A Fine Philly Weekend

After a hectic week of illness and appointments, we got away this weekend for about 30-hours in Philly.  Our dear friend was being ordained a United Church of Christ (UCC) minister so we took the opportunity to get away for a day.

We drove down on Saturday after kung fu and ice skating, one of our easiest forays on the Jersey turnpike.  We got to Philly, checked into the lovely historic Morris House Hotel in the Olde City, and headed straight for ice cream at Franklin Fountain, which we'd discovered two years ago.  In fact, I think we had mostly the same thing--Bud had Ladies' Choice which had peach ice cream in a raspberry soda; Sis had a chocolate milkshake; and I had a War Admiral, which was a soda with roses, ginger, and milk.  But Mama got something new:  a Dubliner Sundae, which had Irish whiskey ice cream, with a warm whisky cake, and a Guinness-caramel sauce, all so very good.  Yum!  The Irish theme went great with all the drunk college kids and 20-somethings on pub crawls all over the area around us.  One group would stumble out of the pub while another group would stumble off the crowded bus, with lots of loud laughter, shouts, and merriment.  The kiddos were a bit surprised, so we gave them a few pointers on navigating the sidewalks around drunk folks--mainly keep an eye on their weaving so you don't get in the way if they need to puke!   We also popped into the Shane Confectionery next door to grab some sweets for the road.

On the way back to the hotel, we passed the closed Liberty Bell and Independence Hall, so dark, quiet, and completely devoid of people.  We never wait in line to see the bell and so enjoyed an unobstructed view through the window.  One day we'll do the Independence Hall tour, but this time we settled for Bud rapping the opening song of Hamilton, even though Hamilton spent more time in NYC.

Dinner--I know, it was after dessert, but that's how the reservations worked--was at Jones Restaurant. It was comfort food at its finest--in a swanky setting reminiscent of the "Brady Bunch" with shag carpet,  formica-like tables, and wood detailing and lamps that look just like the Brady living room.  It was a great meal:  tater tots (off menu, suggested by Mama's coworker who suggested the restaurant), fried cheese curds, fried chicken and fries, grilled cheese and tomato soup, meatloaf and mashed potatoes, and Bud's tuna tacos, which weren't exactly old-fashioned comfort food but still very good.  We even had apple pie and Duncan Hines Chocolate Cake.  Mama also had this odd grape juice/lemonade/Sprite soda combo.  The house manager saw the kids looking at the open kitchen and invited them up to watch and introduced them to Chef Lisa.  They watched a few orders being prepared until our food came.  All in all, it was a great dinner.

That night, after some DS-playing and reading, we all slept with the urban noises around us--people emptying garbage in the alley, the subway breaks under the sidewalks, the people on the streets, even all the birds sining in the early morning.  Which we saw because it was the beginning of Daylight Savings Time.  UGH.  We'd bought 9:30 tickets to see the "Magic of Pixar" exhibition at the Franklin Institute, forgetting about DST, so we were up early.  And then, we got caught in St. Patrick's Day parade traffic, which we weren't expecting.  

But we made it to the museum in time and the exhibition was excellent!  The kids loved manipulating all the stations, which explored the story in art, modeling, rigging, surface reflections (I forget what this is called), rendering, sets, etc etc etc.  They created settings, grew grass to certain specifications, adjusted lighting, drew models in 3D, and so much more.  And I think Mama had more fun with it than they did.  We all posed with the various characters set up around the show--the Monsters, Dory, Wall-e, Buzz Lightyear, and such.  I wasn't as interested, though I had fun making the grass thick or thin, curvy or straight, clumpy or evenly distributed and I also liked playing with the simulations of water, hair, clothes, etc. in Brave.  We kept teasing the kids about how integral all the math was to the art, since they complain about math in school.  But it's fun when its CGI manipulation.  Mama thought she'd even try to see if there were programs where they can start playing with animation.  Despite all of the fun we had, I was, however, very disappointed that there were no Brave souvenirs in the shop--it was all Monsters and Cars, even though the exhibition had as many girls having fun.  Shame on Pixar and the Franklin Institute.  At the end of our visit, Sis even rode the Sky Bike above the lobby of the museum, back and forth over a net, so high up!

We headed to my favorite restaurant, City Tavern, for lunch.  And what a lunch!  Buttery mushroom toast, spicy pepperpot soup, the yummy bread basket (Sally Lunn, Anadama, and sweet potato bisucits), Franklin chicken with Lunn breading and wine reduction and mashed potatoes, chicken pot pie, seafood pasta, and a cured and roasted pork chop that looked like ham.  We finished it with creme brulee, a fig and oatmeal bread pudding with amaretto sauce, and a vanilla corn cake.  And of course, raspberry shrub!  We'll have to make our own again this summer.  There was a table near us of women in full 18th-century dress, though we weren't sure if they were re-enactors or actual museum interpreters.  And we even talked to Chef Staib again!  He'd given the kids a free DVD a few years ago and posed for pictures; he kindly said he remembered.  He's always nice to diners and the staff said he's also good to work for.

After lunch, we headed out to the 'burbs for our friend's ordination.  It was a long ceremony, much like a graduation--complete with processional of folks in robes--with lots of prayers and songs and even a sermon.   There was also communion--which the UCC seems to welcome all to participate in; we had to explain communion to the kids.  Mama and I participated, in the spirit of community, as did Sis; but Bud just wasn't sure.   It was more Jesus-centered talk than our kids have ever heard, being UU and all, almost more than I've heard (and, as a child, I spent dozens of Sundays in churches with friends, be they Southern Baptist, Catholic, Methodist, Presbyterian, Lutheran, no UCC though) but then it was an ordination welcoming our friend into ministry.  We saw her a bit before and talked to both her and her wife; they were so glad to see we'd come down.  I think it meant a lot to all of us that we were there.  We stayed for a bit of the light supper--baked ziti and Amish chicken!--but needed to head out soon after.  We did manage to see our friend afterwards and give her the stole I'd made.  She put it on right away and it fit and looked pretty good (which surprised me because I made up the pattern.)  Smiles all around.

And then we headed home, in the rain, on the turnpike, listening to Divergent the whole way home.  Whew.  What a weekend!  But though it was busy, it was a nice escape.  Maybe one day, we'll actually see the tour at Independence Hall!

Bacteria-ophile

I'm quite fascinated with bacteria these days.  First, there was research that indicated that bacteria might cause autoimmune diseases like lupus, MS, and rheumatoid arthritis.  Then it was the bacteria in red meat, then in eggs, that contributes to heart attacks. Then it's the bacteria in the stomach that differentiates fat mice from thin ones and the bacteria in stomachs that changes after a person has gastric-bypass surgery, not just the size of the stomach. Now, researches have perhaps found that it is bacteria that causes a almost half of back pain in people who have herniated discs.

I'm wondering if everything we know about health, disease, and even obesity will be totally overhauled in coming years.  Wait til we learn that obesity is an epidemic because it is a bacterial infection that alters how people metabolize food.  Perhaps it's no wonder that the modern American diet industry is so relatively ineffective.  They're fighting the wrong thing.  Same with cholesterol and heart attacks, MS, and perhaps other things like cancer.

Really amazing how little we really understand.

And yet another good reason to get dirty and avoid antibacterial soap and antibiotics except when absolutely necessary.

God, the "God Particle," and Me

I've just completed a UU course in prayer, participating in inner and outer prayer practices such as meditation, using a finger labyrinth, a universal rosary, and guided imagery, as well as discussing readings and our own experiences.

And so, with this in mind, I've been talking with many of my spiritual friends, asking, particularly, "How do you think prayer works?"

One believed in a universal consciousness, with energies directed through prayer that could directly reach their intended recipient.  Another believed in an intercessory God but also said that the prayers were as much for her own mental and emotional focus than for direct effect.

As I've mentioned several times before, I don't believe in an intercessory, omnipotent, omnipresent deity.  And so I can't conceive of prayer as being directed to God like a phone call is routed through a telecommunications satellite, but I'm learning that you don't necessarily need a deity to pray.  My friend, the one who believes in the universal mind, believes my skepticism is a childhood trauma, something that I need to heal from, an energy blockage that needs to be worked out.  And so I ask her--in all seriousness--how that energy works, how prayer energy and spiritual blockages work, what part of the body makes that energy?  It doesn't work that way, she said patiently, mentioning qi and other metaphysical ideas about spiritual energy.  But I asked for evidence, proof, scientific explanation and she said it can't be tested that way.

Just because it can't be tested by traditional scientific means doesn't mean it doesn't exist, she says.

That would be faith.

I take certain things on faith, things I don't understand but can accept, knowing that other people have the answers.  Like a car engine.  Or particle physics.

Except I'm beginning to understand that, as scientists dig deeper at the far reaches of our knowledge, the questions and answers are as murky as theology and the nature of prayer.  I recently read, though I recall not where, that biologists looking at cells in the human body now believe that mitochondria function like viruses, which surprised them.

And then there is the so-called "God particle," or the Higgs boson, that may or may not exist but is central to the Standard Model of understanding the Big Bang and how particles of energy gain mass.  (Okay, remember, I'm not a scientist, so I only think I have that correctly).  I've been reading several articles about the announcement this week that physicists have tantalizing evidence but no real proof of the Higgs.  In one article, which I cannot locate now, a scientist quoted the "unknown principle" in physics--sometimes things happen for reasons we don't understand, in ways and at times we don't understand.

That sounds a lot like prayer.

Oddly, I'm also a skeptic about science sometimes, feeling that science often labels events and systems without actually understanding it.  They can call it the Higgs boson without knowing if it is real, how big it is, and where to look for it.  Naming something, though, gives you a sense of power over it. (I've long wondered that we can put a man on the moon but can't tell if a woman is pregnant for weeks and weeks after conception.)  Still, as Mama points out, science focuses on quantifiable, predictable, reproducible theories.

Prayer is none of those.

My religious friends acknowledge that there is no 1:1 correlation between prayer and outcome.  There is always an effect, though, either on themselves or on those for whom they pray, the latter usually being as amorphous as "what is best."  In other words, if I pray for a sick friend and the friend dies, some people would say that was the best outcome, even if I don't like it, or that it's part of a larger picture.  But if you draw the effects of prayer so broadly and randomly, it seems to water down the power, no?  Clearly, prayer doesn't follow scientific principles, even if science has started to study it.  There is an oft-referred to study that shows people who are prayed for heal faster, with lower mortality rates, even when they are unaware of the prayers.  (Though, a recent article in Woman's Day, given to me by Mommy Goose, says a Harvard study recently refuted that.)  There again, I'm focusing too much on proof and evidence and control and rationality.

If I can allow myself to accept the murkiness of biology and physics and to be comfortable with my not knowing the intricacies of said disciplines, why not prayer?  Is it possible that spiritual energies exist but that we can't understand how they work?  Is prayer the Higgs of the spiritual universe, giving mass to our deepest joys and concerns?  Why do I need the proof?  Or do I have proof?  Lots of people from a variety of religious backgrounds--New Age, Judaism, Baptist, Catholic, LDS, Buddhist, UU--have prayed for me.  True, I haven't had a remarkable, miraculous healing, but I am better and it could be worse.  Has prayer worked on me?  I know it helped me emotionally to know that people were keeping me in their thoughts and so there is a demonstrable effect.  And when I pray for others, or even myself, I know that at the very least I remember to do things for them, check in, make a meal, or treat them or myself kindly and compassionately, and so there is an effect, even if it isn't miraculous or divine.

I guess I'm like those physicists looking for the Higgs--I've got tantalizing information about prayer but I need more time to think on and study it.

"Was Gommie a Chimpanzee?"

On Saturday, with none of the prior planning that is our trademark, we went to the American Museum of Natural History in the city. Since our successful visit to the Met last month, we had promised the kids a trip to the "big dinosaur museum." The morning of, however, Sis wasn't particularly keen to see the dinosaurs but was enticed to participate with promises of butterflies and bunnies. And we saw both.

First up, the museum's living butterfly exhibition, where you enter an 80F quonset hut filled with flowers and flitting butterflies. Brilliant Monarchs, spotted Owls, and, Sis's favorite, the shimmering Blue Morpho (a la Diego fame). "They're beautiful," crooned Bud. None of them actually landed on us, but we did see an educator feed an Owl butterfly some orange slices, its giant proboscis sucking the nectar. I liked how the room danced with colors. It was a great start to our visit.

Bud and I then headed to the main lobby to see the dinosaurs while Mama and Sis held back (I'm guessing she won't like Jurassic Park). Bud started chattering the minute he spotted them--look at how big, there's a baby, there are three, hey one is little-head-long-tail (our nickname for one of the dinosaurs in the Caillou game). On and on and on, to the particular amusement of the young couple next to us, who soon engaged Bud in a lively conversation about his favorite dinosaurs, his visit to the museum thus far, and the penguin he was holding up to see the dinosaurs (yes, Pengy and Amy the Bunny have now been to AMNH). He was very excited.

And became more so when we started touring the various dioramas, complete with animals from Africa, North America, and Asia. There were elephants, tigers, bears of all sorts, and so many things we couldn't identify. I think the North American hall was their favorite--Bud especially became excited upon spotting a white bunny in a diorama and raced off to find Sis, who was admiring a cottontail bunny in another section of the hall. Together they ran hand in hand to see the "xiao bai tu" (little white bunny). There were a few dioramas that gave us all pause, "Mommy, why is that zebra lying down with all those birds?" How do you explain carrion to a 3 1/2 year old on a happy family outing? Next gallery, please.

"Mama, that whale is as big as a . . . panda bear!!" Sis exclaimed upon seeing the Blue Whale in the Hall of Ocean Life. Neither one of us actually understood her comparison, in that pandas just aren't that big, but it worked for her and she proceeded to wander the large hall admiring turtles, dolphin, manatees, walruses (walri??), sea lions, and the like. Bud, on the other hand, didn't like that hanging whale at all, nor the whale sounds emmanating from the ceiling. It took all our coaxing to get him in the room and he quite decidedly announced when we had finished our single circuit around the room that we'd done what we had set out to do.

Lunchtime. Always their favorite part. This time with "dino-nuggets." And lots of fruit.

Just to do their two favorite things together, we hit the gift shop next. We have a rule of thumb about gift shops--the kids can choose something that is approximately the cost of admission and approved by us. Bud picked up a giant stuffed snake but decided on a pop-up book on dinosaurs. Sis wanted the 50-piece safari playset but got a much smaller one with different animals. I chose a book, How to Visit the Science Museum with Your Grandmother, and Mama got her requisite patch and pin.

There was a special fair at AMNH on Saturday, "Polar Weekend," featuring booths about various polar explorations, polar gear, polar environmental issues, and native cultures of the polar regions such as the Sami of northern Scandinavia and the Inuit. We looked through microscopes, made penquin popsicle stick puppets, pretended to build a penguin nest with tongs and rocks, made UV bead bracelets, watched a video of a walrus eating, drilled a block of ice with a giant screw-thingy, crawled inside traditional Sami tents and high-tech expeditionary tents, and finally went to hear a concert on traditional Inuit throat singing by the sister act Nukariik. The kiddos sat mesmerized for almost the whole performance, evening singing along to the audience participation part. I think they liked the way the songs mimicked nature, like seagulls, the river, and the mosquito. Mama and I were amazed (and reminded of Tuvan throat singing from that movie, Genghis Blues).

As we were leaving, I remembered how Sis and Bud have repeatedly asked me to see their bones. They are very interested in their bones, being able to feel but not see them. And there was a life-size human skeleton, missing all the "squishy bits," so we talked about bones, tapping our teeth to get a sense of the texture, counting ribs for kicks, and in general giggling about human bodies. Next to the human skeleton was that of a chimpanzee. I had already mentioned earlier this week that humans were "related" to apes and so I pointed out the comparison and reminded them that humans had evolved from apes. This of course was confusing and led to the best question of the day--you guessed it, the title of this post: "Was Gommie a chimpanzee?" I think it's going to take a few more visits to get that straightened out.

But on the way out the door, we asked the kids, now veteran NYC museum-goers, if they'd rather take Gommie to the science museum or the art museum. Gommie, looks like you better bone up on your biology, we're going back to AMNH!

"Where Did People Come From?"

We were talking about dinosaurs at the museum. And Sis said she would be scared if there was one in a cage that roared. I reminded her that there aren't any dinosuars anymore, that they disappeared a long time ago.

"How long? Before I was a baby?" she asked.

"Yes, before you were born. Before I was born. Even before Gommie was born. In fact, there were no people yet."

"No people yet?" Sis wondered.

"Were there houses?" Bud interjected.

"Nope, no houses. No people."

"Where did people come from?" Sis asked just as Bud said, "Were the people in the tummies?"

Deep breath. How did we get to evolution so quickly? "See, there were animals. And some animals, like apes and chimpanzees, changed into people. Like magic."

Silence.

"So, see Sis, we're actually related to animals."

She thought about this and concluded, "So I can be an animal scientist!"

Of course you can.