What I learned on Facebook the weekend of 2/19/11!!

 (Facebook.   You gotta love the banter.)

All quotes were copied and pasted from Facebook exactly as they were written.

Kelly Z. had Edward Abbey over for dinner, but I wasn’t invited.  Besides, I thought that guy died a couple of decades ago along with the rest of the Monkey Wrench gang.  Bon appétit.

Patricia H. told everyone “Good night…..xoxo”.  

I love getting kisses from strangers, as long as the tests don’t come back positive.

The Toronto Raptors reports that “DeMar DeRozan put down two impressive dunks in the 2011 Sprite Slam Dunk Contest on Saturday, but it wasn't enough to the finals, where Blake Griffin took the crown.”  

I had been wondering about this event for months, wrote it in my appointment book, but then forgot to watch it.  Nice reporting Raptors.

 

Sherry C. R. told us that “Marie Antoinette was beheaded for less….” in response to a political outrage by another FB poster.  That poor French girl’s head has been used in this way for 200 years.  I suggest we let the poor thing rest in peace and not use her “la tête” for a while.

 

Darcie G. warns her friends “who so kindly insist on setting me up with their dear friends: I will make it easy. Think Denzel Washington, Luis Miguel, Adam Rodriguez and Mof Def all wrapped into one. Ready, set go ... ; )”  

I had to google Mof Def to find out who he is.  But then I learned that Darcie G. misspelled his first name.  It is Mos Def, but I still didn’t know who he was.  Here is the scoop: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mos_Def.  Darcie G., you will not get fixed up with a cool guy if you can’t remember his first name.  Guys are funny that way.

 

“DO NOT COPY or download to your computer without prior written permission from Jack R. B.”  

This guy had a nice photo of a male Hooded Merganser, but I can’t show it to you, due to his warning.

 

David A. warns Sean:  “Sean, look at what the GOP House is passing. This is what they'll do if they win the Presidency and Senate. These aren't cosmetic differences. They're the difference between neoliberal (admittedly bad) and batshit insane.”  

Now, I’ve been a mammalogist for about 40 years, but I knew nothing about bat shit making you insane.  Exactly how does that work?

 

Mark L. asks “Anyone remember what this green stuff underneath the snow is called?” 

Mark L., you must be a student who never sees any money, but you were lucky enough to find a $20 bill.  Way to go buddy.

 

The Ottawa Senators tells us: “Just a reminder to bring a pack of diapers to tonight's game against the Bruins & win great prizes! Check out this amazing cause by learning more at: http://huggies.nhl.com/.”  

Are you kidding me?  I quit carrying diapers around more than 25 years ago, and I’m not starting up again now.  This is why I never attend hockey games.  They are as insane as batshit.

 

Susan S., Margaret H., and 77 others like this!

Is the behavior of sports fans explainable?

 (Aaron Rodgers, quarterback of the world champion Green Bay Packers.  Hang out with this guy to really enhance your status.)

I warned you in my first blog about 18 months ago that we would eventually get to some gritty topics about human behavior.  Up to now, we have been mostly just messing around with the humorous aspects of the human condition.  But I want to tackle some fascinating elements of our species (at least they are fascinating to me, and this is my blog, and you are not the boss of me).  And although I am not a professional card-carrying behavioral ecologist, or sociobiologist, or evolutionary psychologist, I have followed this literature for nearly 40 years.  It is about the most interesting non-fiction reading there is, in my opinion.

My closest colleague at Cornell, Paul Sherman, does carry a valid card of the type listed above, and I have been strongly influenced by his thinking.  He proved to me that asking questions about animal behavior (humans are animals) and then posing possible answers by thinking about how natural selection works can be productive and stimulating.  I think it is a fun type of thought experiment.

I have been in wonderment for decades about the motivation of those who so passionately root for and idolize their favorite football or baseball team.  I just don't get it.  Sure, I supported my teams in high school, and hoped they would win the regional or state tournaments.  I wanted the football team to win rather than lose when I attended Ohio State University.  But as those years passed, I found that I couldn't care less if any particular team won or lost and, in fact, I got to the point where I can't stand to watch any sports on tv.  So I am naturally curious about this conspicuous human behavior displayed by tens of millions of people worldwide, and which enables a relative handful of star athletes to become famous and fabulously wealthy.

In particular, it is curious how a person can become so emotionally vested in a team on which you have never been a player, or excited about the outcome of a team from a school you never attended, or remain overtly loyal to a team from a city in which you have never even lived.  To a behavioral ecologist, this is all extremely interesting.  (Realize that this little essay is not about the person who loves the game of baseball or football or basketball so much that they could watch any two teams play and love every minute of it, and not even care who wins.)

I don't have a lot of data on which to build a little theory about this fascinating behavior of humans, but there are some observations about which we can probably all agree.  Here they are:

1.  the majority of fans that follow most teams are men; most of the most passionate fans are men

2.  the most avid male fans are of prime reproductive age (15-50)

3.  the passion is so elevated that in many (or most ??) cases, fans of one team literally hate other teams and/or hate the fans of opposing teams, hurl incredibly insulting epithets at them, etc. (for spine-chilling evidence of this, check out the numerous Facebook fan pages of sports teams, but don't let your young children read them)

4.  in many (or most ???) cases, fans advertise their commitment to their favorite team by wearing jerseys, jackets, ball caps, or belt buckles, and put team bumper stickers on their car

This behavior is interesting, because we ecologists are always analyzing what organisms do in terms of cost-benefit analysis.  So in this case, how do fans benefit from supporting their favorite team?  They must get more than it costs them in terms of time and money, or it seems unlikely they would continue their support?  Aside from the fan who bets money on the outcome of a game, most fans stand to receive no immediate material benefit from their team doing well.  So where is the reward?

Now, most of you are not students of natural selection, I assume.  So, you are probably saying that people follow their teams because "it feels good", "it is enjoyable", or "I feel a sense of pride when my team does well". But the behaviorist wants to know why it feels good.  If it is enjoyable, then it almost certainly serves some other purpose biologically.  Why do we like sugar?  Because it is sweet.  But biologists then ask why does it taste sweet?  The biological answer is that it tastes good to us (and probably to most mammals) so that we will seek it out and ingest certain foods that contribute to our nutritional well-being and, thus, our survival.  The same kind of answer follows the question about why sex feels good.  If sex were painful, humans would have intercourse less often and, presumably, have fewer children on average compared to a group of humans where the act was pleasurable.  I am simply asking the same question about why so many humans follow their favorite sports teams so passionately.

At this point, I need to introduce the concept of "status", which has a special meaning in biology.  There are many factors that can contribute to an elevated status in humans: wealth, notoriety, physical beauty, intellectual acumen, physical prowess.  Status is important, especially for males, because females are attracted to men with high status.  High status males have more mates during their life, copulate more, and leave more children (or at least they did before the era of easy access to contraceptives in developed societies), which is the all-important currency that drives evolution.  Thousands of scientific studies show this relationship for non-human animals.  The data for humans are more difficult to obtain, but if you search Google for scientific studies by P.W. Turke and L.L. Betzig 1985 (Those who can do: Wealth, status, and reproductive success on Ifaluk), E.A. Smith 2004 (Why do good hunters have higher reproductive success?), or R.L. Hopcroft 2006 (Sex, status and reproductive success in contemporary United States), you will find convincing evidence that status matters a great deal to humans.  But you already know that status is important to humans, and that we try to raise ours all the time.  This is true of humans in every culture and society everywhere in the world.  And if I asked you why we seek status, you would probably say something like "because it feels good".

There is little doubt that professional athletes have high status.  The Super Bowl that I watched Sunday exhibited some of the elements that contribute to the status of the participants, aside from the obvious financial payoff.  The President of the United States watched the game at home, and a former President was in attendance at the game along with numerous high-status movie stars.  Then, there is the presence of the U.S. military, which I have never understood.  Regardless of how that association ever got started, the military pageantry just before the game, the singing of the National Anthem, the military fly-over, and the segues to our soldiers in Iraq who watched the game lend credence to this football game as an important event in America.  That is, the Super Bowl is a really big deal, watched by more than 100 million viewers.  As Michael Douglas stated in that somewhat emotional segment before the kickoff, "This is so much bigger than just a football game."  If you think that the "head man" or chief of a Paleolithic village of a couple hundred people had high status among his villagers, then the status of the quarterback of the winning Super Bowl team must be off the charts.

What then about the fans?  I have long thought that the idolization of celebrities that is so common among humans is a status-enhancing behavior.  Or, at least it is a behavior that is a vestige of an age-old desire to be close to the source of power, wisdom, or wealth.  Perquisites that enhanced survival and/or reproductive success must have flowed to those who were confidants of the clan or tribe's chief throughout most of human history.  Today, if I were a close friend of Warren Buffett or Bill Gates or the Queen of England, I would likely obtain some tangible benefits.

And so we are strongly attracted to famous, wealthy, and powerful people, even if it is from afar.  We celebrate them, idolize them, dream about being with them or at least seen with them-------of somehow having our lives and our fortunes touched by theirs.  To help prove this point, imagine that you flew from New York to LA, and you happened to sit next to Angelina Jolie on the plane.  I will bet you my next three Social Security checks that the first words out of your mouth when you joined your spouse or friend at the terminal would be: "Guess who I sat next to on the plane?"  It would probably be the most significant event that happens to you all month, and you would talk about it with whomever would listen.  Importantly, your status would be enhanced, at least for a little while, because of this experience you had with the famous celebrity.

We may not be conscious of the possible enhancements to our well-being if we were to be befriended by one of these high-profile people, but that lack of awareness does not lessen the potential benefits of such an association.  Anyone with higher status than ours is a person with whom it is worth fraternizing, so in a global world the number of such people is extremely high.

It should be obvious by now that my hypothesis is that our tendency to follow a sports team, and to advertise that fact to others, is just another example of attempting to enhance one's social status.  It is a cheap and easy tactic to use; being a sports fan is the poor man's approach to bettering your position.  But there are certainly other explanations for this behavior.  For example, maybe people (essentially men) become a visible fan of a team because nearly everyone else in their social group or community is already a fan.  By NOT being on board, you could be viewed as a weirdo and, of course, your status would suffer accordingly.  But that is essentially the same idea; namely, maybe your status will not soar because you became a fan, but it might decline if you do not.

I have not discussed how we might test this idea or other predictions we could make based on it, but this blog is already too long.  Another time. I could be dead wrong about all of this, and I strongly invite your alternative explanations.  However, as I have long believed, the wrong hypothesis is better than no hypothesis at all.

Not the Super Bowl again!

(Maybe the Super Bowl frenzy is all about the snacks you get to eat while watching.)

This year I am trying to get pumped up for the big football game.  I guess the Steelers and the Packers are involved. 

You see, I hate football and I just can’t watch it on tv.  I tried to watch a couple of Super Bowl games over the years, but I never seem to make it past the first quarter.  I think I have watched maybe two football games in their entirety in the past 40 years. 

I know there must be something wrong with me, and I am seeing a specialist about this.  But she just doesn’t know what to prescribe as an antidote.  So I have taken treatment into my own hands, before I go so far as to check myself into the Mayo Clinic to find out what is wrong with me. 

My wife and I are ready.  I cleaned the tv screen with Windex to make the image as inviting as possible.  I vacuumed the carpet in the living room so I am not distracted by lint on the floor as I sit there during kickoff.  And I went to the grocery store yesterday and bought some great snacks.  We are going to have shrimp cocktail, one of my favorites.  I wonder if this is how most people make it through a game---they just buy lots of comfort foods and gorge themselves for three hours until the final gun.

But I am simply tired of being left out of conversations in public places.  This next week, everyone will be talking about the fumbles, the TDs (I just googled TD and found out that this is short for “touchdown”), the interceptions, and the half-time show. 

And anyone who did not see all those highly-touted commercials that cost $3,000,000 is considered un-American.  During WWII the Allies would ask an intruder who won the World Series.  If they didn’t know, then they were assumed to be a German soldier.  I have always worried that I might be stopped by some authority who would ask me to describe the Bud Light commercial on last year’s Super Bowl.  But because I would not know, I would be arrested as a subversive terrorist from Yemen.

So I have my snacks and my cleaning supplies at the ready.  I also have a little cheat-sheet with the names of the two teams and their colors written down to avoid confusion when the two lines of players run together and get all mixed up.  But as a backup plan in case I run out of snacks, I am checking HBO to see what movies might be showing Sunday evening.

Article first published as Not the Super Bowl Again! on Technorati.

Sleep-talking, the fun I have after dark

(After dark is when my fun really begins.)

I have always been able to find ways to entertain myself.  When I was a kid, I collected things: baseball cards, soda bottle caps, coins, stamps.  I played baseball, cowboys and Indians, and pretended I was Peter Pan saving Elaine, the cute little girl next door, from something bad.

More recently, with the children grown and gone, I play hide 'n seek with our black lab in the house, kibitz with people I don't know on Facebook, read a couple of books a week, and stroll through the forest around my house as though I were a Cayuga Indian stalking a deer with a bow.  I've never actually met a Cayuga Indian, if any still exist, but I pretend that I'm walking stealthily around on dry leaves as I assume they must have done in this very location.

Mostly, I love to tease my wife and play my own brand of games with her, something which she often sees coming, but which she understands is a part of our relationship.  For example, she always wants to read in bed at night, and I don't.  So before she gets to bed, I often hide her book somewhere in the room, and pretend that I am asleep.  But she knows that one too well.  "Tom, where did you hide my book?  I know you are not asleep."  Or, I will unscrew the light bulb in the bedside lamp so that when she tries to turn it on to read---well, you get the picture.  Or, when she is ready to go to sleep, she insists that I turn over and face the wall nearest my side of the bed so she can cuddle for a while.  But instead of turning 180 degrees to establish the position she wants, I actually turn 360 degrees to end up in exactly the position I was in originally.  So, in pitch black dark, I'm excited with anticipation when she discovers that her face is not near the back of my head, but it is actually touching my face.  I get giddy just before she lets out a little scream of surprise when she realizes her nose is unexpectedly touching another nose.  I love that one.

But on occasion, I also have another opportunity for entertainment because my wife has this interesting ability to talk in her sleep.  In the middle of the night, she will utter a perfectly coherent, complete sentence that wakes me from sleep.  I awake quickly enough that I hear and understand every word she says.  I wish I had written all these down over the years, because by now I would have enough material for a book titled "A Sleep Talker's Guide to the Universe".

It is also obvious that her utterances are a direct manifestation of what she is dreaming or thinking about.  Last week, our 2-year old grandson had tubes put in his ears to reduce the incidence of ear infections to which he is prone.  Two nights ago, Management spouted off the following sentence: "There should be a shine off the tympanic membrane." Realize that my wife used to be a Registered Nurse, so she must have been dreaming about ear anatomy and its characteristics, although I don't know if the tympanum ever shines.

But the best utterance was years ago when my wife still worked as a R.N. in the Emergency Department at the local hospital.  She was always bringing the stories of her work home with her---the amputated arm of the day, the broken bone protruding through the leg, and the usual heart attacks, kidney failures, and drug overdoses.  After 20 years of that, I felt I had learned so much about the medical profession that I almost went into private practice to treat trauma patients.  Follow that up with watching the tv series ER for about five years, and I could have taught medicine at a university.  One night while we were sleeping, the sleep talker went into action.  "Give him .5 of epi (meaning 0.5cc of epinephrine), STAT!", I heard her say with obvious panic in her voice.  This time, I thought I would try to talk back to her to see if she registered my response.  So I said, "No, make that 10cc of epinephrine, STAT!".  She definitely heard me.  She became immediately agitated, started moving her arms and legs like she was trying to stop the lethal injection about to be given by this new doc in the ER who looked a little like her husband, and she repeatedly said "No. No."  It was great.

I realized then that I had unleashed the power.  So for many years since then, when my wife starts her monologue, I whisper into her ear something like "Cheese omelette with mushrooms", and the next morning she asks me if I would like an omelette for breakfast.  "Oh sure, that sounds nice", I say naively.  Or, "A Porter-Cable rotating sander for my birthday".  When she presents me with my birthday gift a week later, I act totally surprised.  "Wow, I've been wanting one of these." And, "You probably have as great a husband as anyone you know."  For the next couple of days she keeps telling me how lucky she is to have a guy like me, and that I'm so special, although she can not remember exactly why.

Last night when we went to bed, she announced that she was going to read before turning off the light.  And then, "Tom, did you hide my glasses?"  Of course I did.  That was entertaining, but the real fun begins AFTER she goes to sleep.

Article first published as Sleep-talking, the fun I have after dark on Technorati.