this theory has legs

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INSERT WINE METAPHOR HERE

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I believe that everyone has some kind of special talent - like a sixth sense or mild Dr. Dolittleism. Just stay with me here, and take a moment to observe the people in your life.

I have one friend who attracts all manner of neighborhood cats to her door each night, without giving the little buggers food. Her mother felt a sharp pain in her gut whenever she brought certain boys over ...

... or maybe you (like me) have an auto-obsessive friend who has a spyder sense (see what I did there?) for weird, rare cars. More than once, we'd be deep in conversation while driving to a movie when his head would snap left. He'd execute a raucous, three-lane u-turn, jamming the front of the car into the driveway of a tiny used car dealership or pick-and-pull or abandoned gas station because the side mirror peeking out from under that torn old car cover could "only" be British.

Sure, he could have killed us both many times over, but then he wouldn't have found that special, rusted out Italian crap-heap Lancia to restore, either - and we all gots'ta have priorities.

Like I said, I suspect many fine people are blessed with these gifts, and I also suspect there is a physiological explanation involved.

[insert a random internet crawl]

As soon as I found it, it hit me: olfactory.

Apparently, there exist men and women out there who can detect, with their sense of smell, the unique tang of even trace airborne molecules of rust, Italian oil, or errant drops of espresso dried in between the seams of the dashboard ... maybe not from 60 feet away at 40 mph, but hear me out.

Olfaction is a form of chemoreception (the ability to perceive specific molecules in the air), and - usually - the sense of smell is reserved for locating food, finding a mate, and averting danger. "The essentials", in other words.

Enter: the gearhead.

Do you know someone who claims to taste vanilla, chocolate, smoke, steak, glue, and Play-Doh in their wine? Someone who can find a Greek restaurant in their sleep? What about someone who considers offbeat cars to be the end all and be all of human existence?

You're reading this blog, so you probably know at least one.

These people have become bipedal hounds - finely-tuned instruments of discovery, focused on finding their specific "treasures", often in spite of (or encouraged by!) the horrified faces of their peers.

Back to the point about "special superpowers", then: it's smell. It's some smell thing, I think ... and I'm pretty comfortable with that theory.

That or Grey Aliens (it's 50/50).

shameless plug for my other blog

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CARBOTASTIC COMRADE

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I've been reading these Russian posts from the past year or so - stories filled with Switzer's mad Russians racing their super-fast cars at evil speeds on public roads, seemingly without a care in the world.

They fascinate me, these Russians. I want to know more about them. How do they think? Where do they live? What - most importantly - do they eat?

If you've read my other blog, then you know already I'm a bit of a foodie, so it seems a natural enough question to me. You'll also know that I have a real problem with Ohio winters, so how do these Russians get through theirs? By loading up on that superb Russian staple: bread!

I was as surprised as you probably are to learn that bread is one food item a Russian table is rarely without.

Now, we all know that no decent human can deny the satisfaction of a freshly-baked loaf of crusty bread, but the Russians elevate its importance to an intense level of seriousness. The Russian intellectuals have asserted that "the quality of bread is the quality of our life".

The importance the Russians have placed on their bread isn't recent, either. During the Cold War, the baking of bread was industrialized, and the Soviet government fixed its price, making a bland, homogenized, and stereotypically communistic sort of bread accessible to all.

In the home, more traditional wives and grandmothers prided themselves on their mad bredmakin' skillz. How did they organize culinary throw-downs in Russia? By pairing off a dense and chewy Borodinsky against a Chorni Chleb - a particular black bread with more than twenty ingredients, including rye flour, chocolate, shallots, coriander, and caraway seeds ... it sounds divine.

All this emphasis on bread and baking follows the Russian proverb, "bread is at the head of everything," and it seems to do a body good

In any event, I hope you enjoyed the little food-based side-track. I'll be posting quite a bit more about Russian foods on Let Me Be Frankie, so keep checking in there in-between your weekly doses of Sunshine.

And, finally, because I couldn't resist ...

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IN SOVIET RUSSIA BOBBY FLAYS YOU

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... ah, Yakov. You taught us well.

schaaadenfreude | part i

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A study at the University of British Columbia showed that looking at pictures of sick and injured people seemed to boost the human immune system ... which means that, pretty soon, parents may be asking little Billy if he's taken his daily dose of schadenfreude!

This is something I've suspected all along, since watching people get smacked in the face has always made me feel better, happier, and more energetic.

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I FEEL BETTER ALREADY

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Too far?

Hardly! Participants in the study were exposed to ten minute slideshows of images of diseased people and other "unpleasantnesses", with the science-types measuring something at some point along the way.

The participants gave blood samples both before and after each slideshow. Next the researchers exposed these blood samples to a bacterial infection, and measured the extent to which white blood cells produced interleukin-6 (IL-6). IL-6 is a proinflammatory cytokine that white blood cells make when they detect microbial intruders. More IL-6 indicates a more aggressive immune response to infection. So, by measuring IL-6 before and after the slide show, the researchers were able to determine whether seeing pictures of disease-y people actually stimulated the immune system to fight infection more aggressively. And it did.

This elegantly explains how I made it through a snowy Ohio winter without getting sick - and totally justifies the time I spent laughing at all the people with flu vaccines that backfired horribly!

Now, take a look at the picture below ...

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I LOOK SICK WHEN I PLAY WITH THE CONTRAST

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... now, feel better, and don't say I never did anything to help the little people.

500 for love

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I love small things. Blame the estrogen.

I love fast things. Blame Hollywood, Tom Cruise sliding across the floor in his underwear, and Days of Thunder.

The Fiat 500 is one of my favorite cars of the first description, and I can't wait for the new Fiatsler to bring the tiny deathtrap back to US shores.

Unfortunately, it seems like these mini cars will be getting the Biggie-size treatment, with a longer, wider, and more "accommodating" version more fit for robust American bodies.

Embiggened microcars? The charm of these little 500s has always been their diminutive size. Is it sad, then, that the best I fear I can I hope for is a new Chryco 500 that's smaller than the newest Coopers?

Yes.

Until they arrive, I'll just have to enjoy dreams of this lil' rat-motored terror from the 2009 SEMA show, and marvel at what might have been.

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Photographs via the Autoblog.

sunshine theme week | godzilla ii | 'zilla v. frankie's pizza

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BIGGIE SMALLS. BIGGIE SMALLS. BIGG-

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If you say "Godzilla" three times, the damned thing appears smack in the middle of your quiet little liberal-arts town!

The original winner of the "I Ate Tokyo" Super Lucky Buffet Charrenge showed up on Monday while I was chatting up the Godzilla Theme Week during a typical lunch break at Oberlin's Java Zone.

Considering Java Zone's veggie-heavy menu, it should come as no surprise that there was very little "scurrying" fare to be had. As such, the big G zeroed-in on the next best thing: a super-greasy pizza.

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GODZILLA v. FRANKIE'S PIZZA (w/ ICED HAZELNUT COFFEE)

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In this case, "Frankie's Pizza" is both a literal and figurative name, since the thin crust basil-pesto, fresh tomato, red onion, black olive, and mozzarella masterpiece shown here is actually called Frankie's Pizza" on the Java Zone menu, and it actually was my pizza!

Like I said: Java Zone offers all sorts of vegetarian dishes at relatively cheap (private liberal-arts college) student prices. The employees with the sexy accents are all from some Greek or European or Mediterranean or Middle Eastern country way out there near East Texas, so there's quite a bit of regional influence in the remaining two-thirds of the hummus, baba ganoush, moussaka, sumac spiced menu, as well.

I should also mention another excellent item on the menu: the free wi-fi that kept me sane while the local yokels were responsible for setting up my internet connection.

Sad to report, however, that as good as the pizza was - Godzilla had the temperament of a five year old, and was not an ideal dining companion. Rather than try his own food, he played with the pizza, set it on radioactive fire, then refused to eat it.

6 bucks I'll never get back ...