My Experiment
I need to tell you that I have been remiss in keeping this blog updated, primarily because I got involved in a scientific experiment about a month ago. Well I guess, it was more akin to a science project. Let me explain.
In mid-November, a couple of things happened at about the same time that intersected for me. First, I have a Canadian neighbor who has been down here for several years, and is well entrenched in the hotel. So much so that, with the hotel management’s permission, he keeps some pets in his room – four little mice and a gerbil to be specific. A family emergency required that the he had to return to Quebec for about a month, so I agreed to house the Canadian’s menagerie for him in his absence.
The other thing that happened about that same time was an action that was taken by the Panamanian government. In a trade agreement with Chile, Panama abolished all the import taxes and duties on many Chilean imports, including wines. I bought, real cheap, three cases of an assortment of good Chilean ‘reds’ - I was only going to buy one case, but decided that the other two cases would make good stands for the animals’ little cages.
How do these two things intersect, you ask? Well, the first night I was sitting on the balcony, on about the third bottle of the evening (you know – sampling!) when I saw an interesting article in the newspaper (I know it was about the third bottle because I was having trouble focusing). The article detailed a recent scientific study that had documented the fact that an ingredient in red wine, resveratrol, had shown promise in extending human lifespan – a longevity drug? And, AND, the study had utilized mice.
I was opening the fourth bottle, a really nice ‘96 burgundy, when a stroke of genius hit me. Mice! The Canadian would probably appreciate his mice having more longevity. I mean, nobody enjoys burying mice. Plus at my age, longevity has a certain appeal as well. So, I started designing my own study. I just needed one mouse for my test subject, the others would be the control group. I went into my room and tried to figure out which mouse to select. To maintain scientific integrity, I had to be able to tell on-sight which one was the test mouse, but they all looked alike. So, I measured them all, and then even weighed each one, but they were all too similar. I finally decided I would sleep on that problem, and opened a bottle of ’99 Beaujolais. Smooth!!!
I did not wake up until almost 10 the next morning, and I didn’t feel well. And, I certainly didn’t appreciate all the people making a commotion around me. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t slept on the balcony before. And, if one chooses to sleep on the balcony, what difference does it make if you chose to sleep on the floor. Get over it, people.
It took a while to figure out what the note scribbled on my left arm with a magic marker was all about. It said, ‘Pik a G.D. Moose’. A moose? But, it slowly came back to me. Time for action, I thought. I marched into the room intent on selecting my test mouse. I decided that the three brown-and-white mice stood out enough that I could safely go with the white one as the test subject. I named him ‘Julius’, partly due to his serious and restrained manner. I certainly don’t need any goof-offs in my experiment. I decided shortly after noon, even though it was early, to open a bottle and test Julius’ taste buds. He initially sniffed rather apprehensively, but soon got into it big time. By about 2:30 he was tearing that treadmill up, at least twice his normal speed. I also decided that I needed to start keeping a log to document my observations to enable me to evaluate the project properly. I have included my log below;
Nov 16, 2009. Julius and I shared about three bottles of the good stuff, but I did not see any real results, nothing seemed to change. Thinking I had missed something, I went back and re-read the story about the experiment and BOOM, there it was. I had overlooked the part that said that these tests involved what could be considered copious amounts of resveratrol. We had to step it up in the interest of science. Just laying back sipping an occasional glass was for the jet-set types at Hyannis Port.
Nov. 17, 2009. This is Day 2 of the test. Julius did not get up this morning until after 10. But, I opened a bottle of ’94 Saint-Emilion and introduced him to the ‘hair of the dog’ theory. Turns out he objected to that choice of words, and I know that because I also discovered that wine effects mice much in the same manner that it does many humans. Once the wine erased Julius’ inhibitions, he informed me in no uncertain terms that his name is really Ramon. I commented that I thought it strange that a mouse that had spent its entire life in Panama spoke excellent English, which caused Ramon to collapse in fits of giggles.
Nov. 19, 2009. This morning (late morning) Ramon showed an abundance of energy, however, he must have taken the wrong turn in the maze in the cage, in search of the cheese, at least a half dozen times – a maze that he mastered months ago. When he did find the cheese, he collapsed in laughter and pissed himself. I have to admit it was funny. In fact, I also collapsed in laughter and I also …. Well, never mind. I also missed my log entry yesterday. Well I didn’t really miss it, it is just that everything from the night before disappeared into a black hole about the time I decided to start calling old girl friends and straighten their asses out. I have decided that my observations will have more clarity if I only make blog entries when something important happens.
Nov. 27, 2009. Ramon has developed an attitude, and it takes five or six glasses before he returns to his jocular self. I had to tell him that, regardless how much my remarks hurt, I liked him better when he drinks. Last night, after our talk and after eleven glasses, Ramon showed amazing muscular progress. He arm-wrestled the gerbil, who is four time his size, to a draw. I should also note that mere observers of an experiment like this, who are not even drinking, shed their inhibitions also, as if by osmosis. It was the gerbil who told me about the arm wrestling, since I missed it. I think I was on the phone – again. By the way, the gerbil speaks with an accent? The gerbil, who refuses to tell me his name, said that when he finally went to sleep about 4AM, Ramon and I were still sitting on the balcony arguing alternately about free will and Inca religious symbols.
Nov. 30, 2009. I was considerate enough to call my wife and let her know that I would be late coming home since I was busy at my lab. In her typical snotty manner, she reminded me that we had been separated for almost four years, and added that she “didn’t give a flying ….” Well, never mind, I don’t remember exactly what she said. And, I was having a hard time talking to her because all during the call, Ramon was trying to crack me up by pantomiming humping the gerbil. Then he decided he was going to run a marathon on the treadmill. He only got about probably 20 yards before fell off and puked into the mouse’s water bowl.
Dec. 1, 2009. I had to separate the mice last night. I was cleaning up blood on the floor from some unknown origin, when the gerbil told me that the other mice, my control group, where about ready to go off the reservation. The puking in the water bowl was the final straw. So, I found a shoe box for Ramon, who then threw a fit just because I had overlooked the shoes in the box. Even after I took the shoes out, he was so stirred up that it took both me and the gerbil to scrape him off the outside of mouse’s cage. He was hanging there screaming at the mice about what pussies they were. Later, I told Ramon that he was getting weird on me. His only response was a vague reference to the weird crap I had been saying to ‘those women’ on the telephone. I tried to explain to him that once I started calling random phone numbers, all that stuff was moot.
Dec 4, 2009. Last night Ramon was all excited. He had heard of a study that showed there was a lot of health benefits in endocannabinoids, a phrase which I was not familiar with. It supposedly gave you smooth skin, and Ramon’s idea was that if we were going to live longer, then … But, then he started making fun of me because I was not familiar with the term endocannabinoids, or THC for that matter. I explained to him that I don’t listen to rap music. It was only when he suggested that we should probably just score some weed from the creep in front of the pool hall, that I finally figured out what he was talking about. I rejected that whole idea out of hand. We would need to apply for a grant to do something like that, and the Canadian would be back long before we could get approval. Plus, with my constant headache and recurring hand tremors I wasn’t up to the paperwork.
Dec 6, 2009. I have been trying to teach Ramon some of the terminology used in evaluating and grading different wines. It was hard to explain terms like ‘bouquet’, ‘nose’ and ‘after-taste’ to a mouse, especially a mouse that is totally focused on practicing his rap routine. I also found that some of the Chilean cheap table wines were less than a dollar a bottle if you bought it by the case – a great buy. I got a little testy when Ramon’s comments about my latest purchase included terms like vinegary nose, vomit bouquet and shitty after-taste. He did advise me, however, about a new study that said tequila was loaded with resveratrol, while reminding me that researchers had to be flexible
To Be Continued. Part II will be posted on Jan 16.
The continuing saga of ´The Experiment´......
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