, so that if you thought, well I just need to get general information on say, hydrology, who is the main pivot for this idea, and how, when, where do I find him or her.  (Did you know that males are much more likely to publish than females? I will have to be an OUTLIER).

This morning I wanted to run along a trail someone about.  I thought I had found it (I think I did) but it connects to many other trails, and I ended up the Timber Hill Corporate Forest and on some other county park (Benton has a lot of county parks). At one point, there was a huge, fallen douglas-fir on the trail.  It was probably 40 inches DBH (not old-growth huge, just huge) and I climbed up onto it, laying my body across it, my hands in it's furrowed bark.  I was, actually, hugging a tree.  It felt nice, a little bit less scared or something. I walked up the fallen bole and sat near its top (so the run kind of fell by the wayside at this point).  I couldn't see much distance, but I was sort of secluded in the forest and there were some elk (they looked like elk, at least) bustling about. I'm not really sure what the point of that story was, I guess as I was sitting there I thought, damn, I could probably write a really sick fantasy allegory about this time in my life.  Of course, there would need to be some dragons and stuff added in. But maybe I will.

On a side note, in my 21st century attempts to find solace through Google chrome, I found that it is not so uncommon to live away from those you love: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/04/fashion/04commuter.html?emc=eta1. It makes me glad to know that other people endure the same (and worse); it reminds me these things are temporary. I lack nothing in the tenacity department.

Tomorrow Bob and I are doing differential equations... at 8 am. I'm hoping the early time will reduce the smartness differential between us and I'll be able to keep up. 

The Good, The Bad, The Ugly

THE GOOD: Tom Yum Soup http://thaifood.about.com/od/oodlesofnoodles/r/tyumnoodles.htm

THE BAD: "The Luther" http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Luther_Burger

THE UGLY: "The Onion" reports on Dominos http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=31JNEVHZxO8 (maybe those quotes should be around "reports" and not around "The Onion.")

And here is where I think I am turning into TRex http://www.qwantz.com/comics/comic2-643.png.

Now, have a happy day.

Just a reflection

I wish that Oregon was in San Francisco sometimes a lot. 

Waiting to digest

I just ate a banana and now I'm waiting for it to digest.  Eating bananas is a great morning exercise-- they are healthy, they taste good, and they digest pretty quickly, so that you can get a run on shortly thereafter. 

I've finally acclimated to the weather here. It's about 50 out, and I feel just about perfect.  I think the acclimation will stay until the winter, and I'll be glad for that. Maybe at that time I will find a way to build a bonfire on the patio to stay warm.

This place is a beautiful place. I know I say it a lot.  But this place is really a beautiful place. I've come to start thinking about why that is.  Is it the stunning landscape? Well, maybe.  I mean, it's beautiful and all, the trees and the mountains, but certainly west of here in the basin or east of here in the coast range you are going to get a little more stunning beauty. The proximity to stunning can't be beat. Maybe it is the people? They are eco-conscious, kind, there is no crime, nobody dresses up, uses an umbrella, or has any social hierarchy.  There are more veggie-loving yogis here than I've seen anywhere.  It's an active community for people of same-sex preference, people of all races, men and women.  But I'm not always a people person, so maybe it's not that.  So perhaps it's the cleanness? Recycle bins everywhere, clean streets, quiet, local restaurants preventing corporate megalomania.  Or maybe the research community? We are the best funded environmental research school in the nation and likewise we are ranked number 1 (even against private institutions) in almost every environmental field. Forestry, meteorology, oceonography, geology, environmental engineering.  The DOE, USFS, NOAA, NASA, EPA... they've all got stations here... it's not just the money, but the professional connections.  Still, there are other OK research schools in the country-- other LTERS, NEONS, etc.

It could be all of those, but I think what is so appealing about here, overall, is a synergy of things-- there is just this incredible local consciousness.  I've been thinking about Wendell Berry a lot lately. He is a professor at the University of Kentucky (or I think he is retired now), an avid writer, sort of a radical, and the leader of the propaganda for the Agrarian movement.  Which actually is a political party in OR, according to my voter registration card. One thing WB emphasizes is that man reaches his maximum capability in research, life, love, and potential when he is inherently tied to his land.  What I take that to mean is more than just a reflection on datasets vs.reality, it's a reflection on the complexity of the reality. I.E. this community is based on timber.  Timber drives our economy. Sure, also there is agriculture, but look at any map of OR and you can clearly see timber.  Hell, Weyerhauser's main plant is just 8 miles down the road. Weyerhauser! WOW. Everything in everyone's life here-- the prices, the lack of taxes (timber tax increase offset), the ecological conciousness, the knowledge of growth patterns and regeneration, wood structures, biodiesel and post-logging fuels, it's all driven by our enterprise.  What we research--- carbon flow-- is just one process in the ecosystem that defines how timber works.  We don't even really talk about timber. But ultimately what we do can make a tool so that the people who do timber can harvest smartly and effectively.

So everyday I wake up and my whole life is tied into this one timber synergy.  The ag fields I run through show me alternative crops and teach me about the soil.  The trails I hike expose me to ground vegetation and timber planting regimes. The mountains I enjoy show me airsheds and watersheds. The local products I buy help to bolster the economy in the face of a depressed real estate (and therefore lumber) market. It's something that can be magical for everyone-- a butterfly effect, or something, or "trickle down (I guess it would be "trickle across") environmental economics, maybe. What I love here is that it's all connected. It's not looking at single street trees, or a park isolated from the world. It's not just the basin, or the set of basins, or the watersheds.  Nor the researchers, and how they work in collaborative groups-- it's this big, special synergy-- it makes this place a beautiful place.

I am a zealous n00b Oregonian. 

Agriculture

"Correctness and enough time are inseparable notions. Correctness cannot be hurried, for it is both the knowledge of what ought to be done, and the willingness to do it-- all of it, properly.The good worker will not suppose that good work and be made properly answerable to haste or urgency. But the good worker knows too that after it is done work requires yet more time to prove its worth.  One must stay to experience and study and understand the consequences-- must understand them by living with them, and correct them, if necessary, by living longer and with more work.

What works poorly in agriculture-- monoculture, for instance, or annual accounting-- can be pretty fully explained, because what works poorly is invariable some oversimplifying thought that subjugates nature, people, and culture.  What works well ultimately defies explanation because it involves an order of magnitude and complexity that is ultimately incomprehensible." - Wendell Berry, The Art of the Commonplace

Brick walls

"Brick walls are there for a reason. The brick walls are not there to keep us out. The brick walls are there to show how badly we want something. Because the brick walls are there to stop the people who don't want something badly enough. They are there to keep out the other people."
-Randy Pausch, The Last Lecture

Criticism

"When you're screwing up and nobody says anything to you anymore, that means they've given up on you. That lesson has stuck with me my whole life. When you see yourself doing something badly and nobody's bothering to tell you anymore, that's a bad place to be. You may not want to hear it, but your critics are often the ones telling you they still love you and care about you, and want to make you better."
-Randy Pausch, The Last Lecture

Nothing new under the sun

So, I had a random idea about representing complex numbers as commuting matrices, which comes out in sort of a neat way. I spent an hour or so typing up some simple results of this representation...and then, on a hunch that I was (as usual) reinventing the wheel, I gingerly typed "complex numbers as matrices" into Google.

Yup, this representation is so well-known that it's on Wikipedia. Sigh...oh well. But, since I already typed this up, I thought I'd tell the world all about one more way in which Pericles reinvents the wheel!

A complex number $z = x+iy$ is written as an ordered pair of real numbers $x$ and $y$, which corresponds to a vector in the complex plane:
\[ z = (x,y) = \begin{bmatrix} \, x \, \\ \, y \, \end{bmatrix}. \]
Addition of complex numbers is carried out as ordinary vector addition,
\[ z_1 + z_2 = \begin{bmatrix} \, x_1 \, \\ \, y_1 \, \end{bmatrix} + \begin{bmatrix} \, x_2 \, \\ \, y_2 \, \end{bmatrix} = \begin{bmatrix} \, x_1 + x_2 \, \\ \, y_1 + y_2 \, \end{bmatrix}. \]
Multiplication of complex numbers uses $i^2 = -1$ and is carried out as
\[ z_1 z_2 = (x_1+iy_1)(x_2+iy_2) = (x_1x_2-y_1y_2)+i(x_1y_2+y_1x_2) = \begin{bmatrix} \, x_1x_2-y_1y_2 \, \\ \, y_1x_2+y_2x_1 \, \end{bmatrix}. \]
This can be rewritten as a matrix product,
\[ \begin{bmatrix} \, x_1x_2-y_1y_2 \, \\ \, y_1x_2+y_2x_1 \, \end{bmatrix} = \begin{bmatrix} \, x_1 \, \\ \, y_1 \, \end{bmatrix}x_2 + \begin{bmatrix} \, -y_1 \, \\ \, x_1 \, \end{bmatrix} y_2 = \begin{bmatrix} \, x_1 & -y_1 \, \\ \, y_1 & x_1 \, \end{bmatrix} \begin{bmatrix} \, x_2 \, \\ \, y_2 \, \end{bmatrix}. \]
These matrices commute, as required:
\[ z_1 z_2 = \begin{bmatrix} \, x_1 & -y_1 \, \\ \, y_1 & x_1 \, \end{bmatrix} \begin{bmatrix} \, x_2 \, \\ \, y_2 \, \end{bmatrix} = \begin{bmatrix} \, x_2 & -y_2 \, \\ \, y_2 & x_2 \, \end{bmatrix} \begin{bmatrix} \, x_1 \, \\ \, y_1 \, \end{bmatrix} = z_2 z_1. \]
Because a complex number has more structure than an ordinary vector, a more complete picture is given by thinking of a complex number as a matrix. That is,
\[ z = x + iy \implies \begin{bmatrix} \, x & -y \, \\ \, y & x \, \end{bmatrix} \equiv Z, \]
where $Z$ denotes the matrix form of the complex number $z$. Using this notation, addition is
\[ Z_1 + Z_2 = \begin{bmatrix} \, x_1 & -y_1 \, \\ \, y_1 & x_1 \, \end{bmatrix} + \begin{bmatrix} \, x_2 & -y_2 \, \\ \, y_2 & x_2 \, \end{bmatrix} = \begin{bmatrix} \, x_1 + x_2 & -(y_1+y_2) \, \\ \, y_1+y_2 & x_1+x_2 \, \end{bmatrix}, \]
and multiplication is
\[ Z_1 Z_2 = \begin{bmatrix} \, x_1 & -y_1 \, \\ \, y_1 & x_1 \, \end{bmatrix} \begin{bmatrix} \, x_2 & -y_2 \, \\ \, y_2 & x_2 \, \end{bmatrix} = \begin{bmatrix} \, x_1x_2-y_1y_2 & -(y_1x_2+y_2x_1) \, \\ \, y_1x_2+y_2x_1 & x_1x_2-y_1y_2 \, \end{bmatrix}. \]
The inverse of $z$,
\[z^{-1} = \left( \frac{x}{x^2 + y^2}, \frac{-y}{x^2+y^2} \right), \]
is found simply from the inverse of the matrix $Z$:
\[Z^{-1} = \frac{1}{x^2+y^2} \begin{bmatrix} \, x & y \, \\ \, -y & x \, \end{bmatrix}.\]

The invariants of the matrix $Z$ are related in simple ways to quantities of interest associated with the complex number $z$. The rank of $Z$, $\operatorname{rank}(Z) = 2$, indicates that the complex plane is two-dimensional. The modulus of $z$ is the square root of the determinant of $Z$:
\[ |z| = \sqrt{\det (Z)} = \sqrt{x^2 + y^2}. \]
The real part of $z = x+iy$, $\Re(z) = \Re(x+iy) = x$, is calculated from the trace of $Z$,
\[ \Re(z) = \frac{1}{2} \operatorname{tr} \left(Z\right) = x. \]
Similar to the sum form of $z = x+iy$, the matrix $Z$ may be written as a sum of a symmetric and skew-symmetric matrix,
\[ Z = x \begin{bmatrix} \, 1 & 0 \, \\ \, 0 & 1 \, \end{bmatrix} + y \begin{bmatrix} \, 0 & -1 \, \\ \, 1 & 0 \, \end{bmatrix} = x + yC, \]
where $C$ is the complementary operator, the matrix form of the imaginary number $i$, and $x$ multiplies the identity matrix, the matrix form of $1$.

Evidently, these matrices $\{ 1, C \}$ are the generating elements of the matrix representation of the field of complex numbers. That is, they play a role equivalent to that of basis vectors in an ordinary vector space: every matrix representation of a complex number can be written as a linear combination of these 'basis matrices.' This is interesting, because the set of $2\times 2$ matrices forms a ring, but not a field; matrix multiplication does not in general commute.

PNW rain

http://www.oregonlive.com/portland/index.ssf/2010/06/june_is_wettest_on_record_--_a.html

Seriously, it hasn't been that rainy here.  I mean, there has been SOME rain, but not that much. If this is more than Feb + March + April, then the legend of the great deluge of PNW rain (even in December) can't be that intense. 

That's okay.  Let's keep up the stigma and keep the population from exploding.  Speaking of: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XiLgh9r1GM8&feature=related

This is a video made using our model showing Seattle if current development does certain scenarios in the next 50 y.  That mountain at the bottom is Mt. Ranier, for scale. 

Someone else's 2500$ is burning a hole in my pocket

Today I was given the task of designing one computer for our lab that will run our model awesomely for the next four years and a budget of about $2500.00 to get it. OSU will order it with their other stuff so shipping is not an issue.  The interesting thing is that the model is actually going to start to run on a computers GPU (not CPU!) within the next year. And am I surprised to say that this model was designed at GA Tech-- where all the good starcraft players went, I hear.  However, old versions of the model can still be run on the CPU.

Of course I contacted the guy who runs the model and he told me sort of what kind of motherboard and stuff we would need, but he also suggested we get a laptop so we can take it to the field.

I am a little skeptical of that-- it doesn't seem like you can fit lots of awesome into a laptop as you could in a PC.

If I had my druthers, I would get us a nice PC for about 1500 including a giant monitor for the main model and a smaller one for a secondary model.  Then I would get us a nice laptop and another monitor for about 1000.00. The PC would run the model and simulations, and the laptop would go to the field and run there.  I think I could do this well, considering we get almost all software in our lab for free (MatLab, SAS, ArcGIS, you name it), but I think the assignment is one computer.

Obviously I am kind of a tool and know very little about this, but since I'm the finance one I've somehow fallen into this role. Hmmm. Suggestions are welcome...

As for the model intensity, it took them (on a quad core intel) a full day to run the last simulation with the iterations between periods being parsed by days.  Subordinate 2 (I got another one!) and I will need to parse by hours, and maybe minutes, to do what we want to do (we want to layer in this particular c14 data we're taking to track cold carbon through the air during nightfall)... so we need some POWER,

Today I found while running

A giant field full of daisies and thuja.  It was so big I was running on hilly single track through daisies for about 10 minutes.

I am in the mood to do some yoga.  I think I have my zen back.  But I have meetings all day!

Some serious academia right here.

That, my friend, is BALONEY SANDWICHES

Glimpses of the Beav Culture?

-Glimpse 1- This morning after meeting #1 the subordinate and I went to talk to BRORB about getting a car to go to the woods.  Clearly she was busy at work, because she was reading a blog online entitled How to Catch a Salmon. Of course we had to hassle her about this.  We found out it was because there is an upcoming meeting with the bigwigs of the FS.  And that meeting is a salmon fishing trip. Because that's just how they roll out here.  Although admittedly in SC, deer hunting was a prime meeting territory for FS bigwigs.  We actually had to learn how to clean deer and how to navigate food plots- not so much for wildlife management, but for networking.

-Glimpse 2- After lunch, Subordinate and I went to another meeting, which we were a bit early for... we were told to wait at the front desk because the forest service employees hadn't finished their yoga session yet.  Yes. The hardcore salmon fishers also have a daily yoga time.

I'm not kidding. This is where I live.  I love it!

... and on a side note, you can listen to NPR's All Things Considered streaming online! This discovery has just made working long hours at the computer significantly better.  I do love NPR, but All Things Considered is my favorite of the NPR programs-- it has so much variety and really interesting interviews-- everything from book reviews to national news.

... and on another side note my Subordinate is going to China this summer for three weeks to dig up mushrooms with his fiancee.  OSU has one of the top mycology programs in the nation (I think maybe Berkeley is more famous as a mycology school) and they are looking at similar fungal climates across the globe.  Apparently its some sort of ecological study based out of a city in the southwest that will send them to several different cities across the country.  I thought this was a very cool project (although it is not his project).  Come on OSU! Send me abroad, too!

I had a revelation this morning, and then I accidentally removed most of my toenail

I couldn't think of a better title. Don't worry, my toe is OK.  But maybe I shouldn't try to cut my toenails and think at the same time. Blonde hair has its downsides. It'll grow back.

Anyhow, so I was thinking this morning when I woke up, which I think was spurned by the fact that my damn blender broke and it was going "EE" every time I tried to blend my marionberries into breakfast. I was so annoyed at it, because my heart was all set on having marionberries and now I had to subside for the second best thing, a banana, which tastes nothing like marionberries at all.  I bought my berries frozen and without a microwave, heating them up is kind of a slow process, especially since this is Oregon, so it's about 45 degrees out in the morning in the summer. Anyhow, I had my banana (and some raisins) and I drove to the EPA building thinking to myself about the giant frickin' cow that I saw this morning while running.  I don't think I've ever seen a cow up close that wasn't a bull in Germany that I was running AWAY from. These were safe cows, behind fences, and most importantly: udders, not horns.  I realized also as I was running: the field behind my house is most definitely a wheat field, not a grass field as I imagined earlier.  The grains are developing on the grasses now and it's very evident that it will be harvested later in the year into wheat products.

I guess the synergy of all the three things made me think: first, the cow was very endearing, and it was (alone) on a field about the same size as the giant wheat field.  The giant wheat field was just full of waving grasses.  And I was upset about my marionberries.  Suddenly I felt really like a huge jerk.  Here I was, upset because I couldn't have my special kind of cross-blended-Oregon-extravaganza berries.  There was a cow, using up a whole field. And there was a wheat field, growing plentifully.  I felt sort of ashamed at myself, and at that culture I haven't come to shake completely; I, like whoever put that cow on that field to make meat, was not thinking of my own luxury as above communal economy.  I wanted something special, when the fact of the matter was... there was something plentiful all around me. Fail economics lesson number 1.

Now, I'm not saying eating cows is bad. I've certainly eaten my share of cows.  And I know that many cultures rely on cow products for food.  But I'm saying that the cow caused something to came to my mind, and at least was a lesson in humility, and I can say for certain that I definitely need my daily dose of humility because I have way too much pride, so I guess it was good.  So I blog about this so that I will remember it and think about it, as I am doing now.

I guess what I'm saying is, I can go to the Fred Meyer and walk down an entire AISLE of just various flavors of chip foods. But there are places in the world where people can barely get by. It was very humbling.In fact, I was so astonished at this thought I nearly cut off my toenail, and the story ends where it begins, eh?

Sounds like a wonderful place

Over there in the Carolinas...

Why I really should remember to change my oil before a long drive

I don't think about it much, well, okay I do think about it much, but San Francisco is kind of far away. Not that far, but far enough that I should probably check my oil before i drive. Right, I know, truly I am like Einstein and can barely remember to wear socks, but hey, at least it is like Einstein. But I should really check my oil.  Maybe even change it.  Damn you miniserve-- I forget because I don't have to get out of the car at gas stations anymore-- my routine is off. Anyhow, it's sort of nerve-wracking to be driving through the balls to the wall hot Sacramento valley with no rest stops for the next 1000000 miles (roughly until you hit a near earth orbiting object) and thinking, well, I am not sure if my car will make it, and if I turn on the air, I am really not sure if the car will make it, but at this heat I am not sure if I will make it. Hmmm... to dehydrate or to explode. The choices are yours and yours alone (and if you make it through the hidden temple than on the other side you could win this great prize! <-- Nickelodeon, anyone?)

Of course, I made it and notably just past Medford the temperature went from a "I think I might die" about 100 degrees to a nice 73 degrees.  And in Corvallis it was in the mid-60's, as usual. I woke up yesterday feeling like death and wondering why I couldn't cool off even though it was only 58 degrees in the morning time.  Fan-vestment made this much better as well as drinking about 10000 liters of water.  

I woke this morning will all my windows open thinking, well, FINALLY the temperature feels just about right. Come to check the thermometer and it's 43 outside! How wonderful! Clearly I have acclimated to cool weather just in time for summer, right?  Running through the farms in North Corvallis among the fertile grasslands and feeling tempted to pick random blueberries and strawberries along the way, I was (although I do love California) glad to be "home."  I think maybe I've just got a little bit of mountains in my soul or something. There's something about all the greenery and the cool, fresh air that really just makes me feel like I am in-synch with the world. And I don't mean that like the teeny-bopper band from 1995.  I mean, it is just so nice to feel "cool" when I step outside, and to see the maritime layer slowly drifting overhead towards the Cascades, knowing that I'll have this beautiful, spotted sky morning and an afternoon drizzle, and a sunset that would 18th century poets jealous. I am sure that if I have to fully acclimate to CA at some point in my life it will not be the end of the world, and I can certainly see myself adjusting to having to see the ocean every day, but there's just something about green hills and mountains that makes me feel happy and alpine. It's like I'm back in Germany again... 

I have this song in my head, which is by David Crowder Band, called "glorious."  I was thinking of it as I ran along in the farms, because it's sort of a great chorus to the West in reference to it's nature.  It's kind of dumb and just a series of 3rd grade rhymes, but I like it: 

"The day is brighter here with you, the night is lighter than its hue, which leads me to believe... which leads me to believe... you make everything glorious, you make everything glorious..." 

You know, the woods and the grasslands are nice no matter where you are (even SC, it is nice to be up in the woods or out in the meadows, or at least, preferable to not being in them), but out here it's just so much more extreme.  And in Brisbane, on San Bruno mountain, running through the dry oats and by the mystery-holly, it is the same-- well, it's different because you are in massive pain from the hill, but overall you are happy... your skin just feels better... that may sound stupid.  But it's true, you know, and when it's nighttime and it should be terrifying, like in SC, it's not really... it's just sort of peaceful. Here and in Brisbane.  Here and in everywhere I've been out here. I feel like the night is what it is supposed to be here, not scary, but restful.  "A great, warm curtain goes around everything-- has always been there, will always remain."  Did I mention William Stafford is from Portland?  And that his family is involved with the Andrews writers project?  And am I even the slightest bit surprised to find this out? ... :) 

My windows are open and I am drinking about a pound of frozen marionberries and blueberries from a nearby farm blended into the best local and organic smoothie known to mankind. It's about 50 degrees out. I am chatting with a GIS person from OSU via email about the best way to set up transects.  I can hear (although I can't identify) a bunch of birds outside. I mean, this is my job! Talk about the landscape, be in the landscape, learn more and more. I never thought growing up that I could just be sort of happy where I am and who I am.... but I think this is it.  

Picture

I got a feeling

that this driving test is going to be really hard. All these questions are about driving in snow!  Come on, OR... I know it snows in 2/3 of you, but 2/3 of the population lives in the corridor! I do not know what legislation enforces the use of snow chains!

On a side note, did you know that the road is "most slippery" when "it is icy, and the temperature is near freezing?"  I would have said, "it is icy, and the temperature is at least 15 degrees below freezing"... but what does evidence (Dixie National Forest) and units of measurement (just how exactly does one measure "slippery") count?

No tiers, no tears

This week in my email I have gotten some notices from our department head about this program they do here called the Safe Space Program. I have seen signs for it all over campus, the city, and even in Salem. Apparently people, businesses, etc. can all participate in these workshops in order to get placards for their offices that say that they are friendly to people of non-traditional sexual affiliation. I know, I know, I'm definitely not of that persuasion myself. But I've had friends that were, and I've seen a lot of people semi-persecuted by traditional groups about their choices in this manner, and for some reason it's really very sickening to me. So I think it's very cool that our department head openly invites people to be a part of this program, and moreover, that many people responded to the need to participate.

Maybe I've still got too much residual southern-ness left in my mind, but it's really beautiful to see how non-judgmental people are out here. Wow, "judgmental" doesn't have an "e" in it? Strange. Anyway.

I was thinking for the past few moments about how I think this is one of my favorite things about OR, actually. One thing that impressed me a lot about the trip out here was that no one tried to show me a "good time" in the traditional sense. It was much more humble; stay at BRORB's place, with no heat, eating food from the garden and making 11 espresso shots in the morning, learning how to wash mushrooms "the right way" and hiking around campus in the rain with people I had never met, generally just a very "down to earth" kind of experience. I think it really characterizes the place, though-- it's just very down to earth. Also I have noticed that no one really "looks down" on grad students condescendingly. Sure, the professors are obviously smarter and more experienced, but they seem to be much more apt to take the role of friendly guidespeople. Which actually makes them seem much more wise than condescending professors...

OR has a lot to offer with it's awesome landscape and all, but I think that maybe it's biggest selling point is the attitude... maybe it's the rain or something.

I didn't sleep well last night

I was worried about stuff so I woke up feeling like a pile of poo. So I decided to take the day to have an adventure and I hiked up Mt. St. Helens! It was very neat! Glad to be home, now, though-- that road was really rough and a little scary at times.

*edit: I didn't hike up the whole thing. Just a little part.

x2 just got an email from JoA that our article is past the first round! One more to go, I think.

Today I watched Ironman 2...

... while highlighting the data for this project. No, I'm not kidding. I put Ironman 2 on one screen and Excel on the other. I held down the mouse button for 94/112.5 minutes, only to find that 94 minutes of data (even though it was just one vector! I didn't even do the other columns) was too much for the computer to "copy."

I mean, there is nothing like a little good ol' fashioned copy paste to make you wish you could just press the little "select all button" without killing your computer.

Just another description of the land...

One of the programs we run in the forest is something called the Long-Term Ecological Reflections Program. It's a program designed to teach humanities majors how to do science. Apparently, selected humanities majors from various schools get to come to the woods with regional authors (big time ones, like Kim Stafford, wow!) and help us collect data, sort of like the Christmas bird counts, but on a much smaller scale. Additionally, they are alloted times and places to go into the woods and "reflect" in writing about the woods, so that they can get humanities credit, as well. I think it's a neat idea because it helps to bridge that gap between loving nature (who doesn't!) and learning science (I didn't know crap about science as an English major-- sampling? what's that?). The guy who runs the program says that he keeps a repository of any works about Oregon reflections that these students write. I like that point. Nature writing, although not science, is a nice popular bridge to science. I think it's good to write about what we see in the environment and how beautiful it is. Maybe it was in one of those Malcolm Gladwell books where he talked about the snow-covered mountains in Montana. If you went every year to look at the mountain, you wouldn't notice the snow-cap receding. But take a 25 year break and when you come back, you'll know that its gone. Nature writing serves as an accessible "jog" for ecological consciousness; it's a reminder that the world is big and good, but fragile and precarious. Which is why I will write this, so that I can remember it.

I heard a joke from a lady I met in the forest the other day; we were talking along the lines of a "you know you are _____ if" jokes, and she said a common Oregon joke is, "you know you are Oregonian if you can point out at least two volcanoes without being able to see any of them!"

She, of course, was referring to the perpetually complex, cloudy sky that enshrouds the corridor. I told her that in other places of the world, we wish we had that nice cloudy sky instead of frigid winter days and humid, mosquito-ridden summers.

"I'm from Long Island," she said (I'm not oblique, but she had no accent of long-island-ish-ness). "Fred's from Dover." It was sort of an "I understand" statement, empathizing with the silly weather that dominates the Atlantic shore. We shared a sort of warm-eyed moment of conversion, the kind that you see people get after a long lunch with an old friend.

"I'm sorry," I said. We laughed. But this is not the point of the story.

Summers in Oregon have been described as being the best summers in the country. I'm not sure where I heard that and it could have been in some pro-Oregonian propaganda, but you know what, as the joke goes, 99% of statistics are made up on the spot. Again, tangent. Even if they aren't REALLY statistically, "the best," they are relatively clear, cool, and we don't have mosquitos here at all. Or at least that is what another forest-y friend told me. So, on those merits alone they certainly beat South Carolina. No more ticks trying to get their "Twilight" on.

So yesterday the summer season began. I had spent quite a long time staring at some data trying to make sense of why I was getting an autocorrelation signal in the DEM_10 slope and elevation data. My brain was fried, so I decided I would drive over the Willamette to the little town of Albany, which isn't particularly impressive as a town, but the Willamette bridges are very cool. They're all made of.... I don't really know what this is... that structural looking kind of steel, and of course since Oregon is bike-friendly there are plenty of walking paths. Sounds like a good, free way to spend an hour or so. Well, my drive to Albany took me towards the Cascades (in a general eastern direction). One of the few things I didn't like about my house when I first got here was that I couldn't see both mountain ranges. Then I realized that if I went out on Conifer and turned left(to Albany) not right (to Corvallis), I came out on the eastern side of town with the Cascades in full view. Those things are so magnificent that even on a cloudy day I can see most of them. But on a sunny day... wow... it's like they just go back forever. I could see back to the ones with snow-peaks on them.

I was intending to come up with some really good description for this, but I can't really do it very good justice. So I'll just give it a crapshot. I guess it sort of looks like the Badlands how we saw them, on a semi-cloudy day. There's a bunch of field and then there are layers of pale color where the sunlight is coming through the clouds and hitting the mountains at all different angles and on all different surfaces.

One of the best things about being a forester, although I guess technically I'm an forest ecologist now (I like that much better, to be honest-- more loving, less chopping), is that my job is literally to figure out why beautiful places are beautiful. So going to a national park or a walk in the woods, that's "work" for me. Everything that nature does it does for a reason. Form fitting function. BRORB called ecology a "fractal" once, and I think (knowing very little about fractals) that this is a great description-- the complexity remains on every level you look at. So let me tell what I saw from the point of a forest ecologist, which is part of why it is so beautiful to me. Looking to the east, I saw the Cascades in deep-glory. Much of their rock is andesitic, which means it's from volcanic origin, mostly red breccia, green tuft, and black basalt. So the colors of the stone are bright, and very from being very coarse looking to being vitric. As for the trees, there are some hardwoods, mostly alders along the streams, but the majority of the landscape is the dark green Douglas-fir on the ridge tops, and western hemlock (the more "heavy looking" evergreen tree) on the side slopes. There is also the Pacific Yew, it's a sort of furry, skinny tree that looks very Triassic. It makes me particularly happy because it is a medicinal plant. And then of course sword blade fern, Oregon grape (the yellow flower, you also have it in SF, that grows on hills), and salal ivy in the understory. So imagine, all these shades of green and black and red, being hit by literal rays of sunlight that are breaking out of purple clouds. And then add to that at least four rainbows... I'm not kidding, there is sort of a perpetual mid-afternoon rainbow thing that goes on to the east side of the corridor. I guess when the afternoon clouds pass to the Cascades and the sun breaks low in the western sky, it hits the rain just right... but that's just a guess. Or maybe it's magic. I don't know. Maybe I'll just say it's magic for my own sake of wonder. You know, it's sort of like looking at my Excel spreadsheet of data-- you can see a set of numbers on the sheet and say, well, that's a big tree, or wow, that percolation pattern sure looks complicated, but until you see the tree or write out that big honking equation, you don't really see that sort of overarching glory and order. I can see how being really good at mathematics and being into ecology are similar; the idea of having some beautiful partition function or old-growth doug-fir that summarizes just a mass-load of data kind of carries across. To me, this synopsis in tangible form sort of makes me feel a relief, sort of an "ah, yes, you know, I think that this whole world makes some sense after all." I get the feeling maybe deep down the whole "tending toward entropy thing" is fundamentally scary. Finding order in disorder brings relief; finding hierarchy or pattern above order brings enrapturement. A lot could be said about the "system" to this theory, but for another day.

So back to the afternoon. There was only one thing to do. Take full advantage of the sun break and go for a Cascades tour. I should mention the other glorious thing on this journey, which is not the Cascades, but actually the farms. Other than the brief post-college stint in Atlanta, I've been living within eye-shot of farms for about eight years now, and I've come to really appreciate them. Even the ugly ones in SC are a good reminder of the agricultural industry, and the fact that the bulk of America is still largely used for agriculture or rangeland. I would take a farm over a suburb anyday. Here, the main crops are grass, orchids, mint, and berries. So our farms are just these waving, brilliant green grasslands, sometimes spotted with yellow dots of orchid buds or purple and blue berries. There's a clover farm a mile or so up the road that is filled with white clover blossoms. So all up I-5 there are these undulating green lands, with maybe the occasional old farm house or half-run down irrigation equipment filling in the idealism. (Yes, I realize the irony of having irrigation equipment in OR, too. I have no idea why it's there. I know nothing about growing non-woody plants, except that I like to eat them, and horses do, too. Thankfully, correlation does not necessarily imply sameness).

Occasionally, the green farms break for brown, rocky soils. BRORB told me that Oregon looks almost exactly like Greece (I wouldn't know) and that, like Greece, the brown, rocky soils have deep underground resevoirs that make growing grapes and nuts possible. Another major crop here is hazelnuts, so interspersed between the green fields are just rows and rows of hazelnuts (filberts) trees. Now imagine taking this in at 65 miles per hour. It's just a sensory rush. And then you look up ahead and there are two snow capped volcanoes-- Mt. Hood and Mt. St. Helens-- just hanging out on the horizon, kind of saying, hey, we made it like this. We made this fertile soil when we blasted a bunch of rich minerals right out of the ground. And the Willamette and its tributaries are babbling cleanly along the side of the road. It's sort of arguing, you mountains, that was all me and my silty deposits. Well, you can't hear the babble as you drive, but you know it's there. You can smell it. And that river does seem kind of boastful.

So this is where that joke comes into play-- my forested accomplice noted that an Oregonian can find a volcano without ever being able to see it. That's a nice joke and all, but the truth is, this place is so fertile and stunning that even two volcanoes seem to be a trivial afterthought following a description of the land. Once I was in a music class in high school and we played a piece called Cataclysm. It was this caustic symphony dedicated to the St. Helens eruption. It was dramatic and fast, a very exciting piece. The next year, we got this tremendously slow (and much more famous) piece called "The Planets" to play. Cataclysm was cool, but The Planets was mind-blowing. I guess it's sort of like that, a beautiful landscape, it's a slow ode to order in an entropic world.

Watershed!

See that stream ^^, that is where I work. The forest up here is mind-bogglingly beautiful. Which is not REALLY a word, but you get the idea. I'd say the environment looks very similar from a distance to the area around Shasta, but when you get into the forest it's just filled with ferns, moss, and these babbling streams over volcanic rocks. Our area doesn't get any snow, but snow caps the mountains at the higher elevations. As the director of NSF affairs joked with me, "wow, I think you have chosen the best place ever to HAVE to do your research" I couldn't agree more.

I was thinking yesterday about the crowning achievement idea. I guess somewhere in my heart I wish and have always wished that I had a life-long goal that I took a straight towards. I had a friend who wanted to be a vet since she was 3. And now she is. Or my father, wanting to live in Atlanta, where his mother is... and he does. Or some people ( :) ) who made it to California after working so hard for seven years. It took me a bit of reflection to realize, I am in awe of this kind of dedication, so much that I am almost jealous of it. Okay, maybe I am jealous of it. Which is OK if it spurns me to action, but needs to be acknowledged and controlled. Like anything. I am very stubborn, and I've got to watch myself from being a big asshole, especially after a DMV encounter. I think to myself, if I could dedicate that kind of time to a goal, I would be a successful person. I get angry with myself for not having ever had that dedication, only aimless wanderings. I never said when I was younger, "I want to live in western Oregon." In fact, I think I only really acknowledged the presence of Washington, and I did have a fascination with Puget Sound, but certainly a goal of Oregon was not really in the books.

For me, it's more about remembering a little of the past, I guess. When I was really little, about five or so, we had a house in the Appalachian mountains we used to go to every weekend. We only had it for a few years, but I remember I was really struggling with OCD at the time and therefore having trouble in school with the teacher (it's kindergarten, eh, not that much work). I really had my first distaste for EC then-- at home I could be "smart" and do kitchen top experiments and my father would teach me all about radio waves (to no end did I hear about why AM waves were a poor choice for the mountains)-- but in school I spent a good bit of time in the corner because I couldn't deal with the texture of laying on my kidnapper during naptime. It smelled like hotdogs in there to the point of distraction. At the mountain house, there this wet, mountainy smell everywhere (yes, probably mildew) and I could wake up and go outside and just run through these sumac woods under the pine canopy. There were snails everywhere, and trails, and trees to climb, and just stuff everywhere to explore. I guess an analogy would be that EC would be kind of like milk, and the mountains would be kind of like a fine wine-- complex and biting. In my mind, mountains in general were synonymous with freedom, which is not to say much, since I was 5 and clearly my senses were not refined. Still, it was engrained in me that when the sky is heavy and it smells of firs (all Abies smell the same IMO), the world is sharper and better.

As a "grown up" I say that forest is a pinnacle for me-- since I escaped UGA I have been trying to do anything I could to work in nature. Specifically in the woods. I have expressed that to me even the eastern woods have a complex story to tell; they are not beautiful, but they do spin a great tale! When I left UGA I applied to 147 jobs ( I counted) until I got one of them... my boss had never gone to college... I remember him telling me, "if you do well, one day you could have your own store in a mall and make 40000 a year." Geez. Rog gave me a wake up call and I sat down at the basement counter and I wrote out "Mission Mountain"-- it was 2007 and my goal was to be in the mountains by 2010. I guess it worked out, although in a truly K manner it worked out much more because of fortuitious circumstances than because of hard work. As much as I'd wish I could say, leave it to fortune and let work be damned, the fact is, both are important, and work moreso.

The point of this long ramble is this: in the picture above, there's a beautiful stream! I live there. My job is to go out into the woods and learn more about them-- how they work, what story they tell, how they look, what their jobs are, who do they associate with? In some metonymic way, I see myself in the Appalachian mountains, watching a slug break down a leaf. That's my job-- listen to the story that the mountain forest tells! And that... is just plain awesome.

With our powers combined...

Apparently, happiness is earning $60,000 a year. And, with our powers combined, we're at...$51,000 a year. Pretty close! Now, the trick will be to actually live in the same area (or even the same state!) so that we can purchase some happiness...

(Random thought of the day: my little brother makes more than me and my wife, combined. Well...dang.)

All I wanted to do was figure out how to do something in "R"

Google FAIL.

:vent::

Hmmm... this morning was one of those kind of mornings.

First of all. It was sunny.

So I was just enjoying my new bed rather throughly and had the windows drawn, effectively blocking out Oregon's best alarm system, the glowing morning sky (I'd say "sun," but really even a "sunny" day means, well, about 20% of the sky is blue). Late for me, at 6:39 am, I awoke. Today I was planning on getting my license changed to OR. Which means, of course, I had to beat the DMV rush. I had planned on getting in a run at 5, as I usually do, but clearly I've been up until 2 am for too many nights building furniture and reviewing trigonometry (damn me for understanding the proofs for cosh and sinh at 1 am!) So instead I rushed to the DMV for some queue hopping. Of course, the line was already forming when I got there. I have no idea why, but I feel like DMV's are always extremely busy-- even when they are not open, they are busy.

I take my spot in line, only a few people back, and I wait. I have a 10:30 at work to get to. Luckily I am person A3 (so creative with numbers there, huh?) and get to the front quickly. I have brought with me the manila envelope of life, which contains every single valuable document I have: birth certificate, passport, registration of car, insurance cards, documentation for legal assistance with the accident I was in a few years ago and the renewal of charges against me, medical forms, you name it, it's there. I get to the front to talk to the lady.

"Where's your car title?" she asks.

"Well, it's in my safety deposit box," I tell her.

"Why is it there?"

"To keep it safe."

"Well, you'll need your title to change your registration," she tells me. Okay, fine. Well, it's in Atlanta, in Decatur to be specific. It's been there for as long as I can remember, because we've been banking with Wachovia since we lived in Decatur and never changed our boxes. Was I planning on getting the contents of my box forwarded to Wells Fargo up here? Yes. Had I done this yet? No. I mean, my parents haven't changed their boxes from Decatur in the past 25 years! Clearly we are not on the game with safety deposit boxes.

"Okay, well, it's in Georgia," I say.

"That's okay. We can do the license now and you can come back for that later." That's a little inconvenience, but I figured that I could probably get that done in a lunch hour, since it's just returning some forms. In fact, I saw the same forms online, and was sure I could just mail some copies in. Doing it in person would be nice because I could do the emissions test at the office, but heck, emissions tests are the same no matter where you go.

I pull out my GA license, birth certificate, passport, marriage certificate, SS card. And a blank check, because I know it will cost me. Little did I know...

"I need a proof of residence," she says.

"Right, okay, here's my lease."

"This is a signed copy," she tells me.

"Yes," I reply. Really? I hadn't figured that one out.

"We need the original lease, or a work order for bills in the mail, or a credit card bill, or your vehicle registration." Now how that works is beyond me, since you have to be a resident to register your vehicle... Somehow, though, this made sense to her.

"Okay, well, here's my work order from Qwest," I tell her, pulling out the documentation I received in the mail. It has my name, address, account number, even my WPA code. Woman, don't you steal that!

She looks at it for a moment. "They didn't install your modem."

"Nope, they just mail it to you and you plug it in. Self-installation."

"I can't accept this if they didn't come to install your modem," she replies smugly.

"So you are telling me, if I let someone come to my house and install my modem, you could accept this, but you can't accept the work order with my account number and name and address."

"Nope," she grins. It is her joy in life to make me miserable and annoyed. "What about a delivery?" Oh, she asked for it this time. I have just the thing for you, Ms. DMV.

I go into the trunk. The boxes from the desk at IKEA are in there. To be an annoying person, I pull out the largest box and drag it into the office. It's at least 7 feet long and about 3 deep. It's been compressed, but I am sure to unfurl it.

"Here's my name and address," I say, pointing to the UPS label. I lay the box all over her desk top, being sure to move her pens around and knock about a few papers. If she hadn't taken such joy in my unhappiness maybe I would have been nicer, but clearly this was a little extreme, so I felt like she deserved a bit of annoying. Hammarabi's annoyance or something.

"That label was printed by UPS," she tells me. "You need a hand-written label." Oh, good. Because everyone uses hand-written labels now-a-days. Especially UPS. It's so convenient. Everyone is doing it. I feel tempted to go to the car, peel off the UPS label, and write myself a label on the box. Clearly she would figure this out, though. "You could bring me your credit card statement."

"I bank online," I tell her. "Reduce my carbon footprint." (That's Oregon slang for "see, I am one of you!") It was the last trick in the book, and it usually works well. At the produce stand, you say that and they give you a discount for not using a bag! Say it to a professor and they look at you like you are smart. Go downtown to the outdoor outfitters and mention carbon to fit in! Apparently Ms. DMV doesn't care about carbon, though. I guess she likes a heavy footprint.

"You need an original copy of your credit card statement, from the company."

"So you are asking me to change all my preferences, wait for my next statement to come in the mail, and then show this to you?"

"Yes," she tells me, as if this is something that anyone and everyone should do. "Do you have a selective service registration?"

Oh, sure. Does the Forest Service count? What about the you've-got-served service? "I mean, what do you really want me to do about this?" I ask, completely frustrated.

"If I were you, I'd go back to my lease company and tell them that you need the original lease. Bring that up here. Sterling is just right up the way." Yes, but Sterling is open for roughly .002% of the day, since this is, after all, OR, and people do not go to work at times when it would be more fun to go outside biking... which means anytime before 12 or after 4. All I want is to be a Pour-Again-ian!

"Go ahead and fill out this form for your name change," she tells me, and at least we'll have that on file. I fill it out, not too light-heartedly-- it's a big deal to change your name. Goodbye, Switzerland. There's a lot of random stuff on there, just as paperwork always is. Why do you need my financial information for a name change? I am not sure. I bring it to the counter. "Oh wait," she tells me. "You can't change the name here without an official court order."

"I have marriage license. That is from the court," I tell her.

"Yes, but it's not a court order."

"It is a notarized court form," I tell her. "What else do I need?"

"A court order."

"You've lost me."

"If you want to change your name for marriage, you need to do this paperwork up in the capitol (Salem) and bring it here, or just take it to the DMV in Salem."

GREAT! SALEM! I LOVE SALEM!!! I LOVE DRIVING EXCESSIVE DISTANCES (> 30 miles!) JUST TO DO WHAT I COULD DO 1/2 MILE UP THE STREET.

I take the papers and I leave. I need to be at work anyway. To assuage my pain I go to the produce stand. They sell Stumptown coffee there... and I REALLY need it, even if it is kind of pricey out of Portland. Once out of the DMV Oregon is back to it's general awesomeness. Therefore I conclude with a=0.05 significance that the DMV is in fact an outlier and should be removed from the statistics of Oregon's correlation with greatness. I chug my Stumptown in the car, proceed to find parking (and am glad to know I can still get free spots even at almost 10 am) and dash to the office. Why hello. Good thing it's free coffee Thursday... I need some more of the good stuff.

I think it is a fact that DMVs are the unhappiest places on earth. Well, those and the lobbies of mid-range hotels.

And then there's news in Portland

I've listened to weather forecasts before, but I don't think I've ever listened to a poetic weather forecast.

http://www.oregonlive.com/weather/index.ssf/2010/06/oregon_rain_day_18_you_can_run.html

Well, hello, Portland.

This, of course, comes from what might well be my favorite newspaper... in fact, I am tempted to get it just because I like the writing style so much. I quote from this articles news-blip, "... including the wettest May-- wetter than Astoria!--" to show the random spunk that gets thrown in the Oregonian's regular journalism!

Or try on for size the random news about Oregonians being the country's "second best" drivers:

http://blog.oregonlive.com/commuting/2010/05/thats_right_oregonians_are_sma.html

Notice how the hyperlink goes to "that's right, Oregonians are sma--" (which is for smart).

For real fun journalistic adventures, you can even try out the page on "opinions."

God, I love this state! I am proud to be an Oregonian...or soon to be one!

On a side note, for some reason I have been in a bit of a Samuel Taylor Coleridge mood recently, maybe because a guy in the forest and I got into a long discussion of "what was the best decade for American literature," and although I would probably say myself, 1920's or 1970's, this guy was much more inspired by the mid-to-late 19th century writers (figures, that is the Walden times.... Walden being Thoreau's popular book about his nature adventures that actually occurred right in his own backyard--- literally, he went home so mom could do his laundry each weekend-- read it people!)

Anyway, without further ado, if you feel the need to read some Coleridge and really see what is one of the beacons of assonance/consonance, I encourage this.

For example, the first paragraph, you can almost see the "a" sound running through the text, slowly morphing into an "e" sound-- it's sort of an American stylistic thing, but what it does is it unconciously tells us to make "units" out of areas of the text. It changes the flow of that paragraph.... a little secret of poetry reading, if you will, is that you do not stop at the end of each line as you would in a song. Keep moving, naturally, like it's a paragraph, but take not of the line breaks in your head or if you are reading outloud.... read poetry like this and it's no longer flowery and terrible (sometimes it still is) but it's sort of like a music or something... okay, well, clearly I need my rain now.

If I could have a penny...

If I could have a penny for every bit of data that is randomly floating around the PNW that relates to the carbon budget... I would have a lot of pennies, but I wouldn't be able to find any of them.