Remembering Joe Paterno

This afternoon I walked across campus to Beaver Stadium. As I walked toward Beaver Stadium people were beginning to gather along Curtin Road in preparation for Coach Paterno’s final procession. I was surprised at how happy most people seemed; I expected to see more somberness and sadness.

A flag flies at half mast near the Creamery.

The sign in front of the Bryce Jordan Center had a special message this afternoon.

The BJC sign.

My destination was the Joe Paterno statue on the far side of Beaver Stadium. As I got close the crowd grew thicker. Beaver Stadium threw a shadow over the statue, making it dark and cold. The (unedited) picture below captures that. You can see the bright sunlight to the south, but in near the statue it is dark.

It was cold by the statue.

I had to wait for an opening in the crowd to get a picture from the front.

The Joe Paterno statue by Beaver Stadium.

I did not stay to watch the procession. When I left campus I had to bike across campus to a point west of the library to cross Curtin Road. The crowds of people along the procession route were too thick to navigate with a bike. (This included the street, the crowd went right across Shortlidge Road, there were cars wanting to drive through but the crowd did not move, forcing the drivers to backtrack and find a new route.)

Coach Paterno had a legendary career at Penn State. He gave much to the university. In his passing he reminds me of how much of an impact one person can have. I am also reminded that even those we think of as heroes are just human.

An Assortment of Things

The Australian Open

I have not watched as much of the Australian Open as I would have liked to. I’ve seen random matches and pieces of matches (I’m watching Sharapova vs Makorova as I type this). The semifinal between Federer and Nadal should be very good. I’m hoping Fed wins it all. In the women’s draw I’m pulling for Sharapova.

The Australian Open usually causes me to experience tennis withdrawal, for it is in January when I haven’t been on a tennis court recently. But 2011 was strange. I did not play one match in 2011 (which is shocking to me, I don’t know how that happened). I hit the ball around once, but that was my only time on a court all year. So that means my tennis withdrawal symptoms have been around so long I am growing numb to them.

Public Compared to Private

I’m amused by differences in demeanor or function that occur between public settings and private settings. This past week I’ve had a pretty stark difference between those areas. It makes me wonder if this is a healthy way of dealing with a painful situation. The combination of stark honesty in private coupled with summoning up composure and perspective in public seems to be a good thing. Being around other people helps to divert my attention from myself, reminds me of good friendships and blessings, and alerts me to the suffering and difficulties of others. In solitude I am able to eliminate distractions and fully process where I’m at. (Of course I write this in a public setting, so by my own admission I am presenting myself as more composed than I really am.)

Another Stats Consult

I had another consult with a statistician to talk about data analysis. I now have a test for my survival data that I need to explore in SAS. I’m hoping that code comes together tomorrow. When I start using a new test in SAS there is usually a slow uptake on my part. Real life data is never as simple to analyze as textbook examples.

Building a Website

I’ve been building a website for myself that will contain descriptions of my research,a  CV, and some other information. I’ve registered my domain and put some pages together. My goal is to open the site by the end of the month. I’ll write a post about it on this blog when it launches.

From Tilapia to Whiting

Last week I started my initiative to develop an appreciation for seafood (or at least fish). Since then I have made three entrees with tilapia, which I can say I legitimately enjoyed. I decided to try whiting this week.

Today I dusted two whiting fillets with salt, pepper, and flour then pan fried them in olive oil. I had planned to coat the fillets with an orange-honey-pepper glaze, but they began to fall apart as they cooked. So I embraced the entropy and broke the fillets into pieces and coated the pieces in the glaze. It was quite good.

The first whiting entree.

In truth the deck was stacked in favor of the whiting, for I haven’t eaten a full meal since dinner on Monday (my appetite has been a bit lacking). But whiting is off to a promising start. I might try baking it next time to see if I can keep the fillets in  one piece.

At this rate I’ll be eating shellfish and sushi by the end of the year.

Watching Firs After the Flood

This fall and winter I flooded Fraser and Nordmann firs for 12 weeks. Then I let the soil drain. Right now I am giving the trees some time to recover. For the Fraser firs it is too late; they are quite dead. But among the Nordmann firs there appear to be survivors. I can’t believe that they could recover from 12 weeks of root submersion, but it seems to be happening.

A root that looks alive.

Another root that looks alive.

Hmmmmmm.

The Fruit of Maples: Samara or Schizocarp?

What is the fruit of maples (Acer spp.) called? I’ve always thought of maple fruit as a samara. In fact, I think of maple fruit as the classic example of a samara. A samara is a winged achene. So the fruit is an achene (a small, indehiscent, single-seeded fruit, with the seed and pericarp attached only by a funiculus) which is paired with a wing.

The achene at the bottom of the wing.

But there is a problem with this. Maple fruit consists of two samaras that are joined together. So are the samaras just held in pairs, or is there a better word to describe what they are?

A typical maple fruiting structure contains two joined samaras.

Enter schizocarp. A schizocarp is a dry or fleshy fruit derived from a two-to many-carpellate gynoecium that breaks into one (or few) seeded segments at maturity. Wings are not part of the definition. But do not lose hope! A winged schizocarp is described as a samara-like schizocarp or (in my favorite phrasing) a samaroid schizocarp.

References will conflict on the classification of maple fruit. My experience is that most formal botany sources will side with a version of schizocarp, most informal tree guides and horticultural books will side with some use of samara.

This is an example of plants choosing not to fit perfectly into the categories we have created for them.

You might think this is worthless information, but I bet you’ll find a way to drop this in conversation if you try. Samaroid schizocarps are worthy of some attention.

References:

Judd, W.S., C.S. Campbell, E.A. Kellogg, P.F. Stevens, and M.J. Donoghue. 2002. Plant systematics: A phylogenetic approach. 2nd ed. Sinauer Associates. Sunderland, MA.

Murrel, Z.E. 2010. Vascular plant taxonomy. 6th ed. Kendall Hunt. Dubuque, IA.

Raven, P.H., R.F. Evert, and S.E Eichhorn. 1999. Biology of plants. 6th ed. Freeman Co. New York, NY.