Reaching Infinity

When "The O.C." first premiered in August, 2003, it wasn't just the pretty people that drew me in. It wasn't only the witty dialog, the over the top teen drama, Peter Gallagher's eyebrow(s), the amazing soundtrack. It was also the iconic infinity pool.

I certainly didn't grow up rich. The swimming pool at the Holidome always had the same harsh edge on every side. The neighbors' pool always felt so constricting, so contained, so finite. But here in Orange County, with it's larger-than-my-garage poolhouse-cum-best bedroom ever, was a pool without limits, a pool who's surface seemed to stretch to infinity.

Finally, nine years after being introduced to the concept, I finally got to swim in an infinity pool, while traveling through northern Portugal, in Viana do Castelo.  While there was no sunset view of the Pacific from this pool (the actual filming location for the pilot episode being in Malibu, with the pool in question on the neighboring "Cooper family" property, and the poolhouse itself constructed just for the show), it still had the limitless feel in the water, and allowed me to see up close how the effect is achieved.

As these pools have a finite, though seemingly quite near infinite, cost, the water must be bounded on all sides even if it appears not to be. Otherwise it would be a hole with a large puddle next to it. The infinity edge of the pool is thus constructed just tall enough to maintain the desired depth of water, and the pool is filled barely above this level, 1/4 inch or less above the lip. As light passes through this thin layer, the larger index of refraction of the water as compared to the air (approx. 1.3 vs 1.0) further hides the pool's interior edge from view, as we all remember from Snell's Law), which relates the sines of the angles of incidence and refraction to the indices of refraction of the two media. The same effect is responsible for making filled pools look shallower than they actually are.

But the missing edge cannot constrain the water levels with the introduction of swimmers and other bodies to the pool. As the Greek mathematician Archimedes allegedly discovered in his bathtub in the 200s B.C., submerging an object displaces a volume of water equal to that of the object. Adding any volume of sexy O.C. swimmer to the pool will raise the water level some, even anorexically-skinny Marissa. Checking out the back side of the infinity pool shows the disappointing truth, that the rising water falls off into a trough to be collected and recirculated through the pool; it isn't held in by surface tension or some other magical force, nor does it trickle carelessly down the cliffside. I guess it's more cost-efficient this way, less wasteful. I never would've expected such logic from the Newport Elite.

Even though my infinity pool wasn't as impressive as some that I've seen, it was still fun to finally get to experience one. Now, to see how many of those others I can check off my list.

Volcanic Formations on Maui

Most people, including myself, come to Hawaii first for the world class beaches and amazing weather. Further down the list, and personally my second reason to visit, is the scenery. The islands' violent volcanic formation left behind a variety of structures  and landscapes that only enhance the paradise of this Pacific archipelago. In fact, as the Big Island's volcano is still active, the geography is still evolving to this day. Most of the steep, sharp cliffs are covered in luscious green grasses and trees. But some of the most interesting volcanic artifacts are the exposed jet black lava rocks themselves.

Misreading the guidebook had thwarted our activity plans for the day, so we spontaneously decided to drive all the way around west Maui to see what we could discover. (In a rare fit of promotion, "Maui Revealed" is one of the most fun guidebooks I've ever seen: http://www.wizardpublications.com/maui/maui.html. It is insanely informative, with more detail on finding less-obvious/secret sites than the other books, and written in a sarcastic style that my own hypothetical guidebooks would also incorporate.)

As with the Road to Hana (see a previous post), the northern road is, for long stretches, less complete than most people are used to. The description in "Maui Revealed" leads you to believe the steep, winding, narrow sections of barely-paved road are the most terrifying thing on Earth. Then again, after years of driving up and down Mt. Hopkins in Arizona when I worked on the Whipple 10m/VERITAS telescopes (http://linmax.sao.arizona.edu/help/FLWO/whipple.html) -- a 17 km stretch of unpaved, guardrail-less road that climbs over 4000 feet up the mountain side, where vehicles carry walkie-talkies to coordinate when to pull over to let opposing traffic pass, as there are few areas wide enough for two vehicles -- I have an unusually high tolerance for road "quality." Trust me, it's not bad at all. And the views along the way make it more than worth any white knuckles on the steering wheel.

The first lava-related stop we made was the Olivine Pools. The name comes from the semi-precious Olivine gem present in the rocks, which gives the pools a greenish tint, which is quite apparent next to the piercing blue of the open ocean. A steep hike down a rocky slope leads to a series of tide pools in a field of occasionally sharp rock. With the waves smashing on hardened lava, these pools provide a calm escape to relax up close with the fish. Though many decide to make the more daring leap and plunge into the deep deep waters of the main heart-shaped pool. Exploring around yields remarkable lava structures and reveals an ecological microcosm that, due to recent increases in tourism, is sadly no longer as isolated as it used to be. Regardless, the close proximity of calm vs. rough water is one of nature's dichotomies made beautifully apparent.

While the Olivine Pools exhibit only a little of how the elements can shape rock formations, the populated portion of western Maui has one of the more amazing examples of lava naturally sculpted into unnatural looking designs. Quite removed from the treacherous road to the Pools, our other main stop involved trekking across the golf course at the Ritz-Carlton and past an ancient, sacred burial ground (saved from demolition despite the hotel's best efforts to build closer to the water). The "Dragon's Teeth" are striking depictions of what happens when strong winds and ocean mist act to quickly cool flowing lava, producing sharp grey outcroppings that leave no doubt into why they were so named.

Long days of driving to experience the science of beautiful places definitely deserves a rewarding meal afterwards. And what better place to investigate than the hilariously named Cafe O'Lei. It's not a coffee shop, not Spanish, not Irish, but instead delicious Hawaiian cuisine. I do find it tough to resist such bad puns, and thankfully I was not disappointed.

Puppets and Muppets in Atlanta

If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times: you can spend all the time you want reading travel guides, but the best way to find something truly amazing in a new city is to just wander. Nine times out of ten, you will stumble across something you never would've dreamed of finding, frequently something very few people actually visit. This is how I found the Center for the Puppetry Arts (http://www.puppet.org/).

Returning to Atlanta to visit again ten years after spending a summer there doing research at Georgia Tech, I was driving up and down the same old streets in Midtown, when I spotted a sign for the Center. Really, it was the mention of Jim Henson that drew me in. I didn't pull over, but looked it up as soon as I got back to the hotel. I knew this would be my jackpot attraction this trip.

Once you've done Atlanta's main attractions (Georgia Aquarium, World of Coke), and sampled the plethora of amazing restaurants and rooftop bars, one sometimes wonders what ELSE there is to do in this town. Even though it is quite tiny, the collection at the Center for Puppetry Arts is an incredible stop to make, for both adults and for children.

The museum visit begins at a seemingly harmless steel drum behind a fence, with a marked button that begs to be pressed. The ominous warning "May frighten small children" makes it all the more enticing. The button engages the piece's mechanics, and the barrel transforms into a quite amazing Phoenix, the symbol of the city of Atlanta. It truly is a tad frightening. It properly sets the tone of beauty, wonder, and uneasiness (even, dare I say, terror) that guides the rest of the exhibits.

The following rooms are a mix of history and nostalgia,

artful and obscure,

with puppets from several time periods, and displays focused on puppetry in different cultures (Asian shadow puppetry, Punch & Judy, African artifacts).

There's even a "Naughty Room" for adults only, featuring slightly raunchy audio and video from Madame, as well as the puppet itself.

While I appreciate the history and cultural significance of puppetry, and was fascinated by all the examples in the collection, what excited me most were the Jim Henson pieces. Unfortunately, the museum is arranged such that the first piece of his you encounter is the most terrifying of all, one of the Skeksis from "The Dark Crystal." Personally, I still have nightmares about that movie, and I haven't seen it since I was 8.

After I regain composure and start breathing again, I discover the many other examples of Henson's work that make me feel warm and fuzzy inside. Labyrinth,

Fraggle Rock,

Sesame Street,

The Muppet Show.

I remember exactly where I was when I found out Jim Henson had died. We were on my school's week-long Fifth Grade Trip to Washington, D.C. For some reason, dinner this night was at the Food Court of some downtown shopping mall in Crystal City. As it was losing popularity even then, we were pretty much the only people around. Reporters from local papers spotted children, and starting asking us how we felt about the news that day. Still not really comprehending "death," it didn't really hit me until later. But I knew what the Muppets had meant to me growing up, and it truly was a sad day.

Walking past the Henson examples brought me back to that day. And made me pleasantly nostalgic for how the Muppets changed the world. The Center had accomplished its goal with me. Visiting made me see and truly, deeply comprehend what a powerful effect Puppetry has had on the world today, how varied it can be, how essential it is to the culture. And how the arts, not just puppets, can have such an emotional hold on everyone.