Twenty years from now, you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than those you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from safe harbor. Catch the wind in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.
Raising kids as you and your parents grow old & older illustrates vividly the surprising number of similar experiences humans have when they are very young and very old. Today Shel Silverstein reminded me of that with this poem: “The little boy and the old man.”
Said the little boy, “Sometimes I drop my spoon.”
Said the little old man, “I do that too.”
The little boy whispered, “I wet my pants.”
“I do like too,” laughed the little old man.
Said the little boy, “I often cry.”
The old man nodded, “So do I.”
“But worst of all,” said the boy, “it seems
Grown-ups don’t pay attention to me.”
And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
“I know what you mean,” said the little old man.
My PhD advisor Russ, celebrated his career by inviting all his students to give ignite talks in Oregon for the Festschrift of Russ McDuff. This is my 5-minute presentation in his honor with 20 slides advancing every 15 seconds as required:
We might be able to get this to display better using some sort of modal that can “pop-up” the WP post content, or part of it, with appropriate dimensions (1080 pixel height)… This WP Post Modal plugin might help.
“We are all caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied into a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.”
— Martin Luther King Jr.
What if by “we” he meant all sentient beings?
Ric Bradley’s footage from a 2-month-long (!) back-country skiing adventure in Tuolomne Meadows (Yosemite National Park, CA, USA) via Tioga Pass just after World War II (Feb-Mar, 1947). Narration added by Ric Bradley in 2002.
Ric taught my parents and me to telemark when we reached Colorado from Chicago around 1972. Thanks to him, his wife Dorry, and long-lost friends like Randy Bobier, I continue to seek out hut-to-hut style adventures in the Pacific Northwest akin to the great outings Ric catalyzed, often threading together powder-covered 10th Mountain Division huts.
Fridge set to 3 (5 oC); freezer set to A (-14 oC)
Power demand after reaching target temperatures:
98W right and left open
73 left (freezer) closed; right (fridge) open
57 left open; right closed
R+L = 65; R=~40; L=~24 (probably mostly the wattage of the light bulbs)
Power demand with compressor at work:
330 Compressor starts
290-95 >10min (steady state while working to reach target temperatures)
Watt-up measurements of old fridge:
10.54 kWhr for 60:27 hr
= 174 W
Watt-up measurements of new fridge:
Fridge set to 3 oC; deli drawer set to 3 oC; freezer set to -19 oC (changed to -15 oC on 11/16/17)
5.62 kWhr for 80:15 hr
= 70 W
~ 40% of old load
There’s no home-improvement motivation like sewer water dripping through the ceiling onto your couch! I had noticed the cracked tiles around the base of the toilet a couple years ago, but chose to ignore them. Our “master bath” (shower+toilet) had clearly been a cheap finish to a big addition and I wanted to believe the cracked tile dated to the 1998 toilet installation, rather than suggesting an underlying problem.
Of course, I was wrong. A quick examination of the toilet bolts showed that they were rusted through on one side and nearly corroded-through on the other. The subsequent rocking of the toilet had allowed flushed water to leak past the wax seal and slowly saturate the particle board underlying the tiles, as well as the 19mm plywood sub-floor. The moisture and rot further destabilized the toilet and the surrounding tile began to crack with the rocking. Luckily, the ceiling rafters were unscathed (dry, no rot), so I only had to demo about 1 m^2 of the subfloor and 2 m^2 of the drywall ceiling in the playroom below (after cleaning the poop water out of the couch).
Looking at all the carefully labeled bathroom tiles and starting to imagine chipping all the old grout off of them, I realized that I’ve always wanted to try a cork floor! So, out came all the rest of the tiles and particle board, and into the trash went all those labeled tiles, along with the moldy drywall and sewage-soaked wood.
With the rafters drying out and new drywall on the ceiling, the main problem became how to install a cork floor. The Internets made it clear that not only is there some controversy about using cork below grade, and in basements, bathrooms, and kitchens, but also manufactured cork comes in many forms: cork tiles with adhesive backing; cork tiles that click together; cork tiles that you glue down, often with a water-borne contact cement (like the oft-recommended Waktol D3540, Roberts 7250, and Dritac 6200); and tongue & groove cork planks. Most of these products cost 3-4$/ft^2 (with tiles usually being 1 square foot each), plus $10-50/gallon for glue. One basement job estimate was about 2x that cost installed, ~8$/ft^2 for snap-in cork floor delivered and installed by Home Depot. Another estimate in a floor-contractor forum was 10-15$/ft^2 installed. I only needed to cover about 20 ft^2, so the DIY materials cost of a few bucks/square-foot didn’t seem too expensive, but many of the manufactured cork products (e.g. GreenClaimed, Torly or Forna) come pre-coated with a sealant on the upper surface or require sealing of that surface and/or seams after installation (most commonly polyurethane, sometimes with an embedded more durable material like ceramic beads). I’ve grown to hate polyurethane from having it fail on our oak floors (e.g. with water damage from a houseplant or wear in a high-traffic area) and then be near-impossible to spot-repair.
Instead, I wanted a bare or uncoated cork so I could seal it with an eco-friendly, low-VOC product made by Osmona. I had loved re-finishing oak floors in our previous house with Osmo Polyx-Oil (hardwax-oil”) and was delighted to notice that it was also recommended for cork floors.
As a boat-builder familiar with water infiltration and damage, I was also worried about the seams between cork tiles or planks in the floor of a bathroom (or kitchen). Would water from a dripping shower or cleaned human or overflowing toilet work its way through the seams? Most folks seemed to recommend only the pre-sealed tiles in bathrooms, and then sealing the seams with 3-4 coats of a sealant. That sounded like a lot of work and waiting, as well as the normal nightmare of having to re-finish the polyurethane every 3-7 years or replace the whole thing when only a spot repair was really necessary.
Thus, to pioneer a super-cheap yet functional solution I went looking for DIY bathroom or kitchen floors made with bare cork (ideally cork underlayment which costs only ~$0.80/ft^2 — 3-6x cheaper than tiles!), but found little guidance about how to install a permanent, waterproof cork floor. This temporary cork floor from a renter in New York was heading in the right direction, but they just laid underlayment down without any gluing or sealing. This general guide to installing bare cork from familyhandyman was helpful and taught me that the traditional finish for a cork floor was a paste wax.
Without much guidance available, I decided to experiment. I bought some 6mm (1/4″) thick underlayment for $0.78/ft^2 from Amazon as well as range of adhesives and the Osmo-made sealant I hoped to use. Using 20cm squares, I tried gluing down single layers on a piece of clean 1/2″ plywood, as well as laminating triple layers of cork underlayment. I also coated experimental squares of cork with the Osmo Polyx-Oil.
The sealant test surprised me a bit. The epoxy was just too hard, making the cork feel stiff and reducing the likelihood that I’d ever get it off (or even get through it to the screws holding down the underlying plywood) in a worst case scenario. The 3M spray glue and the DAP contact cement wasn’t holding down the edges well, plus I couldn’t imagine coating 2 surfaces, keeping them from sticking to themselves while getting tacky, and then successfully lining them up on the first (and only) try. I was going to go with the official cork underlayment adhesive (easy to spread with the right tool and forgiving if the cork needed to be repositioned once in contact with the adhesive), but it was stinky and didn’t cure completely, even after a few days (especially in the 3-layer lamination test).
In the end, I went with interior/exterior Titebond II wood glue. Though I could have used an extra bottle of it, I ended up using some plain old interior Titebond glue and it seems to have mostly held the cork down. In places where I detected it was lifting a bit as I cleaned it and then sealed it, I was able to inject some 2P-10 superglue (cyanoacrylite) using a syringe attached to a ball inflator needle, getting the loose portions to stick down by applying pressure for a minute or two. After replacing the molding, I caulked the top of it (as well as the base of the shower) and let it dry for ~24 hours.
I put the Osmo Polyx-Oil put down in two coats. First coat went on thick (used about 1/2 of the 750ml can) and dried and soaked in for 36 hours. Then I installed the toilet flange, wax seal, and toilet. The second coat of Polyx-Oil took less (about 150ml).
I may add a third or fourth coat if the water doesn’t bead up enough, or I decide to try to fill up the voids in the cork over time…
So far (a few days into use of the bathroom), all family members seem satisfied. There’s general agreement that the cork has a warm feeling — both to the touch with bare feet and in terms of the colors in the bathroom. My only gripe so far is that the cork and sealant are giving off a noticable waxy/woody smell. With luck it will go away, but I’m worried the solvents in the Polyx-Oil are interacting with the cork organics and/or the Titebond adhesive under the cork. Luckily, the cork seems to be staying adhered to the underlying plywood fine… I’ll provide updates as we make further observations and use the bathroom more.
- Final DIY materials/tools cost: $65 total, including experiments; $47 for cork flooring (underlayment, adhesive, and sealant) which for 20 sq.ft. area comes to ~$2.40/ft^2
- Spreadsheet with source and links
Test results: adhesives
- Titebond wood glue
- 3M spray glue
- Dap water-borne contact cement
- Roberts 1407 (wanted Roberts 7250 as recommended on cork underlayment label, but could only find locally in 4-gallon containers)
- System Three epoxy
Test results: sealants
- Osmo Polyx-Oil (interior)
- Osmo Deck oil (exterior)
- Fill voids in cork with Osmo UK wood filler or another wood filler?
Driving north out of Albuquerque with my parents last month to celebrate my aunt’s and uncle’s 50th anniversary, we learned from the Internet that our dear friends Jock and Holly Cobb have passed away. Jock was my god-father and immortalized himself in my mind early on, mostly by convincing me (as a ~6-year-old) that it would be a good idea to rent a very large rock from him at a compounding interest rate, which I’ve done for more than 40 years! He was always an inspiration — whether reclining naked in the outflow stream of a Colorado glacier when I first met him, or demonstrating the latest prototype of his solar-powered water purifier in the New Mexican sunshine when Annie and I last saw them in the early 2000s.
Both Jock and Holly were wonderful people, full of ideas, compassion, principle, and creativity. I’m going to take the time to get to know them a bit better this winter. Perhaps you should do so, too. Here’s my reading list:
Jock took some amazing photographs during WWII when he was a conscientious objector working as an ambulance driver in north Africa for the American Field Service. Thankfully, they made it back to the States and through the decades to be published recently (in 2013) as Fragments of Peace in a World at War. You can buy the book directly from the Cobb family via
“War will exist until that distant day when the conscientious objector enjoys the same reputation and prestige that the warrior does today.” –Letter to a Navy friend, quoted in Arthur M. Schlesinger, Jr., A Thousand Days: John F. Kennedy in the White House (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1965), p. 88.
NYT article (2013) regarding the photographs
John Cander (Jock) Cobb II, MD, MPH
John Candler Cobb II, known to all as “Jock”, was born July 8, 1919 in Boston, MA. He died June 20, 2016 in Albuquerque, NM. After earning his B.A. in Astronomy from Harvard, he volunteered as an ambulance driver with the American Field Service in World War II. This experience and his association with the Quakers around this time, led him to his lifelong devotion to the cause of peace and to his career in medicine. He returned from the war to earn his MD from Harvard, and an MPH from Johns Hopkins. While in medical school he met Radcliffe student Holly Imlay-Franchot on a skiing trip. They were married for 67 years until Holly died in 2014.
After teaching at Johns Hopkins in maternal and child health, Jock began a career in public health when he moved to Albuquerque, NM in 1956 to work for the Indian Health Service. In 1960, he moved with Holly and their four children to Lahore, Pakistan, where he directed a Family Planning Research project. In 1965, the family settled in Denver, CO, where he became professor and chairman of the Department of Preventive Medicine at the University of Colorado School of Medicine. Realizing the importance of environmental health early on, he was a member of the task force studying the Rocky Flats Plutonium Plant and Uranium Enrichment Plant, which were shut down as a result of this work. He also served on the Governor’s Scientific Advisory Council, and tackled Denver’s notorious “brown cloud” as a member of the Air Pollution Control Commission. His work with international public health continued with shorter assignments in Indonesia, the Philippines, Togo, and China. He is honored to have his work and papers archived in the University of Colorado Archives in Boulder, CO.
In 1985, Jock retired from the University of Colorado Medical School, and he and Holly returned to live in the house they had built in Corrales, NM. They continued to travel abroad and enjoyed summers at their mountain cabin in Alice, CO. Jock’s inventive spirit and dedication to health and the earth led him to develop a solar sanitation system for water and waste. While active in the world, he also treasured quiet time in nature, played cello, wrote poetry, and took many photographs. In the last decade of his life, Jock revisited the photographs he took while serving as ambulance driver in Italy, North Africa, and Syria. He distilled his dedication to peace in the book Fragments of Peace in a World at War, which includes his photographs, poetry, and narrative.
He is survived by his children Loren, Nat, Bethany, and Julianne; grandchildren and great grandchildren; and many people whose lives he touched.
Published in Albuquerque Journal from June 26 to June 29, 2016– See more at:
Helen Imlay (Holly) Cobb
1925 – 2014 (age 89)
Helen Imlay Franchot Cobb was an artist, a musician and a teacher. Holly grew up in New York State, and graduated from Radcliffe College with an AB in International Affairs. She and her husband Dr. John C (Jock) Cobb lived Baltimore MD, Corrales NM, and in Pakistan before settling in Denver, where he was a professor at CU Medical School. She taught art and kindergarten at Graland School. She leaves a beautiful portfolio of paintings and note cards of the peaks by their cabin in Alice, Colorado. She is survived by Jock, her husband of 67 years, her brother Dick Franchot, children Loren, Nat, Bethany and Julianne, and grands and greats. In lieu of flowers, donate to Planned Parenthood or AFSC.
Published in Denver Post from May 16 to May 17, 2014
Archives of Jock’s work
Cobb, Dr. John C. 83 linear feet, 1960-1993Dr. John Cobb (b. 1919), M.D., Harvard University (1948), and Master of Public Health, Johns Hopkins University (1954), became a professor of community health in the Department of Preventative Medicine and Biometrics at the University of Colorado School of Medicine in 1965, where he is currently an emeritus professor. Dr. Cobb was appointed by Governor Lamm and Congressman Wirth to the Lamm-Wirth Task Force on Rocky Flats in 1974. From 1975 to 1982, he worked as principal investigator on an EPA contract to study human plutonium burdens in people who lived near the Rocky Flats Nuclear Weapons Facility. He has also served on several other councils and commissions concerning Rocky Flats and Three Mile Island. The collection contains files relating to Dr. Cobb’s medical career including: plutonium study papers; material on air and water pollution, recycling, bioethics, holistic medicine, and urban health ecology; Rocky Flats and Pakistan radiation studies; and teaching materials, reports, and conference papers. Guide available in Archives.
An example photograph
“The world looks so different after learning science. For example, trees are made of air, primarily. When they are burned, they go back to air, and in the flaming heat is released the flaming heat of the sun which was bound in to convert the air into tree. And in the ash is the small remnant of the part which did not come from air, that came from the solid Earth, instead. These are beautiful things, and the content of science is wonderfully full of them. They are inspiring and they can be used to inspire others.” — Richard Feynmann, physicist, California Inst. of Technology.
“We are living our lives as energy hunter-gatherers rather than energy farmers. The midwest is farmland for windpower and biomass; the southern states and California are farmlands for solar energy.” — Dan Kammen, Renewable and Appropriate Energy Laboratory, Univ. of California, Berkeley, on Talk of the Nation, Science Friday, 13 September 2002.
“We need a Manhatten Project for energy independence in the US.” — Dennis O’Brien, University of Oklahoma.
“As long as we follow a spiritual approach promising salvation, miracles, liberation, then we are bound by the “golden chain of spirituality.” Such a chain might be beautiful to wear, with its inlaid jewels and intricate carvings, but nevertheless, it imprisons us. People think they can wear the golden chain for decoration without being imprisoned by it, but they are deceiving themselves. As long as one’s approach to spirituality is based upon enriching ego, then it is spiritual materialism, a suicidal process rather than a creative one. All the promises we have heard are pure seduction. We expect the teachings to solve all our problems; we expect to be provided with magical means to deal with our depressions, our aggressions, our sexual hangups. But to our surprise we begin to realize that this is not going to happen. It is very disappointing to realize that we must work on ourselves and our suffering rather than depend upon a savior or the magical power of yogic techniques. It is disappointing to realize that we have to give up our expectations rather than build on the basis of our preconceptions. We must allow ourselves to be disappointed, which means the surrendering of me-ness, my achievement. We would like to watch ourselves attain enlightenment, watch our disciples celebrating, worshiping, throwing flowers at us, with miracles and earthquakes occurring and gods and angels singing and so forth. This never happens. The attainment of enlightenment from ego’s point of view is extreme death, the death of self, the death of me and mine, the death of the watcher. It is the ultimate and final disappointment. Treading the spiritual path is painful. It is a constant unmasking, peeling off of layer after layer of masks. It involves insult after insult.”
Chögyam Trungpa, The Myth of Freedom and the Way of Meditation
What insights from science could blur the boundary between self and the rest of Nature, or even the boundary between life and death?
Feynman’s quote about trees being and becoming air as they grow and recycle is in the right vein. Contemplate the past and fate of the molecules in each lungful of air or mouthful of water. How many of the molecules that make up “me” are part of “you” or your dog, or your mortal enemy, tomorrow? Of the molecules that made “me” uniquely me (the DNA in an egg from my mother and sperm from my father), how many are the same in you, or a monkey, or any animal, the plants I eat as a vegetarian, or the bacteria in my gut? When I die, what will “my” molecules become (if buried on land, or cremated, or “buried” at sea)?
Similarly, what are the origins and fates of the ideas and culture that make “me” me? Who taught me what I know and believe? What will become of the memes I have created?
And maybe most profoundly, what makes “me” alive and what happens to “me” or at least my consciousness when I die?