Friday, July 30, 2010
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
The Ghostly Jacket
The Long Strategy
By DAVID BROOKS
Published: July 26, 2010
I was a liberal Democrat when I was young. I used to wear a green Army jacket with political buttons on it — for Hubert Humphrey, Birch Bayh, John F. Kennedy and Franklin Roosevelt. I even wore that jacket in my high school yearbook photo.
David Brooks
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It’s a magic green jacket. I can put it on today and, suddenly, my mind shifts back to the left. I start thinking like a Democrat, feeling a strange accompanying hunger for brown rice.
When I put on that magic jacket today, I feel beleaguered but kind of satisfied. I feel beleaguered because the political winds are blowing so ferociously against “my” party. But I feel satisfied because the Democrats have overseen a bunch of programs that, while unappreciated now, are probably going to do a lot of good in the long run.
For example, everybody now hates the bank bailouts and the stress tests. But, the fact is, these are some of the most successful programs in recent memory. They stabilized the financial system without costing much money. The auto bailout was criticized at the time, but it’s looking pretty good now that General Motors is recovering.
But the magic jacket-wearing me is nervous about the next few years. I’m afraid my party is going to get stuck in the same old debates that we always lose. First, we’re going to have the same old tax debate. We’re going to not extend the Bush tax cuts on the rich. The Republicans will blast us for killing growth and raising taxes as they did in 2000 and 2004.
Then we’ll get stuck in the same old spending debate. We’ll point to high unemployment and propose spending programs too small to make much difference. The Republicans will blast us for bankrupting the country with ineffective programs, and the voters are so distrustful of government these days that they’ll side with the Republicans on that one, too.
So I sit there in my magic green jacket and I wonder: What can my party do to avoid the big government tag that always leads to catastrophe? Then I remember President Obama’s vow to move us beyond the stale old debates. Maybe he couldn’t really do that in the first phase of his presidency when he was busy responding to the economic crisis, but perhaps he can do it now in the second phase.
It occurs to me that the Obama administration has done a number of (widely neglected) things that scramble the conventional categories and that are good policy besides. The administration has championed some potentially revolutionary education reforms. It has significantly increased investments in basic research. It has promoted energy innovation and helped entrepreneurs find new battery technologies. It has invested in infrastructure — not only roads and bridges, but also information-age infrastructure like the broadband spectrum.
These accomplishments aren’t big government versus small government; they’re using government to help set a context for private sector risk-taking and community initiative. They cut through the culture war that is now brewing between the Obama administration and the business community. They also address the core anxiety now afflicting the public. It’s not only short-term unemployment that bothers people. What really scares people is the sense that we’re frittering away our wealth. Americans fear we’re a nation in decline.
So I sit there in my green jacket, happily chewing on a Twizzler that I probably left in a pocket in 1979, and I think: What would happen if Obama sidestepped the fruitless and short-term stimulus debate and instead focused on the long term? He could explain that we’re facing deep fundamental problems: an aging population, overleveraged consumers, exploding government debt, state and local bankruptcies, declining human capital, widening inequality, a pattern of jobless recoveries, deteriorating trade imbalances and so on.
These long-term problems, Obama could say, won’t be solved either with centralized government or free market laissez-faire. Just as government laid railroads and built land grant colleges in the 19th century to foster deep growth, the government today should be doing the modern equivalents.
Not much is going to get passed in the next two years anyway, but the president could lay the groundwork for a whopping second-term agenda: tax simplification, entitlement reform, a new wave of regional innovation clusters, a new wave of marriage-friendly tax policies. If the president is looking for a long-term growth agenda, he could read “Path to Prosperity,” co-edited by Jason Furman and Jason Bordoff, or “The Pro-Growth Progressive” written by Gene Sperling. Some of these guys already are on his staff.
Eventually, I see a party breaking out of old stereotypes, appealing to entrepreneurs and suburbanites again, and I start feeling good about the future. Then I take off the magic green jacket and return to my old center-right self. A chill sweeps over me: Gosh, what if the Democrats really did change in that way?
Sunday, July 25, 2010
The Upside down Parabola
Up until I was 13 years old, my life proceeded in large, bountiful steps. I talked early, walked early, read early. At the age of 8 I was enjoying literature books assigned in 9th grade. At age 6 adults people oohed and aahed at my ability to sketch what I see on paper. At age 10 I held conversations with adults. At age 5 I was that child reciting poetry on stage, and I did that every year until I was 10 or 11. I was the child on stage giving the welcome message to the audience. I was the adored one. I was the admired one.
Then when I hit 13 something happened. My life slowed down dramatically. For a long time I didn't notice. But when I hit 18, the age when everyone in the Western world heads off to college, I began reflecting on my life. My life had come to, as they say it here, a screeching halt. My parents couldn't remotely afford college in their dreams, so I had to work. A sense of hopelessly descended as I had to submit to the 9-to-5 daily grind in a starchy accounting firm where I was the ultimate anomaly. There I was bored to the edges of insanity. Riddled with petty, cruel but amiable people, it was my first encounter with the corporate world. I was largely friendless and ignored. I ate lunch alone. But in the summer/winter breaks when the college students (who were all children of the partners of the firm) come in to intern, I had some reprieve. The daughters were either haughty or super-cool, and two of the sons plus the delectable, law grad intern had crushes on me. Of course I was impenetrable, because I was 18 and full of angst. I'm not supposed to be working at some stinking accounting firm; I'm supposed to be studying biology. Angst congealed when they returned to college after the breaks leaving me the youngest among aged wolves and foxes. Those were very odd and strained days indeed. Because of those days, A wintry Bethesda has a crisp, distinct smell to me. It represents the Ivory Tower in whose basement I worked. Still I learned. I learned that anything that required a 9-to-5 office setting was not for me. Anything that discourages creative flexibility and insists on a strict adherence to precedents and the status quo is not for me
That was a while ago. A trough in my opinion. From there small steps. Montgomery College to UMBC to Johns Hopkins to Mayo.
Thank God for upside down quadratic functions. Thank God for that light at the end of the tunnel.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
The White House Incites Disgust
Thrown to the Wolves
By BOB HERBERT
Published: July 23, 2010
The Shirley Sherrod story tells us so much about ourselves, and none of it is pretty. The most obvious and shameful fact is that the Obama administration, which runs from race issues the way thoroughbreds bolt from the starting gate, did not offer this woman anything resembling fair or respectful treatment before firing and publicly humiliating her.
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Moving with the swiftness of fanatics on a hanging jury, big shots in the administration and Bill O’Reilly of Fox News came to exactly the same conclusion: Shirley Sherrod had to go — immediately! No time for facts. No time for justice.
What we have here is power run amok. Ms. Sherrod was not even called into an office to be fired face to face. She got the shocking news in her car. “They called me twice,” she told The Associated Press. “The last time, they asked me to pull over to the side of the road and submit my resignation on my BlackBerry, and that’s what I did.”
This woman was thrown to the wolves without even the courtesy of a conversation. Her side of the story? The truth? The administration wasn’t interested.
And the blame for that falls squarely on the people at the very top in the White House. Why didn’t President Obama or Vice President Joe Biden or Rahm (call me Rahmbo) Emanuel, or somebody somewhere in the upper echelon say, “Hey, what the heck are you doing? You can’t fire a person without hearing her side of the story. This is not the Kremlin. Are you nuts?”
And then, of course, there’s the media, and not just the wing nuts at Fox and the crazies in the right-wing blogosphere. A large segment of the mainstream crowd stampeded to condemn this woman solely on the basis of a grainy video clip, just two-and-a-half minutes long, that was trumpeted by a source whose track record should have set alarm bells ringing in the head of any responsible journalist.
This sorry episode shows the extent to which we’ve lost sight of the most basic elements of fair play, responsible reporting and common decency in this society. And we’ve turned the race issue entirely on its head. While racial discrimination is overwhelmingly directed against black people in the U.S., much of the nation and the media are poised to go berserk over the most specious allegations of racism against whites. Even the N.A.A.C.P. rushed to condemn Ms. Sherrod, calling her actions “shameful,” without bothering to seek out the facts — which, incredibly, had unfolded at an N.A.A.C.P. event!
Later, after officials at the organization had found and released a tape of Ms. Sherrod’s entire 45-minute speech, the group’s president, Ben Jealous, apologized and said the N.A.A.C.P. had been “snookered.”
Black people are in a terrible condition right now — economically, socially, educationally and otherwise — and there is no effective champion fighting for their interests. Mr. Jealous and the new edition of the N.A.A.C.P. have shown in this episode that they are not ready for prime time, and President Obama seems reluctant to even utter the word black. Or poor, for that matter.
We hear so much about the middle class, and it’s true that the middle class has suffered in this terrible recession. There’s a middle-class task force in the White House led by the vice president. But the people suffering most in this long economic tailspin are the poor and the black, and you don’t hear much about that.
Which brings us to the most important part of the Shirley Sherrod story. The point that Ms. Sherrod was making as she talked in her speech about the white farmer who had come to her for help was that we are all being sold a tragic bill of goods by the powerful forces that insist on pitting blacks, whites and other ethnic groups against one another.
Ms. Sherrod came to the realization, as she witnessed the plight of poverty-stricken white farmers in the South more than two decades ago, that the essential issue in this country “is really about those who have versus those who don’t.”
She explained how the wealthier classes have benefited from whites and blacks constantly being at each other’s throats, and how rampant racism has insidiously kept so many struggling whites from recognizing those many things they and their families have in common with economically struggling blacks, Hispanics and so on.
“It’s sad that we don’t have a roomful of whites and blacks here tonight,” she said, “because we have to overcome the divisions that we have.”
There is no way we’ll overcome those divisions if people who should know better keep bowing before and kowtowing to the toxic agenda of those on the right whose overriding goal is to foment hostility and hate.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Wings
I opened my eyes in water. It took me a good five minutes to realize I wasn't under water anymore. I was on my bed. The cell phone indicated that it was 6:04 am.
6:04 am: rolled out of bed exhaling air. Inhaling air. I'm already one hour late.
6:07 am: like a fish, I slip and slop down the hall towards the kitchen. Where did these white walls come from?
6:09 am: the morning light hung in the kitchen like a grainy suspension. I turned the light on. I turned the ceiling fan on.
6:10 am: press the big, salient "Bake" button on the stove. A beep follows, then the sound of gas gushing from aged Baltimore pipes.
6:11 am: roughly chopped up half of a Vidalia onion, and ~2 oz of fresh ginger and then popped them into the ginormous white blender I just stole from my mother.
6:12 am: As my finger descended unto the "grate" button I thought of my room mate crashing out of sleep and into the blaring light of reality because of the loud, bothersome blender.
6:12.5 am: I pushed the button.
6:14 am: pour contents into pot. Simmer -- so begins my secret barbecue sauce.
6:20 am: loud beep from ancient heatmonger. 405 degrees it is.
6:21 am: retrieve the wings from the fridge where they've been soaking for 9 hours in my secrete marinade. One last stir and into the heatmonger.
6:22 am: J Vernon McGee is talking about Israel and bible prophecy and some of the nutty inferences circulating out there. I like McGee -- he isn't afraid to call a spade a spade.
6:30 am: Paper work at the kitchen table.
6:40 am: Check the wings. Good. Check the bubbling sauce -- good but too peppery. Add some mayo. John McArthur is talking about not being ashamed to make our request known to God. I like McArthur -- he isn't afraid to call a spade a spade.
7:25 am: Sauce is perfect. Wings are ready for the icing. I pulled them out of the oven, carefully dunk each in the super secret sauce and popped them back in the oven.
7:26 am: sweating profusely. No A/C -- end of paper work.
7:50 am: Alistair Begg, Crete, wings are done. Transfer to aluminum tray. Cover, place in Mahalo bag.
8:13 am: Out the door. Wings and local Riesling as tribute.
3:56 pm: Everyone devoured the wings. Satiated, but light headed. The room is slowly twirling. Note to self: don't touch local Riesling again.
A lot of people don't know where that is
There was lots of translucent, pale blue water last night. A cage, a tank. Fish. In and out.
Swimming. A bond of sorts. Fear.
A distance. In and out.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
The Most is Always Said With Nothing
The rain decided to disfigure my ego yesterday. We stepped off the shuttle like confident misfits; seven of us on our way to Brewers Art. At that moment, the rain mounted its most violent attack. Pedro pulled out his blue and white umbrella, and grinned like the Cheshire cat. Xena immediately produced a bluest canopy as well. Then there was me, in pale pink and avian glory, about to be dragged away by this wet overlord who decided to step out of the sky. Then Mauricio upon noticing my distress handed me a stout blue umbrella, and I began to furiously unlock it. I shook it with all my might -- but nothing.
"It's a bit broken." Says Mauricio........."oh wonderful."
By now my frame was intoxicated by the translucent ale from sky, and realizing that I was essentially as good as three sheets to the wind, I returned the broken umbrella to Mauricio.
"I'm already wet." Said I.
Then came Andres, bearded, tall and unassuming with a barely unoccupied umbrella. Realizing that all was lost for my skin, but there was hope for my organs, I dashed for cover under his canopy.
And thus we trekked along Mount Vernon, over the slick pavement, and across the flooded streets where warm summer rivers washed our feet. With every step the rain became even heavier, and we became resigned to our fates. I wondered if Brewers would let a pack of wet chickens enter their bar.
Thank God for Andres' umbrella or else my nook would've been drenched.
Up ahead was the Subway where Beta was waiting for us. Its long, protruding, green awning gave us some reprieve. Andres went in to find Beta.
Curious thing: there is Subway on every other block in Mt. Vernon.
Pedro appeared out of nowhere, barely wet and still grinning like the Cheshire kitten.
"Were you all waiting for me? You didn't have to." mouthed Pedro.
"What were you doing?" Asked Mauricio.
Pedro shook his head for a bit, in the characteristic Pedro way when thinking and said: "I was buying birthday presents for Beta and Andres."
So we left it at that.
Only 2 miles more to Brewers. Like silent soldiers, Andres and I pushed on through the hopeless battle against that sky. Mauricio, being the aquatic animal he is, triumphantly walked without cover. He was clearly the mole planted by the Rain Overlord.
Brewers came into sight about an hour or so later. My fear of the rain was slowly beginning to be replaced by the fear of the cold air Brewers is surely have blasting in its gut.
I expressed this fear to Andres and being the word-smith he is, he said nothing.
The most is always said with nothing.
I worry too much.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Sainthood
Empathy [n]
1.The intellectual identification with or vicarious experiencing of the feelings, thoughts, or attitudes of another.
After a unexpectedly distressing phone call on Sunday at 8:41 am, which went on for the better part of an hour, and resulted in my loss of appetite and severe emotional trauma; I went for a walk. Phoneless, Zune-HDless and moneyless but nookfull I dragged my hyper-excited self out into the pervasive and bright sun of Charles Village.
"God help me. God help me. God help me." was my mantra as I stumbled down the side lane of redemption on Calvert St. No wise monk or angel greeted me. I passed 31st street, then detoured left on 33rd -- B&N being my target. "God help me. God help me. Gold help me."
I ascended the lazy slope of the B&N steps and pulled on the double doors. Nothing moved. It was closed -- to be opened at 10am. There is nothing gloomier than unilluminated books.
Glancing to my left, I saw a few bodies lounging in the sun, perhaps waiting for B&N to illuminate the books. To right, the sun shone emphatically on the path up St. Paul to University Parkway. Perhaps I will find a shaded bench on which to lounge and read my nook. Perhaps walking in the sun will burn this upsetting experience away.
"God help me. God help me. God help me. Why me? Why me? This is not for me. This is not for me. This is not worth it. This is too much for me. I can't believe he did this. How inconsiderate. It was weighing. I will not talk to him again. This not for me. God help me. Why me. Not me. This is not for me. He is so selfish. He is so selfish. His mind is contaminated. I can't do this. It ends here. It ends here. It ends today. No more. No more....He was nervous. He meant well. He meant well." The dawn of empathy. "I'm over-reacting. Now he thinks I hate him. Now he must be worried. Now he must be really worried. Poor thing. I'm too cold. I'm too cold. I'm too cold. What is wrong with me. What is wrong with..."
"'Scuse me? Can you tell me where to find the nearest grocery store?" A strange, accented but soft voice inquired. I spun around to face the confident face of a girl at least five inches shorter than me. She must have been around my age, but she had the youthful and carefree quality of a later adolescent girl. Eying her long black pants, slinky red blouse, and long ribbed, woolly, black overcoat. So blasphemous was her attire against the brilliance of the morning sun, that I paused to readjust my moral compass.
In answer to her question, I swiveled like a compass needle trying to find true North. When I found it, I asked: "How far are you willing to walk?" The question seem to confound her and produced only an "...ummm". So I pointed in the direction of the Giant and I instructed her to walk along Univeristy Parkway until sees a Giant to her right. More confusion rippled across her face. She was clueless.
"Are you new here?" I asked and she said yes. Upon her response my mind quickly conjured up a heinous scenario of her being lost in the heat of the day with that long coat. "I'll walk you there then. It's not that far." I said. I needed to walk anyways. Relief, smiles, relief -- and I supposed Americans just gained 100 points in her mind.
"What is your name?"........"Rebecca"
"Where are you from?"......."Sri-Lanka"
"Sri-Lanka?"............"Yes, but I am Kenyan?"
"How did you end up in Sri-Lanka?"................"I work there....."
And so it went on as we walked past Papa Johns, Punjab Halaal Meats, and the empty space left by the Waverly Farmer's market. The sun sucked us like a giant golden leach, and there was no shade to be found along the way. At this point she removed the blasphemous coat and allowed the sun to have its way. More smiles.
"Here is the Farmer's market where you can buy fresh produce in Saturday mornings."............."What's a farmer's market?
"Here is the Giant!"............."Wow! It's so big."....."That's why it's called Giant."
I introduced her to the air conditioned entrance and was about leave, when the picture of her being lost was projected unto the wall behind the security guard. "Do you think you can find your way back?" I asked, sounding like a parent. "....um" she said scrounging up her face like a four year old who was caught with the forbidden cookie in his mouth. "I am 50% certain..." She said. "What!" I thought, "she knows about statistically uncertainty." I was inclined to leave to her own wits if she had said 75%, but 50% is the bane of reality.
"Ok, I'll go in with you and then walk you back."......"Are you sure."
I read my nook manual as she selected apples and whatnots. Having apples in the summertime is ridiculous to me. Some gentlemen said hi and I smiled.
Now unto yogurt, milk, bread and butter. The table staples.
"Aren't you going to buy something to cook. Meat, veggies?"........"The kitchen has no pots and pans."........."oh"
After mishandling two muffins, we headed to self-checkout. For the first time since I met her she exhibited fear - which is always warranted with these darn self-checkout machines.
"You are a blessing from God." She said as I checked out her dreadful apples. "A real blessing from God. I don't know what I would've done."
"Then the phone trauma had its purpose..." was my immediate thought. Did God fancy that being hte only way to set me off wandering in Charles Village early on a Sunday morning? Was that his plan? Or was it pure serendipity.
After signing her up for a bonus card, we headed out with three bags -- me holding one. I elected to show here the thrift shop where she can buy pots and pans (etc) for less than $5. We passed Ace, and just as we turned left at the Rite-Aid, my legs became dense, my eyes widened and my mind hesitated. This wasn't possibly possible. Caleb.
Fancy that, meeting a a Rebeca and a Caleb within the span of 1 hour. I knew him as we used to attend the same church. A hug, a greeting, some explanations.
"You live around here? What are you doing here?"................"I'm headed to my new church. I change buses here."
"What happened to your car?"........"I gave it up to keep my house."........."Oh"
"Why did you leave the old church?"............"I felt like God wanted me to be at this new church. Also I'm trying to be an ordained minister -- I'm working on that...(blah blah blah blah)"
"Why aren't you at church?" He asked.
"I have to take Rebecca home." Was my response. He took my number, then Rebecca and I were off.
"There is the thrift store."............"ok"
In 20 minutes or so we were back at here heavily secured apartment building on Charles Street.
"If you need anything else..." I heard myself going through American formalities. My brain was rolling its eyes at my adherence mainstream norms.
"Thank you she said." Then took my email, name and number.
Friday, July 9, 2010
A Sinister Bias for Calling Fouls in Soccer
Distinguishing between a fair and unfair tackle in soccer can be difficult. For referees, choosing to call a foul often requires a decision despite some level of ambiguity. We were interested in whether a well documented perceptual-motor bias associated with reading direction influenced foul judgments. Prior studies have shown that readers of left-to-right languages tend to think of prototypical events as unfolding concordantly, from left-to-right in space. It follows that events moving from right-to-left should be perceived as atypical and relatively debased. In an experiment using a go/no-go task and photographs taken from real games, participants made more foul calls for pictures depicting left-moving events compared to pictures depicting right-moving events. These data suggest that two referees watching the same play from distinct vantage points may be differentially predisposed to call a foul.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Heatwave
What's worst than a heatwave in Charm City? Well, having no A/C during said heatwave. Is this really possible during the 21st century? Well, **points thumb to self**. And even though I drink more than 2 L of H2O a day on average, I've been hemorrhaging water like nobody's business. As a result I am suffering from heat exhaustion. Enter this delightful article: I will be trying #12 when I get home.
- 1Just add water. The relief is almost immediate, and will last for up to one hour or more.
- Ball up and soak a t-shirt in the sink, wring it out, put it on and sit in a lawn chair (or other chair that lets air through to you) in front of a fan. Re-wet as it dries. Make sure not to soak it with cold water. It can be colder than you think. Instead use lukewarm water so you get cool without freezing. Using a synthetic shirt will ensure no "wet T-shirt" look.
- Wear a short sleeved shirt and put water on the sleeves. If there is a breeze or fan blowing on you, you can actually get cold. Use a squirt bottle, the sink or hose if outside to keep your sleeves wet. If you are outside and wearing long pants and you put water on your legs, the water will cool your legs.
- Fill your bathtub with cool water and get in. Once you are used to the temperature, let some water out and refill with cold water. Keep doing this until you are sufficiently cold. Your body will stay cool for a long time after you get out.
- Or just soak your feet in a bucket of cold water. You can do it almost anywhere and don't have to stay in the tub. The body radiates heat from the hands, feet, face and ears, so cooling any of these will efficiently cool the body.
- 2Sweat it out. Water vapor produced by sweating actually takes heat away from your body if it is exposed to air and allowed to evaporate. The best thing to do is to put your sweaty self in the path of a cool breeze or fan. Also try using a Water Misting Fan. These portable devices are battery operated so you can take them with you wherever you go. As you mist and fan yourself, the water is evaporated on you skin giving you an instant cooling sensation!
- 3Dress (or undress) for the heat. There are several strategies to dress, depending on your situation:
- Nothing: If you're in a situation where you can go without clothes, this can be the most comfortable, natural way to stay cool.
- Next-to-Nothing: Put on a swimsuit, or wear your underwear at home.
- Summer Clothing: Wear natural fabrics (cotton, silk, linen) rather than polyester, rayon, or other artificial fibers (with the possible exception of performance fabrics).
- Wear Light Colors: Darker colors will absorb the sun's rays and be warmer than light or white clothing, which reflects light and heat. Wear natural summer clothing.
- Cover Up: Covering up may actually keep your cooler, especially if the heat is low in humidity. In the scorching temperatures of the Middle Eastern deserts, traditional cultures wear clothing covering from head to toe. By protecting your skin from the sun beating down, you'll also shade your skin. Be sure your clothing is natural fabrics, and loose.
- 4Go downstairs. Warm air is less dense than cooler air so it ends up layered on top of the downward moving cooler air. If you're in a house, for example, get lower than the roof. Make your way to the basement or lower level. It will be cooler there. Position a fan in an upstairs window to draw off heat collected in upper rooms--set it up so that it sucks air from indoors and pushes it outdoors.
- 5Keep the air flowing. Turn on the ceiling fan, box fan or battery operated fan in the room. In the evening, open windows and use fans to create a cross-breeze, circulating cooler evening/night air through the rooms. As soon as the sun hits the building the next morning, close all windows and keep doors and windows closed throughout the day until it is cooler outside than it is inside. Then you can open everything up again and cool off to be prepared for the next day. Leaving kitchen cabinets open all night helps too; if you leave them closed, they store the heat and your house won't cool off as much.
- 6Close your blinds. Close your blinds and curtains during the day to block the sun. For even better protection, get aluminized blinds (or use removable sheets of cardboard cut to size and covered in foil.) At night, open selective windows that cooler night air is blowing in. If possible, purchase a fan (such as from SMC) that are meant to install in a window. There should be an in, our,and exchange switch which controls the direction the air blows. These aren't over expensive and work really well.
- 7Turn off electrical heat sources.Turn off the stove or other sources of heat. Don't use the stove or oven to eat--eat out, eat cold food, or use the microwave. Incandescent light bulbs also create heat - switch to compact fluorescents. Turn off your lamps, as well as your computer when you're not using it.
- 8Adjust your pilot light. If you have a gas stove with pilot lights, make sure they are set correctly. Too high and they'll produce excess heat. We stop using the oven in the summer and just turn the gas off.
- 9Use a hint of mint.Try a few minty or menthol products to cool your skin: slather on lotion with peppermint (avoid your face and eyes), shower with peppermint soap, use a minty foot soak, and powders with mint. Mint refreshes the skin and leaves a nice cooling sensation.
- 10Try a heat snorkeling system. Take a glass and fill it almost to the brim with ice cubes. Then hold it up to your mouth and blow gently into the cup. The ice causes the air you are blowing into the cup to cool down drastically, and since the air only has one way out of the cup (the hole which should now be aiming right at your face) the cold air is forced out over your skin. This is a great alternative to air conditioning and is very simple. Note that this is not any more efficient that A/C, as energy goes into freezing the ice. To put the "snorkeling system to more efficient use, point a fan into a square of four cups filled with ice water and ice cubes. The cooler air in the cups have no where to go but out! This can help work as a temporary AC system. Each night, refreeze the cubes, and open the windows instead!
- 11Eat spicy food. It's not a coincidence that many people in hotter regions of the world eat spicy food. Spicy (hot to the taste) food increases perspiration which cools the body as it evaporates. It also can cause an endorphin rush that is quite pleasant and might make you forget about the heat.
- 12Put a freeze on things. Get a 1 or more 3 liter bottles, fill them mostly full of water, freeze them, then place them in a large bowl (to catch dripping water). Position a fan to blow on them. As the ice in the bottles melts, the air cools around them. The fan will blow that air at you. The water in the bottles can be frozen overnight and used again, repeatedly. This will supplement your AC if you have it, and will serve as a ad hoc AC until you can get a decent AC system. Note that this is not any more efficient that A/C, as energy goes into freezing the ice.
- 13Think cool. Read books about climbing Mount Everest, visiting Norway, or watch "March of the Penguins", "Ice Age", or "The Day After Tomorrow". You might not be physically cooler, but if your mind envisions a cold environment, you might feel a bit cooler.
- 14Sit in the Shade. Find a shaded area and set up water misting system that connects to an ordinary garden hose that can be found at home improvement stores. Then, just sit there and let the mist cool you off.
- 15Sit Still. Do not try to fan yourself because it can make you hotter. Trying to move while feeling hot can make you feel hotter.
- 16Cool as a cucumber! Slice a thin piece of cold cucumber (from the fridge or a cooler) and stick it in the middle of your forehead! This feels fantastic on a hot day or when stuck in a hot car, and works almost immediately!
- 17Do a walk through. A walk through is where you walk outside then back inside, chances are, your house is hotter than the outside air, especially in the shade. If your house happens to be cooler, then you will feel the temperature difference after being outside, and feel cooler.
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