An abundance of hugs

This morning I cuddled with my friends' 2 1/2-year-old daughter. She sat on my lap and we read together. Then I picked up her giggling squirming body sideways and did a few bicep curls punctuated by belly kisses. After, I found myself thinking that it was too bad that belly kisses and giggling generally disappeared from an adult world -- only re-introduced when children make an appearance. I missed them. This whole "sexual attraction" thing really messed up a basic joy, something that we should all share.

This must be another reason I'm happy to be back in the Bay Area. My friends here hug. And we hold each other while dancing. But I think even more, it's the hugs. Last night, in a jazz bar, a large group of us hung out together, and joking/hand holding/casual touching/sitting close is just part of that scene. And I know that I've felt better ever since my return.

Science has made it official: people need to be touched. Hugs can make stress less damaging and are especially beneficial for women. A recent study looked at the long-term impact of a childhood without hugs (and other "loving parenting"). Raised in their first years without love, those kids did not develop essential hormones.

Do you have an abundance of hugs? If you have some to spare, spread them around.

face at rest

When I was younger, I noticed that some people looked angry or sad when their faces were at rest. That is, when they weren't thinking about anything in particular -- or at least they didn't look like they were thinking about anything. I noticed this when people were walking down the street. Some people looked like upbeat, but more seemed to be frowning than anything. Still others looked vaguely sad... I felt sorry for them.

I decided that I wanted my face to look friendly and, if possible, to look like I was happy as my normal state. I wanted my natural resting face to be a smile. I thought that would make me more approachable. Part of me wished that most people could have happy resting faces. I don't think I thought I could start a trend or anything, but I knew I wanted to be part of that happy crowd. So I practiced. Whenever I realized I hadn't been thinking about anything in particular, I tried to freeze my face in the expression it had and check if it was frowning or if my lips were tight or anything like that. I consciously relaxed the muscles in my face until I thought I looked unbothered and perhaps even contented. I find I still search through my facial muscles to be sure that they're not tensed up and relax them. I've done this several times while typing this out tonight.

I don't know if it worked or not, but I am frequently the one asked for directions or approached in groups. Maybe it's my unconsciously welcoming and relaxed expression. Maybe more people should have that. Are you frowning now? Have you frowned today? Stop!

The MicroKillers are here!

In case you all have been feeling too calm lately and needed to get nervous about something, I thought you'd like to watch a couple of shows about pandemics. National Geographic is going to air the first two of the MicroKillers series I worked on -- "Ebola" and "Super Flu" -- on November 13 (9pm & 10pm) and 19 (2pm & 3pm). (You'll have to have National Geographic Channel to see them.) That second episode will answer many of the questions I've heard tossed around in the news lately about this whole avian flu & mutation thing. After you watch it, you might be temped to challenge me with: "Are those numbers real?" and "Could that really happen?" I would answer: Absolutely. I was particularly manic on the flu episode to get the epidemiology & mathematics right.

As an added bonus, you might catch my name flying by in the credits after words like "Assistant Director," "Writer," and "Researcher."

Nov 13 schedule
Nov 19 schedule

checking myself in the central valley

The drive from LA to San Francisco crosses through some of the most foreign territory I have ever seen. I can more easily imagine myself living in a rainforest or a desert -- and I don't think it's (just) romanticism or ignorance. I've been to those places. Perhaps it is ignorance of the central valley. I simply can't imagine what I would do there. It is also an environment in which I expect the natives to be utterly, unmovably hostile to one of my kind. In my mind they believe things I can never support, they remain dogmatically closed-minded in the face of information. They will judge me. Perhaps because I enter their world with a bias written across my face, glinting off the nose ring. I judge them without knowing them. I remember the times I have tried to reach out and have had bibles thrown at my head -- (true story) -- and I take these episodes and extrapolate them unfairly across landscapes barely populated by people I've never met. In those times I always managed to find some way to communicate, have actually managed to find commonalities, but I came away exhausted, drained.

I do not want to be doing that much work as I head north to restart my life. At some point, even in a gas-sipping Tercel, it is necessary to exit my iPod-filled environment and venture out into a tiny slice of this world. A gas-station perched on the edge of it. A business catering to those of us who just pass through. A place where the workers really only talk to each other because they never expect to see any of us again. A world low on "regulars." ... or at least that's what I think. My liberal, mediating, diplomatic, one-world-lovin' self is wrapped tight in her stereotypes, pumping gas in the heat of the Central Valley. An enormous truck with tires half the size of my car pulls in, towing an aluminum motorboat. Looks like fishin' time. An older man materializes from the driver's side, dressed in camouflage with sunglasses and a hat pulled fairly low. The contrast between our vehicles is comical, but we're hooked in to the same pump, opposite sides. We both start for the handle of the windshield washer at the same time. I step back with a gesture saying "go ahead" and he startles me completely with a warm smile and a soft voice. He says, "No. No. You go ahead." And he means it. No taunting. Nothing but a big beaming smile and a gentlemanly moment. And I think I really have to check myself because that was totally unexpected. I have moved so far away from expecting goodness in this place that I was caught off guard. It is sad to be startled by a smile.

I finish and pass the squeegee on to him. I smile. He gives me another smile and a thanks. I am done, and I pull away, knowing he would still be there pumping gas into that tank for a while. Perhaps he thought about that, too, knowing he could wait. Or perhaps he's just a nice guy with a good smile and a sweet voice who was there to make me think a little.