Why Do Pirates Love Parrots? (20 page)
Read Why Do Pirates Love Parrots? Online
Authors: David Feldman
A
t first, our friends at McDonald’s were a little reluctant to answer this question, as their buns are baked locally by independent suppliers. So we moped silently and ran to the trusty American Institute of Baking. Kirk O’Donnell, who is the only person we’ve ever encountered whose expertise includes strategic training, plant management, and hamburger buns, graciously replied:
Hamburger buns often have a small white patch on the bottom due to the way they are processed. The dough is very soft, and when it is conveyed into the pans, it tends to entrap some air between the pan and the dough. The white patch is simply the area where some air has kept part of the dough from being in contact with the hot pan in the oven.
Eventually, McDonald’s did get back to us and confirmed O’Donnell’s explanation.
We ran this Imponderable by Fraya Berg, food editor at
Parents
magazine. She mentioned that sometimes white patches on baked products can be caused by extra flour from the mold or cutter used to keep dough from sticking. Berg mentioned that in the
Parents
test kitchen, “We use a brush to get rid of excess flour when rolling cookies as we did tonight”—all to avoid the dreaded white patch.
Submitted by “Gooshie,” via the Internet.
A
s we write this, it is 6:40
P.M.
in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and three hours earlier, 3:40
P.M.
, in Reno, Nevada, about 3,800 kilometers west. While we’re toiling away, the folks in Shanghai, China, are just waking up. It is 7:40
A.M.
in Shanghai on the East Coast of China, but it also 7:40
A.M.
in the city of Uramqi, located 3,800 kilometers to the west of Shanghai. The folks in Sydney, in eastern Australia, are already at work—it’s 10:40
A.M.
, but Perth residents in the West are still commuting at 8:40
A.M.
How about the folks in central Australia? For those in north-central Australia, such as residents of Darwin, it’s 9:10
A.M.
(Australian Central Standard Time). South of them, in Adelaide, it’s 10:10
A.M.
(Australian Central Daylight Savings Time).
If you are catching our drift, you might have already come to the conclusion that time zones are not uniformly applied throughout the world. When such large countries as China and India have only one time zone each, and places like Australia, India, Iran, and Newfoundland feature half-time zones, then something besides scientific considerations has affected the way folks tell time.
The notion of uniform timekeeping throughout the world is a surprisingly recent phenomenon—until the late nineteenth century, towns would set their own standards. If there was a big clock in the central square, an official would try to calibrate noon to when the sun was directly overhead, and hope to be reasonably accurate.
No one seemed to be highly perturbed by this haphazard arrangement until railroads demanded a more precise way of scheduling routes, especially in the United States and Canada. It was a mite difficult to print train schedules when a ten-minute trip could send passengers to their destination earlier than they had left! Ruth Shirey, of the National Council for Geographic Education, wrote
Imponderables:
Before railroads allowed us to travel fast enough that time zones were standardized so that trains could be scheduled, communities all over the world went by local sun time. In many parts of the world, people still use local time.
The inventor of our time zone system was a railroad engineer, Canadian Sandford Fleming. His notion was elegant in its simplicity: If the earth takes twenty-four hours to rotate, and there are 360 degrees of longitude, why not create twenty-four time zones of 15 degrees of longitude each? Sure, the zones in the extreme north and south would be infinitesimal, but only a few scientists, polar bears, and penguins might complain.
In 1884, President Chester Arthur convened a Prime Meridian Conference in Washington D.C. to standardize the concept Fleming had developed just six years before. And although not quite unanimous (San Domingo voted against, and Brazil and France abstained), twenty-two other nations voted for naming Greenwich, England as the location of the Prime Meridian.
But there has never been total compliance with Fleming’s scheme. China should have five time zones but it has one (in the western part of China, the sun is often overhead at 3:00
P.M.
). India is the second largest country to have only one time zone (in Fleming’s scheme, it should have two), and that one is a half-time zone.
According to Shirey, by far the most common reason for half-time zones (or “offset time zones”) is to shift key cities closer to their actual sun time. For example, all of Newfoundland is one-half hour ahead of Atlantic Standard Time, the zone used by the other Maritime provinces in Canada. Newfoundland lies on the eastern edge of its geographically correct time zone, so it chose an offset time zone to better reflect its actual sun time. Newfoundland’s offset time zone is so popular that when the government tried to change to Atlantic Standard Time to conform to Labrador and the other Maritime Provinces, the public outcry prevented it from happening.
The offset time zone in central Australia has a different story. Thomas H. Rich, a curator at the Museum of Victoria in Melbourne, Australia, took an interest in this Imponderable, and unearthed proceedings from the South Australian Parliament in 1898, that showcased the debate in Adelaide about whether to reject the Fleming system that it had adopted in 1894. The reason for the opposition in Adelaide had nothing to do with the sun and much to do with dollars:
commercial men who received cable advices from Great Britain were put to great disadvantage under the present system as compared with business men in the other colonies…commercial cablegrams are generally delivered in the morning, and in consequence of the present arbitrary law by which the Adelaide time is made one hour later than that of Melbourne and Sydney, South Australian merchants are placed at a great disadvantage, their competitors having one hour to act on the cablegrams before the local commercial men are in receipt of theirs…
The original reason for the offset is long past, but reversals of offset time zones are rare—all politics is local.
Meanwhile, anomalies exist all over the globe. Nepal, just to the west of Bangladesh, has a fifteen minute offset. Russia’s entire country is one hour off, sort of—it is on permanent daylight savings time. But our favorite brouhaha is the controversy about Daylight Savings Time in the United States. Until 2005, Indiana had a byzantine structure, in which most of the counties in the Eastern time zone refused to switch over to DST, but there were renegades who did, along with a few “traitors” from the Central time zone as well. Indiana’s localities gave schedule makers a nightmare.
Arizona is the last of the original forty-eight states not to endorse Daylight Savings Time, but even here, there is a holdout. The Navajo Nation in Arizona observes Daylight Savings Time, but the Hopi Nation, which lives within the Navajo Reservation, does not. If we can conclude anything about this topic, it is that although astronomy might have inspired our attempts at measurement, in practice politics, business considerations, and human psychology dictates how we tell time.
Submitted by a caller to the Larry Mantle Show, KPCC-FM in Pasadena, California. Thanks also to Jim Sears of Belton, Missouri; Anthony Bialy of Kenmore, New York; Joe Koch of Ellington, Connecticut; Nicole Nims of Culver City, California; Peter Darga of Sterling Heights, Michigan; Claxton Graham of Mt. Holly, North Carolina; and John Buchanan of Hamilton Square, New Jersey.
S
nickers, introduced in 1930, was named after a horse, albeit a well-connected one. Snickers was the favorite horse of a family named Mars, who just happened to own a certain candy company.
Submitted by Heidi Zimmerman of San Diego, California. Thanks also to Justin Tedaldi of North Massapequa, New York; Alexa Steed of Colorado Springs, Colorado; and David Weinberger of Los Angeles, California.
W
e were excited when we received this Imponderable from one of our most prolific correspondents. We’ve always wondered about this, too, so we used the power of the Internet to connect with hundreds of motorcyclists directly at the forums of Motorcycle-USA.com, GSResources.com (for owners of Suzuki’s GS Series), and HarleyZone.com, for Harley-Davidson owners and fans.
The responses were all over the map and revealed a lot not only about motorcycles, but about the crosscurrents among motorcycle enthusiasts—here is a subculture with many subcultures within it. In most cases, we are not quoting our sources by name, often for obvious reasons.
TECHNICAL REASONS FOR REVVING
The first obvious question is: Are there any mechanical or technical reasons for revving a motorcycle when it has come to a complete stop? Yes, say many of the respondents, and argue that this is the only reason why
they
do so.
If my carbureted engine isn’t warmed up completely, sometimes I need to rev to prevent stalling at the first stop sign.
I do it to get my RPMs up in anticipation of a green light.
The rev set originated because the bikes would come in one of two flavors. There were the street racer set (which generally rode British motorcycles) and the Harley-Davidson crowd.
The former would run “hot” cams, which would give them very good power at the top of the rpm range, but would make them stumble at idle. When the rpm’s drop below a certain level, the oil isn’t flowing and engine damage is likely to result.
The Harley-Davidson set have V-twin engines that utilize a single crankpin design (generally). This causes the bike to “lope” heavily. The older naturally aspirated units…were prone to stumble and stall at idle….Due to the engine’s tendency to stall at very low idle speeds…some throttle maintenance was required to keep the bike running.
Now, most modern Harley-Davidsons are fuel-injected, and tend not to stall out when idling, but most of the bikes with earlier technology are still on the road. Several Harley owners admitted that now that their bikes are no longer stalling when stopped, they’ve lost their “excuse” to rev.
A few other technical reasons for revving, nicknamed “blipping” by riders, concerned auditory matters.
I’ve found myself on my bike with my helmet on and it idles so low that I can’t tell if it’s still running, so I rev it to make sure.
And sometimes a blip is a “gentle” reminder to others:
If someone in front of me isn’t moving on a green light, I’ll rev my engine before honking.
AESTHETIC REASONS FOR REVVING
Motorcycle riders might have reputations as macho tough guys, but their responses read more like opera criticism. Many of them, especially Harley owners, were obsessed with the sound of their bikes:
When I was eight or nine, I was nearly asleep in the backseat of the family station wagon, when a group of motorcycles went by and grabbed my attention.
I can’t tell you what color the bikes were or recognize any of the faces but I will never forget the “Sound.” My Dad told me they were Harleys and he knew because of the unmistakable Sound. That Sound only comes from a V-twin (air-cooled) engine.
Now, thirty-five years later, I still get that same feeling when I hear “It.” I think that most of us who ride Harleys love the Sound and don’t hesitate to share the Sound. Kinda like flexing your muscles at the beach, I guess. People in cars often encourage it by giving the universal signal, the throttle twist. And when they do it’s never just one twist. It’s always two or three. I don’t know about intersections, but if you pass me under an overpass, you will likely hear a couple of extra revs with the clutch in. Gotta love that Sound.
Harley Dave is a sharing kind of guy:
I rev it up and when my wife is on she says, “Why do you do that?” I say, “Because I love that sound!” When I am driving and some kid waves and grins because he (or she) is thinking “Someday,” I do it for them, too! Everyone loves the sweet sound of “Screamin’ Eagles” on a calm, quiet, morning. If they don’t, they better get used to it in Harley Dave’s neighborhood.
Riders were so passionate about the Sound (which they seem to capitalize as if it were a proper name) that we asked them to be honest and say whether they would still rev even if they found themselves stopped at a traffic light on a deserted road. We received many responses like this:
It’s just the sound that I like. I don’t care if there’s a hundred people around or it’s just me, the sound makes my blood flow.
One enthusiast brushes aside the mechanical arguments:
People can say their bike runs rough, it does not idle correctly, or a million other excuses. They are all lying. The truth is they do it because they love the way it sounds.
REVVING’S ALL ABOUT ME
Why ride a motorcycle at all, let alone rev it, if you don’t like the sound? But some riders are willing to admit the sound is sweeter when you draw attention from others:
[There is] Nothing cooler than sitting at a light at Third Avenue and Fourteenth Street when all those people walk by and look at you on your scoot. You give them a quick rev as acknowledgment or to catch the attention of a good-looking young lady.
What’s even funny to me as I sit at a light and a crotch rocket pulls up with mosquito-sounding pipes. They take off like a bat out of hell and you gently let off the clutch and everyone watches you coast in to the sunset. Now,
that’s
cool.
And it doesn’t hurt if there’s a cute member of the opposite sex to admire your coolness (even if it’s your spouse):
Love that thunder!!! That’s half the greatness of riding a Harley…The Wife just about gets
too
excited, especially when I start the Deuce [a particularly stylish Harley Model]. If I’m going with or without her, she is always in the garage when the bike comes to life. Sometimes between the thunder and the leather, I’m lucky enough to get out of the garage.
But not all riders view blipping positively, and see it as a sign of insecurity rather than confidence:
It’s an extension of their manhood. Just like the people who go out and put huge tires and lift kits on 4 × 4’s and never take them off the road. They’re making up for a shortage in their anatomy.
One Harley lover is worried that attention-getting behavior by others ends up stereotyping riders:
In the old days of weak ignition systems and poor carburetion, bikes had to be revved to keep them from stalling. Those days are are long past but a lot of wankers out there still rejoice in what most real riders refer to as stoplight motorcycle monkey spankin’, dolphin waxing (choose your euphemism). There are riders out there that dropped $20,000 on their bike and another $20,000 on chrome and mods [often modifications to make the bike nosier] and still suffer the insecurity and fear that they may not be noticed. The straight pipe stop sign throttle rapper is more than likely the guy who routinely gets dumped on at work, nagged by his old lady and ignored by his kids saying, “please look at me, I’m here…. I’m going all Sigmund Freud on you.
Just as likely, this behavior is another by-product of our ready-made subcultures that we no longer invent ourselves but rely on marketing and media to create and spoon-feed us. [The] motorcycles, politics or music scene we get—most of it is prepackaged. The resultant cultural behavior is predictable.
REVVING TO PUNISH
Motorcyclists have a term for automobiles—“cages.” More than a few folks on the forums have contempt for the folks inside the cages (“cagers”), if not for the cages themselves.
Several riders were willing to admit that they used the blip to punish annoying cagers. The single biggest offender seemed to be cell phone users:
The amount of throttle, duration and frequency of my “spanking it” at the light is proportional to the idiots in their cages on their cell phones. It’s so funny to see the windows go up [and] the phone shift to the other ear. Did I tell you I hate cell phones in vehicles?
But there was plenty of hate left for aggressive drivers:
If I am at a stoplight behind a car with a body kit, tacky paint job, and a bunch of “sponsorship” stickers, I will often rev the engine to get the driver’s attention. I have found that in 100 percent of such cases, the result is the moron in the car will take off as fast as possible, trying to impress me. This allows me to take off a pace closer to my normal (brisk) one. Also good for getting rid of the same type of driver when they are next to you and you want to get in that lane to turn.
and inattentive drivers:
I don’t blip at lights to enjoy the sound or to impress anyone. I do it to get the attention of the blond cager, with the cell in one ear and one eye looking at her makeup in the rearview, and the other eye on the light as it changes. I do it to remind her there is a motorcycle there so hopefully she won’t run me over until the SUV in front of me gets out of my way. Also to wake up the old cager in the SUV after he fell asleep at the light.
or conventional people:
I do it to annoy soccer moms [this was followed by a smiley face emoticon].
or even
Imponderables
book authors:
Look around next time, there’s probably some nob in a BMW on a cell phone drinking a latte I’m trying to piss off, or maybe it was you. Get back in your 4-door shopping cart dude, or better yet buy a bike and join the dark side…
Gee, we wish we had a BMW. And if we bought a bike, with our coolness quotient, it would probably be a Schwinn with training wheels.
REVVING FOR FREEDOM
Scan the contents of motorcycle forums and the word “freedom” is omnipresent. Many riders insist that they blip not to annoy others, but to luxuriate in their favorite F-word:
We spend thousands to customize our bikes just the way we like them to please
us!
This includes the sound of the motor. Yes, I give it a little blip at lights from time to time, because I paid for that melodic sound with my hard-earned dollars, not as some have suggested that it somehow makes me feel like a big man—my lady does that for me, not my bike. Riding has always been an extension of
freedom
to me, not my manhood.
REVVING IS PART OF THE RIDING EXPERIENCE
Many riders don’t separate revving from the experience of being on the open road: Psychotherapist Brenda L. Bates, who rides herself and specializes in treating bikers who have encountered accidents, wrote to
Imponderables
via e-mail:
Many of us are what is called “motorheads.” We love the feel of the engine and take any opportunity to manifest the sensation that revving those rpm’s gives us. Many car drivers don’t care or know much about the engine in their auto. But motorcyclists can be different in that we truly appreciate the sound and feel of a good engine.
We thought blipping must be a way of revving up the metabolism of the rider as well as the bike, but competition racer Kris Becker (http://www.krisbecker.com) told us that for most riders, it’s exactly the opposite:
Harley riders (and any motorcycle rider, any brand), whenever stopped at lights or in a field when off road, have just come from an intense experience. Now they are “idling” mentally and mechanically, they rev the engine to fill the hole in their sensory input left after the movement and sensory intensity of the riding experience. Note that as soon as they are on a highway, at 50, 60, 70 miles per hour, they don’t look around much, they are relaxed, they have found the “zone.” Watch them stop and again, a little rev, some foot tapping, looks around, mouth popping, and “jonesing” for the reestablishment of the road experience.