Fun With Fungus?

Fungible

It sounds like a fun word, but what does it mean? If I had to guess, I’d say…

adj. Likely to become covered with mold or fungus. As in, “Don’t bother saving the leftover beets. They’re fungible.”

But alas, it is not about fun or fungus.

“Fungible” can be an adjective or a noun. As an adjective, its most basic meaning is “interchangeable.” As a noun, it describes an item that is interchangeable with another item of the same kind.

I had a hard time grasping the concept of fungibility. Many of the definitions I found used grain as an example, saying that a particular amount of grain had the same value as another like amount of the same grain. And I said, “Why would anyone want to trade like amounts of the same grain? What would be the point?” So I had to think about it for a while. It helped to realize that the word is most often used by investors and lawyers.

I think what it means is that if I owed you a dollar, you wouldn’t care which dollar bill I gave you. Any American dollar bill would do, though you might be offended if I gave you one covered with goo. Dollar bills are fungible. Similarly, if I had corn from Nebraska and you had the same kind of corn from Kansas, our corn would be fungible on the market. That is, it would be traded at exactly the same value because, for most intents and purposes, 100 pounds of corn is 100 pounds of corn.

So I guess the only way that fungibility relates to fungus is when 100 pounds of shiitake is 100 pounds of shiitake.

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Why Now?

One day, a couple of years ago, I was waiting in line at a Stop & Shop, absentmindedly looking out the window when I noticed a prismatic blob in my field of vision. I thought I must have caught a bad glare or something, but the blob was persistent. It stuck around for at least 20 minutes, and moved from one side of my eye to the other before finally going away. I thought it was a one-time occurrence and tried not to think about it again.

The next time it happened, the blob completely blocked the peripheral vision in one eye and scared the crap out of me. Convinced that I was going blind, I went to the eye doctor. He gave my eyes a thorough check and then asked, “Do you get a headache when it happens?” “Maybe. I didn’t really notice,” I told him. His diagnosis: migraine headache. He said that even without the headache, that the vision loss was a symptom of migraine. Imagine my relief. It was “just” a migraine. Migraines are bad, but they’re better than blindness, IMHO.

I think now that I had been having headaches and that I was just ignoring them. I have a high tolerance for pain and don’t pay it any mind unless it’s so extreme that I can’t function anymore. As the migraines got worse, the headaches got to that point. Sometimes, I couldn’t even keep my eyes open because the beams of light felt like daggers in my eyes.

I didn’t want the migraines to become debilitating so I did a little research about triggers. For me, bright lights, the television, and caffeine were the immediate triggers, but it was my irregular sleeping and eating habits that seemed to be the underlying cause. I started eating regular meals and going to sleep at the same time every night, and voila. The migraines mostly went away. I would sometimes still see the blobs, but they didn’t impinge on my vision unless I was looking at something very bright. The headaches subsided to a level I could easily ignore.

Until today. I was out running errands when, without warning, a multicolored V-shaped blob appeared in my left eye. It wasn’t too bad, so I continued on my way, but then it moved into my right eye and blocked my peripheral vision. Then the headache started, a headache that is still with me right now. It hurts! The computer screen isn’t helping, so I’m going to have to finish this up now.

What I want to know is why, after at least a year without any major problems, I should suddenly get this wicked migraine. I’ve been eating and sleeping and generally feeling better than I have in months. Why now? What did I do to deserve this?

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The Art of Effigy

The art of effigy is not dead. As I was driving around town today, I saw the figure of a football player strung from a tree. There was a group of men hanging out below it, admiring the handiwork. I assume it was a Giant, because a Pat would have caused less admiration and more rioting. People around here feel very strongly about their Pats!

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My Little Rhody

Have you ever noticed that Rhode Island is not an island? I had never thought about it until moving here, but soon the name became a point of irritation for me. I hate it when things aren’t what they say they are. How dare my state lie!

It turns out that there’s a simple explanation behind the seeming misnomer. While Rhode Island may not be an island state, it does include some islands. One of them, the site of Newport, is usually called Aquidneck Island. However, its official name is “Rhode Island” and the state’s official name is “State of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations.” If you know those two key facts, the name becomes less an annoyance and more of an endearing quirk. Just don’t go looking for plantations in Providence! I doubt you’ll find many. The founders of the state used the word “plantation” to refer to a new colony.

The State of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations is no longer new colonial territory, but from my individual perspective, it is still an unexplored land. As the weather gets warmer, I plan to spend some real time in the exploration of this new home state of mine. I’ll be looking for traditional johnnycakes and for the best family-style chicken dinners, among other things. I’ll keep you posted on my discoveries.

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Evil Twin Says

When I make a mistake, I worry and worry and worry.

Not so Evil Twin. She says, “If you have rectified the mistake to the best of your ability, then it is but sand on the wind. Don’t look at it unless you want an eyeful of grit.”

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A Reader’s Demand

One of the characters in John Fowles’s The Magus says,

I burnt every novel I possessed. . . . Why should I struggle through hundreds of pages of fabrication to reach half a dozen very little truths?

I sometimes feel that way lately. When I’m at the bookstore and I read the jackets of new novels, they all sound like stories I’ve read before. I keep reminding myself that there are only so many stories that can be told, and that the real value of a story is in how it’s told. But even the tellings all sound the same these days. And if there’s no joy to be found in the language, nothing new in “getting there,” no great truths to be gleaned, then what is the point of ingesting all those lies? One’s mind could grow fat and bloated on such a diet and yet remain malnourished.

Give me beautiful language. Give me an exciting journey the likes of which I have never experienced before. Give me brilliant lies that yield big truths.

Give me all this or give me nonfiction!

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Dream Letter

I had a powerful dream the other night, the kind that sticks in your head so strongly that you’re still involved in it when you wake up. Sometimes, in your sleep-muddled mind, it’s hard to figure out which version of your life is the real one. When you finally sort it out, it can be a great relief to return to reality, or a crushing disappointment.

This dream I was able to sort from reality, but I had such a hard time shaking off the feelings it evoked, I wondered if there was some special significance to it. That thought was still with me when I ran across this quote:

A dream is a letter to yourself.

A sign, perhaps?

Wait. Do I believe in signs?

I guess, in a way, I do. Maybe a little dream interpretation would do me good.

Now, if only I could actually remember the dream . . .

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Avian Antics

A bird got into our attic yesterday. He flew around in a tizzy, battered the hanging light, and probably pooped on the floor, but he was polite enough to know when to leave. The window was opened for him and out he went.

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Some Choice!

I looked on-line to see when and where I should line up to vote for my favorite Democratic candidate. Good thing I hadn’t already put on my shoes. Rhode Island doesn’t vote until March!

People say that February’s Super Tuesday won’t decide the nomination, but that doesn’t change the fact that the majority of candidates have already dropped out. Other people in other states got to say which candidates I would be allowed to choose from, and that’s not fair. By the time we vote, Edwards may have gone the way of the dodo, leaving us with only Barack “Sock ‘Em” Obama and Hillary “Hit Low” Clinton as options.

I’m not entirely certain that we wouldn’t have been better off with a dodo.

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Not Persuaded

Hooray! I finished the first of my 10 must-read books for 2008—Jane Austen’s Persuasion.

What took me so long to read Persuasion? I read it twice! Why would I do such a thing? The language was such a distraction from the story that I read it once for story and once for language!

Persuasion by Jane Austen

Grade: B+

Some people will try to persuade you that this is Jane Austen’s best work. Continue reading

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