Blinded by science
The two science teachers in my ninth-grade class at Cleveland Junior High in Albuquerque were Mrs. Tenhaken and Mr. Mitsler. They were colleagues and friends, always seen sitting at lunch together and comparing notes at the end of the day. Notes that certainly had to do with daily crises involving a raging ocean of estrogen and testosterone on the part of their students.
Mrs. Tenhaken reminded me of the German actress Elke Sommer, who played Maria Gambrelli in the movie A Shot in the Dark, the first Pink Panther flick. One of my favorite scenes from the movie is when Inspector Clouseau, played by the brilliant Peter Sellers, tracks Sommer to a nudist camp. To infiltrate, he too must go au naturel. Clouseau strolls around the grounds with a guitar in front of his business looking for Gambrelli. After causing the usual plethora of slapstick gaffs, Clouseau finds the lovely Maria sitting on a bench in a clearing. Instead of being relieved to see him, Maria is horrified and points to a slumping body on another bench, that of the now latest murder victim in the movie. Rather than try to capture the moment, I’ll just quote directly from IMDB:
Maria Gambrelli : Clouseau! Over here! Quick. Listen. That's Do Do.
Clouseau : Do Do?
Maria Gambrelli : She's dead!
Clouseau : Dead? Do Do?
Maria Gambrelli : Yes! Do Do is dead!
I think you get the gist. Anyway, Mrs. Tenhaken was dramatically different from Maria Gambrelli in two respects. First, she wore thick black horn rim glasses. And second, she was also wicked smart. Sadly, Mrs. Tenhaken was not my teacher for the year. Mr. Mitsler was. But he was a good guy, always upbeat, and also wicked smart. And much to his credit, he never lost his sense of humor despite all the short-circuiting young motherboards in my class.
Just before Christmas break, Mr. Mitsler announced that we would be doing a special project after the holidays. Our project should make use of the scientific method which he then explained in great detail. From there, we should give the project some thought over the break and then present it to him when class was back in session. I had no idea what to do for a project, so made it a point to see Mr. Mitsler after class that very day. He suggested a half-dozen things, including tracking the change in shadows with the increasing daylight hours in the coming weeks after the winter solstice. He also mentioned doing some basic spectroscopy using different liquids and oils. I thanked him for his time and then left. As I walked out, I thought all the ideas sounded complicated, especially the bits about shadows and spectroscopy. I needed something more basic that would also grab my interest.
At some point during the holidays, the idea came to me. I had just returned home from seeing a friend. As I took off my jacket, I saw my mom watering all the plants in the living room. Mom was one of those people with a green thumb who could make a plant grow even in Sahara-like conditions. She even had a banana plant from my grandma’s farm in South Texas that was over four feet tall growing in the living room. Imagine, a banana plant (not tree) thriving in a heated and bone-dry house in Albuquerque during the winter.
After getting a snack and refreshing beverage, I went into the middle bedroom that my older brother Tom and I shared. Then I put on an LP of Beethoven’s ninth symphony on the record player, a portable unit that had a turn table and two detachable speakers.
While listening to the second movement, à la Huntley and Brinkley (historic inside reference), the idea for my project came to me. I would play different kinds of music for plants and see if it somehow affected their growth. I felt like Einstein. Not that Einstein, but the other Einstein who owned a chain of bagel shops.
I quickly drafted my plan. I would only use two kinds of music: classical and rock. The Beethoven would take care of the classical. I chose the first Led Zeppelin album for the rock music, a personal favorite. I’d also use two small potted plants. Every day I’d put the detachable speakers on either side, blasting Beethoven and Led Zeppelin for equal periods of time. Then I’d track the growth and any changes in the plants.
The first day back at school I told Mr. Mitsler about my plan. Much to his credit, he simply said, “wow, that’s interesting. Keep me posted on how it goes.” He did, however, give me the Spock one raised eyebrow.
The experiment commenced that day. I bought two small potted plants from a local grocery store as well as a notebook to track the experiment. Then I set the plants on my dresser next to the fuzzy warbles record player. Every day after school, I’d place speakers on either side of the plants and play 30 minutes from each record, while taking copious “scientific” notes. After a week, both plants began to wither. After 10 days, both were nye dead. I was flummoxed. I showed the plants to my mom. “Have you been watering them?” she asked. I replied negative. “Well of course they’re dead. You didn’t water them. All plants need watering.”
Talk about feeling like a wingnut. Not only did I have guilt written on my soul from committing adolescent planticide, my science project was also completely geschmekt. And we were supposed to report results to the class the following week.
After much youthful soul searching, I decided to come clean. I wrote my paper using the scientific method as an outline and then explained in detail how my project failed at every turn because I ignored it.
The following Monday we handed our project papers in. Then Mr. Mitsler had some of us read our papers and explain our experiments. No surprise I was one of the first chosen. When it was my turn, I slowly walked to the front of the class. Then, in my sincerest “you trusted me, you screwed up” demeanor, I explained my project to the class. They thought the very idea was hilarious. Then I told them how it had failed and why. More hilarity ensued.
Afterwards, I turned to Mr. Mitsler and said a quiet “sorry about that” before sitting down. He responded by saying something to the effect of “sometimes great failures bring about great learnings.” He then gave me a B-minus for the project. He was truly a kind man.
In the end, I failed on my science project even though I still got credit for it. Sometimes, I think I’ve been trying to make up for it ever since. To this day, I still read books on physics thinking that at some point I’ll understand quantum mechanics and dark matter. But then there’s the matter of poor Do Do. I think she’s still dead.
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