There are a couple of kinds of clickbait that I'm constitutionally incapable of resisting. We've already talked about animal videos here. And I'm a sucker for the military parent returning from duty away from home to surprise their kid. This week, another headline showed up in my field of vision, and sucked me right in.
Look at this gorgeous little ripper!
Three words, my friends: wooly flying squirrel.
Kristoger Helgen is the chief scientist and director of the Australian Museum Research Institute in Sydney. His description of Eupetaurus cinereus, a newly discovered species of Himalyan squirrel is pretty great, and very scientific - he calls it, “one of the strangest ways to be a mammal.” [For what it's worth, Helgen says the same thing about Inland Dave.]
In the early 1990s, a researcher named Peter Zahler from the Wildlife Conservation Society found a single example of a wooly flying squirrel in remote Pakistan. Since then, the scientific community has sought to confirm the existence of an animal thought to be extinct.
It got a little weird for minute. As The Washington Post writes, "Helgen and Stephen M. Jackson pored through preserved specimens that had been collected in the wild and placed in museums around the world. They compared skins, skulls, teeth and penises."
Okay, man. Whatever.
All that obsession with rodent genitalia paid off, though, as an international collaboration eventually determined that three unique species of big-ass flying squirrels are confirmed to exist. These sumbitches are more than three feet from nose to tail, weigh more than five pounds, and are capable of soaring from one mountain plateau to another. They also poop prodigiously, more than 900 pellets per 12 hours. Badass.
A biology professor at Northland College in Texas was shining a UV flashlight in his backyard because ... I don't know why, I guess that's just what bio profs do. Anyway, as he was shining the UV light a hot-pink flying squirrel flew by him. No typos in that sentence. See for yourself.
Turns out no one ever noticed this before, except maybe rob but he kept it to himself. The loon with the UV light then started shining on museum specimens and found more glowing squirrels.
Fluorescence in varying intensities of pink was observed in females and males of all extant species (G. oregonensis, G. sabrinus, and G. volans) across all sampled geographic areas in North and Central America and a temporal range of 130 years. We observed fluorescence in museum specimens (n = 109) and wild individuals (n = 5) on both dorsal and ventral surfaces. Museum specimens of three co-occurring, diurnal sciurid species (Sciurus carolinensis, S. niger, and Tamiasciurus hudsonicus) were also examined but did not fluoresce. The ecological significance of this trait in the nocturnal–crepuscular flying squirrels warrants further investigation.
It's been about three-and-a-half years (!) since our last edition of Know Your Minor League Mascot. The official mascot of the Richmond AA team is the Flying Squirrels, and it also serves as the unofficial mascot of Gheorghe: The Blog due to the squirrel enthusiast on staff. We may, however, have a new unofficial minor league mascot here: the Hartford Yard Goats.
We've been remiss in lauding the Yard Goats here previously. Last year was their first year with this mascot--they were the New Brittain Rock Cats previously. They have two (two!) goat mascots: a green goat named Chompers and a blue goat named Chew Chew. Everyone at G:TB loves goats and I could really use two goats of my own these days.
I learned of the Yard Goats on Sunday morning when the clowns on WFAN were discussing their four game stand in Richmond ... against the Flying Squirrels! Worlds colliding. I'm not sure who to root for, but the Squirrels took two of the first three games.
Yard Goat merch is strong to quite strong. This hat has a lot of character.
This tshirt imploring you to "Don't be a hero, be a goat" has a lot going for it as well.
Nothing, however, packs more bang for your buck (pun!) than this magnet.
For a mere $3 you can tell someone "You will always be a goat to me" without having to actually talk to them. Where were these magnets 25 years ago?
Even if the Yard Goats don't supplant the Flying Squirrels as your favorite minor league mascot, I hope you can find some room in your heart for this herd. Herd up, as they say.
One for all and all for one/We salute our champions/Hail to the Flying Squirrels/Who stand for you and me
So begins 'Hail to the Flying Squirrels', the brand new anthem for Richmond's AA Eastern League franchise, an affiliate of the San Francisco Giants. As you might imagine, we're predisposed to like all things Flying Squirrel, but minor league baseball ain't exactly renowned for its highbrow cultural institutions. And as a result, we received the news that the Squirrels had released an anthem with appropriate caution.
As it turns out, it's a catchy little ditty. The songwriters from Richmond-based production company Black Iris, obviously listen to their share of the Dropkick Murphys and Flogging Molly, to name just a few.
I can't figure out how to embed an mp3 file into this newfangled blogging interface, so you'll have to go here to listen to the song (and download it, 'cause I know you'll dig it and want to have it at your fingertips).
I didn't just consume a bunch of western media on my trip to Japan, I consumed a lot of culture, albeit not as much as I wanted to. I missed my connecting flight from San Francisco to Osaka and had to spend the night in San Francisco. As a result, my jetlag acclimation/cultural exposure day was mostly consumed by my flight the next day. I never had a big block of free time to travel around the prefecture, so I mostly made brief field trips around my hotel. This limited my cultural exposure to shopping centers and train stations, but I think I developed a fair understanding of day-to-day life in the Kansei region based on what stores stock and thus what people buy. Here are my favorite mundane aspects of southern Japanese culture.
It's perfectly acceptable to carry, and use, a washcloth in public
Osaka is really fucking hot and humid in the summer. So much so that even people from India travel to Osaka and step outside from the airport into the Osaka air for the first time they say "Oh hell no, this shit is way too hot and humid." At least that's what my cabbie said.
It's so hot that everyone sweats their asses off constantly, even inside. Women carry fans and parasols. Men carry washcloths, sometimes even bar towels, everywhere including the office. It's remarkably common to be in a meeting with ten other sweaty dudes, all wiping their faces with small hunks of terrycloth. Aside from Jerry Tarkanian, John Thompson and Ford Prefect, you just don't see towels in the workplace.
After sitting in two days of meetings like this I went to the mall across from my hotel and got myself one of these washcloths. They're technically considered a handkerchief--one side of the washcloth has this gauzy cotton material called tenugui sewn onto it, but it's still a washcloth. Here's mine.
Yes, those are bears. Yes, one of those bears has "ZZZ" next to him indicating that he's asleep--I guess the bear doesn't speak Japanese because he doesn't snore in katakana symbols. And yes, another of those bears is wearing a small green fedora. All my other choices were more preposterous, this is what you get for ¥400.
Anyway, I can't say enough good things about these super-absorbant handkerchiefs and being in a place where it's socially acceptable to constantly mop your forehead with one.
Everything is connected by underground tunnels
Because it's so stupidly hot in Osaka in the summer, they built a series of tunnels to connect just about every important location. Sort of like how places like Montreal and Rochester have tunnels to avoid the winter wind and snow, Osaka has tunnels to avoid the summer humidity sun. Now, navigating these tunnels is no bargain. Here's an example.
The main tributaries mercifully have English signage and my iPhone worked everywhere (thank god for Google maps), so I was able to avoid the scorching sun without getting hideously lost. Unfortunately the tunnels are not air conditioned so I still had to constantly wipe my face with my bear washcloth. Nevertheless, being able to get around completely underground is a source of pride among Osakans, and when I told one of my friends that I traveled to a venue over a mile away and back using only the tunnels, he smiled and said he was proud of me. He then fed me some ridiculous food and drink, which I'll describe another time.
They still have record stores
There was a Tower Records 50 feet from my hotel! And it sold actual records! And it had a whole section dedicated to A Tribe Called Quest!
It also had a very very deep selection of hiphop CDs. Here's just a snapshot from the K's:
KMD, Kool G Rap, Kool Keith, Kool Moe Dee and Kurtis Blow!?! I don't know if there's a record store in Brooklyn that has a CD in stock for all of these artists. I was impressed.
The 69 bus is everywhere
Or so it felt. I saw these bus stops all over the place.
The bathrooms are fantastic and the toilets are divine
Japan is spotless. No litter, no gum on the sidewalk, no dog shit on the curb. Immaculate. This includes all the bathrooms, including public bathrooms at the train station. I have suffered through circumstances requiring me to move my bowels at the old Yankee Stadium, an Amtrak Northeast Corridor train, and the worst gas station bathroom in Cape Cod (even Ryan Lochte wouldn't shit there--filthy, no light, the door had no knob mechanism so it wouldn't close, and no toilet paper (which I discovered after I had shat my emergency shit, so I had to wipe with the discarded Marlboro Reds box I found on the floor--had Marlin been there I would've used my underpants but it didn't occur to me at the time).
By contrast, defecating in Japan is a pleasure. Think of the nicest bathroom you've ever used. That's what they're all like. But better. The toilets all have features to make shitting better. They have a fan that sucks away shitty smells and a noisemaker that covers your shitty noises. They have heated seats. And most importantly, they have a washlet, a faucet that pops out of the seat and washes your bung with warm water. It's like taking a shower after every shit, and it's divine. The toilets also have fans to blow you dry after the washlet does its thing, but the fans are often too weak to really dry you so you still need some TP to finish up.
We're redoing zbathroom soon and I'm getting one of these toilets. That's how life-changing they are (and who knew we'd use the "toto asswash" label again?). Anyone who lives without a Toto toilet is a filthy animal.
They love the Simpsons
I don't know if that's true, but I saw these socks at a department store that carried stuff from Louis Vuitton, Gucci, Prada, and all those other fancy brands you see at high-end US malls.
They love sneakers
This wasn't a surprise. Tons of cool kicks. Here's a small sampling.
I should've bought those Takumi Sen joints but I didn't.
They love tchotchkes
Not Chochkie's, tchotchkes. Many stores have these things that look like bubblegum machines, but instead of bubblegum they dispense tchotchkes. For example, are you into Minions? They have a tchotchke machine for that:
Note that Dave, Tom, Jerry, Tim and Stuart (well, Stewart) are also the names of several of our brothers.
Are cats in beanies or babushkas more your thing? Japan has you covered:
It's a great way to get rid of your pocket change before you leave the country.
The greatest regret of my trip, and perhaps the past 10 years of my life, is that I used my last ¥100 coins buying Minions for zson and pink raccoons for zdaughter (they love Minions and raccoons, respectively) only to turn the corner (they have rows and rows of these things at Yodobashi Camera, which is a batshit crazy store deserving of its own post) to find this:
Sorry rob. Next time I'll get you some fingertip-sized flying squirrel tchotchkes.
My wife thinks it's a mid-life crisis. I don't really see it that way, but if it means she'll give me permission to do stuff I want to do, then I'll let her believe it.
As most of the Gheorghies know, I jumped out of an airplane yesterday with FOGTB Kevin Reynolds, veteran of more than 4,000 jumps of his own. It's a bit of a copout to say that words can't describe the experience, but it's also mostly true. It was a cocktail of adrenaline, nausea, fear, euphoria and release. And it was completely, utterly, entirely a blast.
I've uploaded raw footage from Reynolds' GoPro to my Google Drive for your viewing pleasure/mocking fun. I'll do the same with the professionally produced HD video, as well, but I don't have that with me. (Note that I can't share anything in Google Drive publicly, so I've only shared with the email addresses I have for FOGTB. If you can't view it, shoot me a note.)
Before you watch, a couple of observations:
It's really damn hard to look cool wearing the egg-shaped leather beanie/helmet required of all tandem jumpers.
I didn't feel terribly nervous at any point, but you sure wouldn't know that by the look on my face in the first few moments of this video. My face looks frozen.
Zman and Mark may catch a few glimpses of my Rod Lavers, one of which came untied mid-jump.
Careful observers will also enjoy the t-shirt I chose for the adventure.
The video is about 8 minutes long. Feel free to skip through the middle section, unless you'd like to hear the conversation I have with Reynolds.
The whole thing, from boarding the plane to landing, lasted maybe 20 minutes. Much of it, as you might imagine, is a blur. I remember saying 'holy shit!' a lot.
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