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Smog Screen: Conservative Media Contradict Health Experts On Air Quality
Written by Shauna Theel
Conservative media claim stricter standards for ground-level ozone, the primary component of smog, are unreasonable and unnecessary. In fact, EPA is strengthening the standards because health experts, including the scientific panel that advised the Bush administration, have said that the standards set in 2008 are not sufficient to protect the public.
Conservative Media Claim Stricter Ozone Standards Are Unnecessary
WSJ Op-ed Claims It Is Not "Even Clear" A Stricter Standard Is "Necessary Or Desirable." In a Wall Street Journal op-ed, John Engler, the President of the Business Roundtable, asserted: "There's nothing reasonable or balanced about the Environmental Protection Agency's proposal to tighten national air-quality standards for ozone emissions at this time." Calling for the EPA to delay rulemaking until 2013, Engler added: "There is no reason to rush through new standards before it is even clear they are necessary or desirable. [Wall Street Journal, 7/26/11]
IBD: Standard "Will Do Little, If Anything, To Improve Public Health." An Investor's Business Daily editorial claims stricter standards "will cost millions of jobs as companies spend increasingly large amounts of money to scrub increasingly small amounts of pollutants out of the air," adding, "All this money, however, will do little, if anything, to improve public health, despite what green groups or the American Lung Association might insist." [Investor's Business Daily, 7/13/11]
Wash. Times: EPA Wants "A Few Fewer Parts Per Million Of Ozone In Already Clean Air." From a Washington Times op-ed by Steve Milloy: "Ask any unemployed person whether he or she would rather have a job that pays well or a few fewer parts per million of ozone in already clean air." [Washington Times, 7/5/11]
EPA Is Revising Bush-Era Standard Deemed Too Lenient By Health Experts
EPA Is Setting The Standard At Levels Recommended By Bush Admin's Independent Science Advisors. The Washington Post reported:
In March 2008, the Bush administration set the ozone standard at 75 parts per billion, significantly higher than the 60 to 70 ppb recommended by the EPA's scientific advisory committee. In January 2010, EPA Administrator Lisa P. Jackson announced that she would set the standard somewhere between 60 and 70 ppb and would probably finalize it that summer. But the EPA has delayed issuing the final rule as oil companies, manufacturers and utilities have pressed for more time. [Washington Post, 7/19/11]
Congressional Research Service: Bush EPA "Did Not Follow The Advice Of The Agency's Independent Science Advisors." From a January 4 Congressional Research Service report:
In making his decisions regarding the 2008 ozone and 2006 particulate standards, then-EPA Administrator Stephen Johnson did not follow the advice of the agency's independent science advisors, the Clean Air Scientific Advisory Committee (CASAC). The Administrator is not required by statute to follow CASAC's recommendations; the act requires only that he set forth in the Federal Register notice in which he (or she) proposes a NAAQS any pertinent findings, recommendations, and comments made by CASAC and, if the proposal differs in an important respect from any of the recommendations, provide an explanation of the reasons for such differences. But the failure to follow CASAC recommendations almost inevitably raises the question of whether the Administrator's decision will be judged arbitrary and capricious in a judicial review.
In the recent revisions of both the ozone and PM standards, CASAC made detailed objections to the Administrator's final decisions. The committee's description of the process as having failed to meet statutory and procedural requirements could play an important role during judicial review. [Congressional Research Service, 1/4/11]
From a February 1, 2010, Congressional Research Service report on Ozone Air Quality Standards:
The major issues raised by the proposed standards concern whether the Administrator has made appropriate choices (i.e., whether her choices for the primary and secondary standards are backed by the scientific studies.) Unlike the choices made by Administrator Johnson in 2008, both the primary and secondary standards proposed by Administrator [Lisa] Jackson reflect the range of values and the statistical form recommended by the agency's independent science advisers, CASAC. [Congressional Research Service, 2/1/10]
Bush EPA's Science Advisors Said 2008 Standard Was Not "Sufficiently Protective Of Public Health." In April 2008 the scientific panel wrote a letter expressing their discontent with EPA for setting a looser standard than they recommended. According to the American Lung Association, such letters are a "rare" occurrence. From the letter (emphasis original):
[T]he members of the CASAC Ozone Review Panel do not endorse the new primary ozone standard as being sufficiently protective of public health. The CASAC -- as the Agency's statutorily-established science advisory committee for advising you on the national ambient air quality standards -- unanimously recommended decreasing the primary standard to within the range of 0.060-0.070 ppm. It is the Committee's consensus scientific opinion that your decision to set the primary ozone standard above this range fails to satisfy the explicit stipulations of the Clean Air Act that you ensure an adequate margin of safety for all individuals, including sensitive populations. [Letter to then-EPA Administrator Stephen L. Johnson, 4/7/08]
Science Advisors' Unanimous Decision Came After Almost 4 Years Of Assessing 1,700 Scientific Studies. In a December 10, 2008, article, the Philadelphia Inquirer reported that: "The science panel and EPA spent almost four years assessing the risk from ozone. They all agreed that the current standard of 80 parts per billion was too high." The article also stated: "The panel combed through 1,700 new scientific studies to see if they could determine how much ozone, mixed into the everyday cocktail of pollution, made people sick." [Philadelphia Inquirer, 12/10/08]
Bush White House Intervened To Loosen The Secondary Ozone Standard. From a March 14, 2008, Washington Post article:
The Environmental Protection Agency weakened one part of its new limits on smog-forming ozone after an unusual last-minute intervention by President Bush, according to documents released by the EPA.
EPA officials initially tried to set a lower seasonal limit on ozone to protect wildlife, parks and farmland, as required under the law. While their proposal was less restrictive than what the EPA's scientific advisers had proposed, Bush overruled EPA officials and on Tuesday ordered the agency to increase the limit, according to the documents.
The dispute involved one of two distinct parts of the EPA's ozone restrictions: the "public welfare" standard, which is designed to protect against long-term harm from high ozone levels. The other part is known as the "public health" standard, which sets a legal limit on how high ozone levels can be at any one time. The two standards were set at the same level Wednesday, but until Bush asked for a change, the EPA had planned to set the "public welfare" standard at a lower level.
The documents, which were released by the EPA late Wednesday night, provided insight into how White House officials helped shape the new air-quality rules that, by law, are supposed to be decided by the EPA administrator. [Washington Post, 3/14/08]
Bush Ozone Standard Faces Pending Legal Challenges. Politico reported on July 26:
The EPA announced Tuesday that it won't meet its July 29 deadline for setting a new ozone standard, amid intense pressure from industry and lawmakers to abandon the agency's reconsideration of the controversial George W. Bush administration rule.
An EPA spokesman said the agency plans to issue the final standard "shortly," but declined to offer further details on timing.
Depending on how long the delay lasts, Obama administration attorneys could soon have to decide whether to defend the 2008 Bush standard against pending legal challenges in federal court. The court agreed to put that litigation on hold while the EPA reconsidered the rule. [Politico Pro, 7/26/11, subscription required]
Health Experts Underline Need For Better Ozone Standard
NRC: Current Ozone Standard Probably Not Strict Enough To Prevent Premature Death. From the National Research Council:
Short-term exposure to current levels of ozone in many areas is likely to contribute to premature deaths, says a new National Research Council report, which adds that the evidence is strong enough that the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency should include ozone-related mortality in health-benefit analyses related to future ozone standards.
Based on a review of recent research, the committee found that deaths related to ozone exposure are more likely among individuals with pre-existing diseases and other factors that could increase their susceptibility. However, premature deaths are not limited to people who are already within a few days of dying.
In addition, the committee examined research based on large population groups to find how changes in ozone air concentration could affect mortality, specifically to determine the existence of a threshold -- a concentration of ozone below which exposure poses no risk of death. The committee concluded that if a threshold exists, it is probably at a concentration below the current public health standard. [National Research Council, 4/22/08]
Recent Scientific Assessment Finds "Robust Link Between Health Effects And Smog Levels" Below The 2008 Standard. Greenwire reported:
Recent studies suggest that smog-filled air kills more people and causes more breathing problems than previously thought, U.S. EPA scientists say in a new draft paper, but due to a procedural twist, the findings can't be taken into account as Administrator Lisa Jackson decides whether to set stricter limits than the George W. Bush administration chose in 2008.
The new research provides stronger evidence that short-term spikes in ground-level ozone can cause premature death, according to the 996-page scientific assessment, which was released late Friday. And on top of that, EPA scientists found evidence that long-term exposure could lead to more premature deaths -- a conclusion that was not reached when the agency last reviewed the state of smog science in 2006.
It is well-established that ozone can have health effects at the current limit of 84 parts per billion (ppb), which still has not been met in parts of the Northeast, much of Southern California and industrial cities such as Houston. According to the assessment, recent studies found a robust link between health effects and smog levels below either the current limit or the standard of 75 ppb that was selected by the last administration.
EPA is rethinking the George W. Bush administration's controversial 2008 decision to choose a standard of 75 ppb -- higher than the range of 60 to 70 ppb recommended by the agency's scientific advisers. The law requires a reconsideration proceeding to use the same information that was available the first time around, as EPA has said throughout the process. [Greenwire, 3/9/11]
Children's Health Committee: Studies Show "Significant Adverse Effects" In Children From Ozone Levels Lower Than 2008 Standard. A September 2007 letter from the chair of the EPA's Children's Health Protection Advisory Committee said, "Several studies also demonstrate significant adverse effects occurring in children below the range of values proposed by the agency." The letter further stated:
As pediatricians, public health and environmental professionals drawn from academia, government, industry and public interest organizations, we would like to again express our unanimous opinion that the 8 hour ozone standard should be set at the lowest level offered by the Clean Air Scientific Advisory Committee (CASAC), 0.060 ppm, in order to adequately protect the health of children with an appropriate margin of safety (CHPAC letter, March 23, 2007). This opinion is based on the existing scientific studies of children, which demonstrate serious adverse health effects of ozone exposure, including exacerbation of asthma with attendant increases in medication use, hospitalization, and missed school days, and impairment of normal lung development. It is also based on consideration of the evidence that disruption of lung development may result in permanent health consequences in children exposed to ozone. [Letter to then-EPA Administrator Stephen L. Johnson, 9/4/07]
ALA: Studies Have Found Health Problems Associated Even With Lower Ozone Concentrations. From the American Lung Association:
Clinical studies of healthy adults show decreased lung function, increased respiratory symptoms and inflammation after 6.6-hour exposures to 80 ppb. Importantly, adverse lung function effects and symptoms are observed in some individuals at 60 ppb. Because people in clinical studies are typically healthy adults, standards must be set lower to provide the addition protection needed by infants, children, and people with moderate or severe asthma.
A dozen epidemiological studies have found that adverse health effects ranging from respiratory symptoms, lung function changes, emergency department visits for respiratory disease, and hospital admissions are associated with 8-hour ozone concentrations below 70 ppb. Numerous other community health studies report adverse respiratory effects in newborns, asthmatic children, outdoor workers and exercisers at concentrations below 60 ppb.
Breathing ozone can kill. Short-term increases in ozone were found to increase deaths from cardiovascular and respiratory causes in a large 14-year study in 95 U.S. cities. The relationship between mortality and ozone was evident even on days when pollution levels were below the EPA 8-hour standard of 75 ppb. [ALA, January 2010, in-text citations removed for clarity]
World Health Organization Recommends An Even Lower Standard Than Science Advisors. From a July 2008 article in Environmental Health Perspectives:
A great deal of the science on the health effects of ozone suggests that the primary (i.e., public health) standard of 80 ppb that had been in place since 1997 was far too high to adequately protect the health of many U.S. residents. The EPA's own scientists as well as its Clean Air Scientific Advisory Committee (CASAC)--the statutorily established body that advises the EPA administrator on the National Ambient Air Quality Standards--recommended going as low as 60 ppb to provide adequate protection in accordance with the mandates of the Clean Air Act. The World Health Organization (WHO) recommends an even lower level of 51 ppb. [Environmental Health Perspectives, 2008]
Canada, Europe Have Stricter Ozone Limits. From a March 2008 Time article:
The byproduct of nitrogen oxides and other chemicals released into the air by vehicles and power plants, ozone is one of the most pernicious pollutants in the air -- and one of the hardest to get rid of. Even today, tens of millions of Americans live in areas that can't meet the current limit of 84 parts per billion, and suffer from the effects of ground-level ozone: an inflamed respiratory tract, worsened cardiovascular disease, asthma, even premature death. "It's an irritant, and it literally burns the inside of your lungs," says Dr. John Balbus, chief health scientist at the Environmental Defense Fund, who notes that children will suffer the most. Balbus says that the EPA's own studies say that bringing down the ozone limit to 65 parts per billion -- the halfway point of the range suggested by science -- would prevent 2,330 deaths, 4,600 emergency room visits and 1,300,000 lost school days by the year 2020, compared to the current regulation. Nor is a limit of 65 parts per billion unachievable. The European Commission mandates ozone levels at no more than 61 parts per billion, and even Canada has lower limits than those the EPA will adapt. [Time, 3/13/08]
Major Public Health Groups Have Endorsed A Stricter Standard. According to the American Lung Association, the following medical and scientific groups "have endorsed an ozone standard in the range of 60-70 ppb":
The American Medical Association, the American Public Health Association, the American Thoracic Society, the American Academy of Pediatrics, the International Society for Environmental Epidemiology, the American College of Preventive Medicine, the American College of Chest Physicians, the American College of Occupational and Environmental Medicine the American Association of Cardiovascular and Pulmonary Rehabilitation, the National Association for the Medical Direction of Respiratory Care, and the Asthma and Allergy Foundation of America. [ALA, January 2010]
Conservative Media Exaggerate Costs, Ignore Benefits Of Smog Rule
IBD Falsely Claims "The EPA Puts The Cost At Upward Of $90 Billion A Year." While Investor's Business Daily claims EPA estimated the cost at "upward of $90 billion a year," $90 billion was actually the upper limit of cost if the standard was set at the strictest level considered. From an Investor's Business Daily editorial:
And make no mistake: The price tag will be big. The EPA puts the cost at upward of $90 billion a year. But the Manufacturers Alliance says it'll be closer to $1 trillion, and will cost millions of jobs as companies spend increasingly large amounts of money to scrub increasingly small amounts of pollutants out of the air. [Investor's Business Daily, 7/13/11]
Business Roundtable's Engler: Stricter Standard Is "The Single Most Expensive Environmental Regulation In U.S. History." From a Wall Street Journal op-ed by John Engler, the President of the Business Roundtable:
President Obama won praise from businesses in January when he promised to bring "reason and balance" to a "21st-century regulatory system." Yet now, fewer than six months later, his administration is preparing to issue the single most expensive environmental regulation in U.S. history, a job-killing rule it is under no obligation to impose on the struggling economy.
The EPA estimates these new standards could cost business anywhere from $20 billion to $90 billion annually. [Wall Street Journal, 7/26/11]
CRS: Past Experience Indicates That "Costs Will Not Be As Great As They Are Projected To Be." From a Congressional Research Service report on EPA's proposed revisions to the ozone standards:
The analysis [EPA's Regulatory Impact Analysis] shows a wide range of estimates for benefits, from a low of $13 billion annually to a high of $100 billion annually in 2020. Estimates of the costs of implementing the standard also range widely, from $19 billion to $90 billion annually in 2020.
The RIA also states, "Of critical importance to understanding these estimates of future costs and benefits is that they are not intended to be forecasts of the actual costs and benefits of implementing revised standards." If past experience is any guide, this is likely to mean that costs will not be as great as they are projected to be. In the agency's words, "Technological advances over time will tend to increase the economic feasibility of reducing emissions, and will tend to reduce the costs of reducing emissions." Benefits, meanwhile, will remain difficult to quantify, in part because of the difficulty of quantifying and valuing lives lost prematurely and other adverse health effects due to exposure to pollution. [Congressional Research Service, 2/1/10, in-text citations removed for clarity]
EPA Estimates Benefits Of Stricter Standard At $13 Billion To $100 Billion Per Year. From the Fact Sheet on the Regulatory Impact Analysis of the proposed ozone standards:
The value of mortality benefits and other health improvements of reducing ozone to 0.070 ppm would range from an estimated $13 billion to $37 billion per year in 2020. For a standard of 0.060 ppm, the value of benefits would range from $35 billion to $100 billion. The benefits estimates include the value of an estimated reduction in the following adverse health effects in 2020:
Clean Air Act's Benefits Have Dwarfed Its Costs. From an EPA review of the results of the Clean Air Act since 1990:
The 1990 Clean Air Act Amendments programs are projected to result in a net improvement in U.S. economic growth and the economic welfare of American households.
Our central benefits estimate exceeds costs by a factor of more than 30 to one, and the high benefits estimate exceeds costs by 90 times. Even the low benefits estimate exceeds costs by about three to one.
This net improvement in economic welfare is projected to occur because cleaner air leads to better health and productivity for American workers as well as savings on medical expenses for air pollution-related health problems. The beneficial economic effects of these two improvements alone are projected to more than offset the expenditures for pollution control. [Environmental Protection Agency, April 2011]
ALA: Americans Overwhelmingly Favor "Stricter Limits On Smog." An American Lung Association poll conducted in June found 75 percent of likely voters favor stricter smog standards. [American Lung Association, June 4-12 2011]


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Michigan enters multistate agreement regarding offshore wind energy
March 30, 2012
LANSING, Mich. - Gov. Rick Snyder has signed an agreement with several Great Lakes states and federal agencies regarding offshore wind energy.
The Memorandum of Understanding (MOU) does not create or call for creating any regulatory processes or review requirements. Instead, it requires various regulatory agencies to identify their current regulatory regimes for offshore wind projects.
"Michigan's universities and partnership organizations have been performing cutting-edge research on offshore wind energy," Snyder said. "At the state level, we want to lend our full support to these efforts. If technical and cost barriers are removed as a result of such efforts, that will be a big win for Michigan."
As the Great Lakes State, Michigan recognizes the vital role of cooperation between the basin states in issues that impact these resources, Snyder said.
"The Great Lakes Compact shows the value of cooperation across the Great Lakes basin," the governor said.
Snyder added that he will not pursue new offshore wind legislation at this time.
"The technical and cost barriers to offshore wind are still very significant," he said. "We need the research efforts to bear more fruit before we redesign the regulatory framework we have in place. Our current system protects Michigan's interests at this time."
Other participants in the MOU are Illinois, Minnesota, New York, Pennsylvania, the U.S. Department of Energy, U.S. Department of Defense, U.S. Department of the Army, U.S. Coast Guard, U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, Federal Aviation Administration, National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, White House Council on Environmental Quality and the Advisory Council on Historic Preservation.

subset: commoncrawl


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The eerie thing about Paige Adolpha wasn't just that she turned up right when I was reading about her in the paper. It wasn't her fame as the star witness in the big local werewolf trial. What brought on the gooseflesh, first time I saw her, was that she was the spitting image of her murdered sister. Identical twins, you know?
I was at the Britannia branch of the public library, absorbing what passed for Vancouver news and wishing the local papers would come up to the standards of the Edmonton Journal—even the Globe & Mail—when one of the regulars caught sight of her.
"It's that lady from page three," he stage-whispered.
"Don't stare," I murmured, peeking despite myself.
I flipped back to the two shots of Paige's sister, Pamela. One showed them both, laughing together. The other was her corpse: long-limbed, blood-matted fur, all fang. Nobody was denying she'd been a lycanthrope.
Richard Deenie, her killer, was a brash American with one of those awful trophy necklaces of monster teeth. Fifteen years ago, he was barely getting by selling camping equipment. When humanity discovered monsterkind in 2002, he'd reinvented himself as a sleazoid Buffy type. Him and plenty of others. U.S. werewolves were getting thin on the ground, so he'd stalked Pamela to British Columbia and shot her with a silver bullet.
"Ya already read that page." The old-timer was fidgeting; I'd beaten him to the last copy of the Sun.
I swapped him for the Province. It had the same trial coverage, written at an even more dumbed-down level. Deenie, a born media whore, got arrested at a press conference he'd called especially so he could crow about saving us wussy Canadians from a lycanthrope menace.
I hoped he was surprised when the Crown found a few cops willing to arrest him before he slithered back over the border. He was claiming self-defence. Paige insisted her sister had never bitten, much less killed, anyone.
Here she was in the flesh, staring at the glassed-in art installation that separated the library's reading room from the chaos of the kids' section. She had a baby papoosed on her chest. She looked about nine, underfed, bruised by fatigue.
Before I could look away, she was crossing the reading room. "You're Jude?"
I nodded. She was brandishing a pair of home improvement books and a library receipt.
"The info woman says you're a general contractor."
I shot Lela—who's dating my ex and disapproves of my staying single—a dirty look.
"Shhh!" said the old-timer.
Steer clear, I thought. But . . . "Come on, I'm done here."
I do go for elfin blondes. Lela knows my type. And I was getting an answering vibe—baby or not, Paige looked available and, potentially, into me. But I wasn't looking to be anyone's stepmom. She's vulnerable, I reminded myself. The pressure of a trial, plus grief . . . her sister's been dead, what? Four months?
I set out on a path that winds between Britannia's low, unmistakably institutional buildings. The community center is big and battered looking; almost an architectural blight, and yet I love it. It's the backbone of my neighbourhood. The library's attached to a high school, and the complex includes a pool and ice rink, tennis courts, youth outreach and senior's center.
Britannia is where the working poor of the neighbourhood go to borrow books and recreate their kids, to take guitar lessons, study aikido and judo, to catch a yoga class that doesn't cost twenty bucks an hour. It's where they teach teen moms what they call life skills, like cooking something more nutritious than ramen; they bring me in to demonstrate how to unstop a toilet and install a baby gate. Now and then the Center will even bus people out to Golden Ears Park to hike or canoe or ride horses.
We came out behind the daycare into a green space known locally as Poverty Park. My house overlooks the park—I could see my front door—but instead of taking Paige home with me, I pointed at a bench under a double-flowering plum. The tree was thick with blooms, like it had been dipped in candy floss. Fifty feet over, near the tennis courts, three young guys with blond dreadlocks were beating on trashcan-sized drums.
I must have frowned, because she asked, "What is it?"
"You're curious about something."
"I suppose that happens all the time?"
"It's okay," Paige said, settling herself under the canopy of blooms. "You can ask me anything."
"I was just thinking it had been four months since . . . They brought Deenie to trial pretty quick."
Ghost of a smile. "The prosecutor's a force of nature. And Deenie's representing himself. He didn't know the tricks they use to slow things down."
Or he didn't want to. "So, you want reno advice?"
Paige said, "I'm renting my basement out as a recording studio. I thought soundproofing, bars on the windows . . ."
"You have a house—I mean, you own it?"
"Pamela had some insurance."
"You're not planning to grow pot down there, are you?"
"With soundproofing?"
"Or a dungeon?"
"I haven't got time for vanilla sex, let alone kink." The baby was watching the birds with bright-eyed intensity.
I steered my gaze back to Paige. "You want to do the work yourself?"
She flinched. "I need advice on the soundproofing. It's too complex…. The books don't say anything."
Don't volunteer, I told myself. You can't fix someone else's life, and Lela's opinions notwithstanding, I didn't need this. A baby meant Paige was maybe no more than a year out of a relationship with some guy. "You want to DIY, even though you have money. You need to rent out your basement, but you're a nurse, aren't you? You have a kid, you're the public face of a homicide trial, and now you want to get into futzing with soundproofing and—"
"What are you saying?"
"Look, maybe I don't talk like a Rhodes Scholar, but I know when I'm being lied to."
"Forget I said anything." She scooped up her kid and stormed off, so mad she almost walked over two women who were hawking handmade jewellery over by the sidewalk.
I watched her go, relieved. Then I took her abandoned library books inside so I could tell Lela to lay off the matchmaking.
Know what she said? "Oh, so you did like her?"
The thing about going for broken women is it doesn't make you feel good about yourself. So I kept busy: installed cabinets in a local rehab center, redid a couple bathrooms, volunteered to replace some vandalized tiles in Mosaic Creek Park. I let myself get talked into working a shift at the Italian Day festival, valet parking bicycles and chit-chatting with environmental activists as people from all the Drive's overlapping communities ambled by.
At one time, East Vancouver was the bad part of town, which seems laughable now house prices have shot up. Sleek, well-off mommies, new to the area, pay my bills: I renovate the kitchens in their circa-1920 houses while they slurp up frappuccinos at Starbucks and plan the next battle in their bitter fight for control of Poverty Park. The area is upscaling; they want to drive out the homeless, the veterans, the street vendors and heroin junkies who've occupied the park—peaceably, for the most part—for decades.
None of which is to say I had mommies or motherhood on the brain. I put Paige and her troubles out of my mind, skipping the trial coverage, walking by fast when I saw her doe-eyed face in the newspaper boxes.
But a month after we first met she was back at Britannia, even more harried, obviously looking for me. The kid was in her pouch, lolling like a sailor after three days ashore.
I kept my eyes off him. "You got the soundproofing up? Barred your windows?"
She nodded.
"What happened?"
She hesitated. "They vandalized them."
"By 'they' you mean . . .
"The band."
"And by 'them'?"
"The soundproofing pads."
She was clinging to the lie. I thought of calling her on it, again, but I'd had a month to feel guilty. Chivalry won out. "You ready to show me?"
A long sigh. "Should I make an appointment?"
"No, I'm between jobs. Lead on."
Paige's house was a few blocks south of mine. It was what we call a Vancouver Special—an ugly box clad in yellow aluminium siding and fake brick, square in shape, designed to max out the floor space ratio on its lot. Multifamily residences: idea being to shoehorn in a couple with three kids, both sets of in-laws, and maybe jam an unmarried sister in the basement. There'd been a toxic bloom of them in the eighties; nowadays, developers are knocking them down to build pretty, faux-heritage townhomes.
The place didn't look Paige's speed at all.
"Big basement," she said, by way of explanation. I got a bit of a jolt; perceptive women are sexy. We shared a weird, edgy grin.
Past the front door was a rabbit hutch and a couple bags—one packed with scrubs, another a suitcase I'd seen in trial photos. She dropped the diaper bag beside them.
The rabbits shifted nervously.
"You hate animals too?" she asked.
"Excuse me?"
"The baby. You make a point of ignoring him."
"I keep fish." I didn't mention the cat; this was no time to sound like a nurturer.
"Downstairs." She indicated a door. "You can leave your shoes on."
I ducked under the overhang, heading into what had once been the in-law suite. Its interior walls were sledge-hammered away, the carpet torn up. All that remained was a vacant space with bare concrete floors.
"Why aren't you on maternity leave?" I asked, thinking of the bag of work stuff—scrubs, shoes, protein bars.
"I take the occasional fill-in shift to remind myself I have more on the brain than the next loaded diaper." She closed the door behind us.
Ever been somewhere where no sound gets in, none at all? Not the traffic outside, not the hum of the fridge, nothing but your own breath and heartbeat? It can be suffocating, almost claustrophobic; your ears ring and your brain insists there's something wrong.
You can muffle a garage studio on the cheap by padding the walls with second-hand mattresses, but Paige had gone high-end. Her panels looked like they had come from a mental hospital—they were surfaced in a white quilted fabric and had been fitted with care, floor to ceiling, even covering the windows. They snugged up against the ceiling panels perfectly.
The air stank of bleach.
A baby cam and one big light were mounted in a corner of the ceiling, cords snaking between the soundproof boards.
"I figured they'd behave if I kept an eye on them," she said, following my gaze to the camera.
'They' again, the fictional rock band. "This is good craftsmanship."
"Impressed." The nurses I know have decent mechanical skills, but this wouldn't have been an easy job.
"The damage is here—" The fabric of the wall was torn at knee height in two places, the foam scattered in bits.
Foam and . . . I stirred the scraps, recognizing a tuft of animal fur.
She didn't meet my eyes. "I'll have to install something over the padding, won't I?"
"You could frame and drywall. . . ."
"Drywall might be too fragile."
"Clad the walls in sheet metal?"
"Sounds ugly." She was close to weeping. "It has to be nice. It can't . . . just be a big cage."
My heart raced, loud in the silence. "Bamboo panels."
"Bamboo wall panels. Natural-looking, eco-friendly, and very hard. We frame over your soundproofing, clad the whole thing in bamboo panels. Even if one or two of them do get roughed up, we just replace. No harm, no foul, okay?"
We. Damn, I said "we."
"Seriously?" She pretended to scan the room, mastering her emotions.
"It'll be easy, Paige."
That's when the drunken sailor baby opened his little mug and belched a river of chewed industrial foam, blood-laced baby formula, and a sticky hunk of bunny leather onto my steel-toed work boots.
I looked from the mess to Paige's chalky face.
"Maybe we can find the bamboo in sort of a crimson lacquer," I added.
* * *
It's not what you think," she said, twenty minutes later in the backyard. The baby was on a blanket under a tree, and she'd pulled out two beers. "Pamela didn't bite him."
"No?" She couldn't afford to have me—or anybody—thinking otherwise. If Deenie could prove Pamela had ever been a danger to others, he'd walk on the murder charge.
"She's his mother. Was." She rolled the beer bottle between her hands. "Lycanthropy's been in my family since the Civil War. You can transmit it through the placenta."
"You were in the womb together. Same placenta."
"I'm not a werewolf," she said. "Best guess is sometimes it takes, sometimes it doesn't. Twins were a first for my family."
"Papers don't say he's her baby."
"We drove out to the middle of the province, switched IDs. At the hospital in Trail, nobody knew us."
"Twins, right. Didn't anyone notice that you—"
"I wore a padded belly to work for a few months."
"You and Pamela must have been close."
"I wasn't so sure until she was gone. It was my job to take care of her, to cover, to cover up—"
"The good kid."
She wiped her eyes.
"Me too. Eldest, right? Perfect attendance, good grades, come home and watch the little kids. . . ."
Again with that scalpel-sharp look of comprehension: "Your family's not around anymore?"
"They're alive. They're pretty sure I'm going to hell."
"I'm sorry."
I wasn't about to get into that. "So, you pulled a switcheroo with his birth certificate. But why?"
"To protect him. Deenie was already hunting Pammy."
"And her boyfriend—he's the father?"
"He doesn't know. She left when she realized she was pregnant."
The boyfriend had just testified. Deenie broke his fingers and pulled out one of his front teeth to get him to give up Pamela's location. Poor guy damn near had a mental breakdown on the stand; since he was representing himself, Deenie got to cross-examine the man he'd tortured. He'd had a lot of fun with it.
"Deenie caught up with Pammy a couple weeks after the birth. She was weak, postpartum. Slow."
"But you'd fixed things so the kid's yours on paper."
"It wasn't that risky. We'd pass a DNA test . . . identical twins, remember?"
"Except Chase'd test positive for werewolf?"
The baby was waving at the tree, entranced by the moving shadows. Not that I was watching.
"The first three months were okay; I kept him in his playpen."
"And now?"
"See that pile of playpen scraps over by the trash bin?"
"So you cage him in the basement every month until . . ." How long would he be a puppy? Sixteen years?
"Until he's five. There's a pack, in Surrey; they'll take him in during the moon, teach him to hunt, to avoid people. It's how Pammy was socialized. But he has to go to them good-tempered. He has to enjoy his . . . wild nights, they call them. If his temperament sours . . ."
"Then the pack won't take him?"
"They'll do worse than not take him." She was tearing up again. "And all this depends on their being around when he's five, which depends on Richard Deenie being convicted so he and his thug sidekick and all their sick monster-hunting pals know it's serious, it's illegal, that it's not open season up here."
I put my hand on hers. "Okay. So. Dog-proofing the basement."
How hard could it be? He weighed, what, fifteen pounds?
Four weeks ran by in a blur.
By the time the full moon rolled around, we had the walls of her basement panelled. The rabbit hutch had spent a couple weeks downstairs, killing the bleach fumes with a dog-friendly aroma of barn. We'd left construction sawdust on the floor.
That evening, Paige took all but two of the bunnies upstairs. She threw toys, rawhide chew sticks, and pepperoni down on the concrete floor, along with an old moccasin. She dropped in a few two-dollar ivy plants from the garden store, without their plastic starter pots. So there'd be dirt?
Fifteen minutes before moonrise, she gave Chase a bottle, burped him, stripped off his footie pyjamas and diaper and lay him, nude, on the concrete basement floor.
"No blanket?"
"He'd eat it." We stared at him, pale and small on the floor. He was playing with his toes. If he was cold, it didn't show.
Then he was seizing.
Paige threw out an arm; I guess I'd taken an involuntary step into the room. She backed me out, closed the door, cutting off the sound of him strangling. Then she led me upstairs. "We can watch on the monitor."
Ye gods. The strength it must have taken; I didn't even like the kid and I didn't want to walk away. She turned on the monitor. He'll be a slavering, hideous monster. Scary and unlovable, I thought. I took a good look.
It was worse than I thought. He was all wobbling puppy butt and baby fluff. He had big eyes, long flirty lashes. He batted them at a chew toy, looking like some kid's cartoon dawg—bink-bink.
A quiet "Aroo!" trickled through the baby monitor.
"Awww," I said. Believe me, a dead cynic couldn't have kept from saying "Awww."
I was entranced until he caught the first rabbit.
Even baby-clumsy, he was fast. He shook the rabbit into a puddle, sending fur flying, then rolled in the pudding. He chewed one of the plastic toys to chips. The shoe went in stages; he'd run around with it for a while, settle in for a chaw, run some more.
And my God, the peeing. Every nook, every corner. All my lovely bamboo panelling.
"Boy dogs," Paige said, by way of apology, or explanation.
"This was why the bleach, last month."
"To kill the smell, yep."
Okay, stop staring. I got up as he began dragging the first of the ivy plants around the room, spraying potting soil. His tail was wagging. It had only been an hour.
"He's laying waste to the place."
"As long as he's happy." She quirked a brow. "Speaking of which . . ."
"Mmm?" I was already considering how to entertain the little bugger next time. He needed grass, more plants . . .
Paige kissed me.
It was awkward—disastrous. My head was elsewhere; she caught me by surprise. She was nervous, too, so the move came out a bit of a lunge. Our lips met for a second; then our teeth clacked, pinching my tongue. I pulled back, reflexively, tasting blood. And whatever she saw in my face . . . she turned bright red.
It might be for the best. I squelched the urge to apologize. "I should leave."
"Hey—it's okay. I wouldn't want to date me either."
"You're plenty dateable, Paige—"
"Don't, Jude."
"What do you want me to say? You're dead gorgeous. You're funny, smart. But your sister's newly dead, you got this murder trial . . ."
"I'm hot, but I'm a basket case? You don't want to take advantage? I didn't take you for old-school butch, Jude."
"How could you not be a basket case?" I stared out the window. "You're in mourning and there's a rabid frigging monster in your basement."
A faint "Aroo" trickled from the speaker.
"So? You think you're such a catch?"
"I didn't say that." A flare of light in a truck, across the street, caught my eye.
"You're freakishly tall, for one thing. And that librarian gave me your entire romantic history. You dare call me damaged goods when—"
"Someone's watching the house," I interrupted.
She cat-stepped across the living room, pissed, and looked sideways through the curtains.
"Reporter?" I whispered.
"Deenie's sidekick," she gritted. "Valmont Robb."
"What do you want to do?"
"I'll bundle up something kid-shaped and walk you to the door."
"To the . . ."
"You were leaving anyway, weren't you?"
A furious glint in her eye. "I may look like a mess to you, but believe me, I can handle myself."
Ten minutes later I was out in the cold on the porch. Paige had a fake baby bundled in her arms, a fake smile plastered on her face. See, folks? Nothing going on here.
"Good night," she said.
I gave the fake kid a pat. "I never set out to be a parent, Paige."
"Funnily enough, neither did I." She pivoted, closing the door in my face.
Well. I'd needed to back her off, right? Nicely done.
I walked home in the dark, past Robb's truck with its Kansas plates, pretending I hadn't seen him, my lip throbbing, my mind full of a strange mix of regret, sexual fantasy, revenge, and puppy eyes.
* * *
Next morning I couldn't help myself; I called her.
"He's overheating down there," she said, before I could stumble half-assed into an apology.
"There's no airflow in the basement. It was okay last month; I guess it was colder. But by two, he was roasting."
A pulse of alarm. "He's okay?"
"Yeah, but summer's coming—look, I can't talk now."
"Something's up?"
"Sitter cancelled, and I need to see the Crown about Robb being here last night."
"Can't you call the police?"
"It's complicated; Vancouver PD's divided on the werewolf issue."
"Well . . . I'm coming by to look at the air."
"What if Chase bunny-barfs on a reporter? He ate that entire moccasin."
"I have an ex-girlfriend who used to run a daycare. She's broke and she has a one-year-old."
"I can't leave him with a stranger, not with Robb . . ."
"I'd be downstairs."
"I thought you were done with me and my rabid frigging monster."
"Cut me a break, Paige. He is a rabid frigging monster."
"Well." I could see her fighting a smile. "That's true."
"Listen. Maybe I was an asshole last night—"
"Let me make one call, sort out the ventilation issue, and clean up a bit while you put the law on Robb. Deal?"
* * *
"So how is it you're once again with a woman with a kid?" Raquel, naturally, had said yes. Who could pass up a chance to give me a hard time and get paid?
So I'd chauffeured her over, made the introductions. She cooed over little Chase, who was sleeping off his wolfie binge. Paige, satisfied, had run off to court.
Once she was gone, Raquel demanded a complete rundown on her, for transmission to the entire East Van lesbian grapevine.
"I'm not with anyone. I'm fixing up her basement."
"Is that what you're calling it—Abby, no!" She darted across the room to strong-arm her toddler down from the TV stand, and I escaped the interrogation.
With the basement door safely locked, I could survey the damage in the ear-ringing silence.
The air was stuffy, as Paige had said; it also reeked of baby wolf pee. Dirt from the plants was everywhere, mudded in with bits of fur, dog toys, moccasin, sawdust. A rabbit eye stared at me from the floor.
What was I doing, cleaning up after a kid who would probably get himself shot by someone like Richard Deenie?
Apologizing for last night, that's all.
Concentrate on the air. It was a problem—ventilation ducts are notoriously good conductors of sound. Best I could do was run a pipe to the garage, insulate the duct inside and out, and hope the noise of the intake fan would cover a certain amount of puppy howl.
Aroo, I remembered. It hadn't seemed loud on the baby cam.
Which has a volume knob. And what about when he's bigger?
One problem at a time.
The basement was depressing. Bare walls, bamboo or not, and a few bunnies weren't enough. The kid needed things to climb up, jump on, destroy. Grass underfoot. He had to go to that pack good-tempered, Paige said.
Raised planters, maybe, something to lurk beneath . . . but plants meant lights. We'd—dammit, Paige would need grow lights for the plants.
I got absorbed in thinking about solar panels, and jumped a foot when my cell rang. It was Raquel, calling from upstairs.
"Why are you phoning me?"
"Because I'm whaling on the door and you damn well can't hear me."
I bolted for the stairs. "Kid okay?"
"He's asleep." She snapped her phone shut in my face. "That guy's back. You said a red truck?"
I closed the padded door, eased past Raquel, and checked on the bassinet before peeking outside. The truck with the Kansas plates was parked half a block away.
"What's this about?"
"The trial. He's trying to scare Paige."
"Should we call the cops?"
"She was gonna talk to that Crown attorney."
"Stalkerman's here now."
"Some of the police think we should be allowed to shoot werewolves—a lot."
"We call, we get the wrong cop, we make things worse?"
I nodded. "They see 'em as an enforcement problem, go figure."
"Gotcha." She sighed. "Let's get a picture of him. Document the stalking. Maybe Paige can go door to door, insinuate to the neighbours he's hanging around waiting to break into their houses or molest their kids."
"Good idea," I said.
She put a hand on my back. "Don't worry, Jude."
"I'm just doing her basement," I repeated. Chase cooed from inside the bassinet. I felt cobwebby threads of affection, sticking, somewhere deep and internal.
"Cut it out," I growled, and he beamed.
Raquel had her camera zoomed in on Robb's unshaven mug. "What's Paige doing down there, anyway? Holding mini-raves?"
"Excuse me?"
Her eyes flicked to the baby monitor. So much for secrecy. I'd been on camera all morning.
"Orchids," I said. "We're setting her up to grow orchids."
"When Pammy was five, she began spending a couple days a month on my uncle's farm near Cheyenne," Paige told the packed courtroom. "He and a local fellow were werewolves, the friend's daughter too."
"They ran in a pack?"
"Yes. The adults socialized the girls."
"They learned to avoid people and domesticated animals."
"Mr. Deenie says lycanthropes are untameable beasts."
"What does he know? He learned the truth with the rest of the world, in 2002, and he's no scientist. My family had generations of experience in dealing with this."
The Crown had done a decent job of making out Deenie as a sadist and misogynist. The jury seemed to dislike him heartily. In response, he was playing on that thread of . . . was it racism? Not in my backyard-ism? We like to think we're liberal out here on the West Coast. Still, the idea of having werewolves for neighbours wasn't sitting well.
Rabid frigging monsters, right?
Courtrooms always look impressive on TV. In my experience, the real thing never measures up: the taxpayer's dime won't pay for the kind of glitz you get on even a crummy lawyer show. Everything's set up in the same place Judge's bench, jury box, witness stand—but it all looks run down. The people involved don't come up to TV standards either; they're real, and as a result they look fake, like they're auditioning for parts in a community theatre production. The sheriff's uniforms look badly fitted, and the air smells dusty.
But Paige had gone all out. She was wearing a brand-new cream-colored suit; her hair was newly cut, her nails buffed. Her make-up was subtle, emphasizing her fragility. She looked like a rosebud wrapped in white chocolate.
If she couldn't convince the jury her sister hadn't been a threat, it was Game Over. Worse. It would be open season.
"There has been some research since monsterkind was discovered," the Crown said. "None of it indicates that lycanthropy is in any sense controllable."
"We aren't talking about taming anyone," Paige said.
"As humans encroach on forest habitat, mother bears keep their young with them for longer periods of time. There's more to teach them, you see, about how to cohabitate with humans. The cubs learn it, and nobody says they're domesticated. They're living smarter, avoiding people, increasing their chances of survival."
"This is the same?"
"If bears can do it, of course lycanthropes can. In all the time we lived near Cheyenne, there wasn't one human disappearance on a full moon. No pet slaughters either, by the way. In fact, towns benefit from the presence of an active pack."
"How's that?"
"A well-socialized lycanthrope pack keeps the rest of monsterkind away."
Deenie was scribbling furiously, probably planning to follow up on that in his cross-examination.
"This werewolf uncle of yours, where is he now?"
"Richard Deenie's so-called mentor, Kevin Solve, shot him in 2003."
"The family friend?"
"His house was burned . . . with him in it."
"And his daughter? "
The skin around her eyes pinkened.
"Miss Adolpha?"
"He murdered her. Her and . . . everyone I love." Not one tear fell. "Because he hates werewolves, and he thinks it's fun."
"Objection," Richard Deenie drawled.
"He likes being patted on the head for being a serial killer. He shot my sister and bragged about it, and she never hurt anyone."
"She was no danger to him."
"You're one hundred percent certain of that?"
Not a sound in the courtroom. The kid reached over from Raquel's lap, tugging my sleeve. I pulled free.
"I had a newborn. Would I have let Pammy move in with me if I wasn't sure it was safe?" Paige said.
Everyone—reporters, spectators, jury—looked at Raquel and little Chase. And me.
The Crown acknowledged this with a nod. "Your witness."
Deenie had been drooling over the prospect of getting his shot at Paige, and his cross-examination was brutal, the questions fast and furious. How did Paige know her sister never killed anyone? Could she prove it? How many werewolf maulings were there in Canada each year? Wasn't living in the middle of a big city a bit different from keeping Pammy on the country fringes of Cheyenne? Neighbours ten feet away, close quarters . . .
"I grew up with Pammy. How's that for close quarters?"
He stood close enough to breathe on her. He asked about Pamela's sexual habits, alleged she was a boozer, dug into her spotty job history. Had Paige ever had to drug Pamela, to protect herself or others? Did she know how to get rid of a body? If Pammy killed someone, would she cover it up?
Paige sat there and took it. She looked sweet and young, harmless and delicate and exactly like her sister, and she didn't crack. The longer it went on, the more it felt as though everyone in the room wanted to throttle Deenie.
Chase was getting restless: moonrise was seven hours away. I was about to suggest Raquel take him home when the judge adjourned for the day.
We met Paige just outside the courtroom.
"That looked gruelling." Raquel kissed her on the cheek and handed over the baby.
"I'll do a year in that witness box if that's what it takes." She was checking her make-up, thinking ahead to the next tangle: with the media. Adjusting her young mom costume.
"I gotta pick up Abby from her play date. You guys'll be okay?"
"Fine," Paige said. "Thanks, Raquel."
"Ciao." She waved and was gone.
I gave Paige a long look. "Want me to disappear, too?"
"You want to?"
"You probably look more harmless without a freakishly tall bodyguard—"
That's when Valmont Robb popped around the corner and tried to rip out a pinch of the baby's hair.
I've never seen anyone move so fast. Paige had his sweaty mitt between her jaws before I could draw breath. Without hesitating, she bit, growling, into the meat of his hand.
Robb jerked free with a shout, blood running down his wrist, and grabbed for her throat.
I half caught his fist with mine. Pain, a bruising clash of knuckles . . . Then Paige shoved the baby, snuggly and all, into my arms.
"Get him away!" Sheriffs were wading in to collar them both.
I staggered clear of the scrum, flailing my way into the snuggly to free up my hands. I got my forearm between the crowd and the kid's head. Chase was goggling at me, emitting a low growl. Would he change if he got upset?
I pulled him close, whispering, "It's okay, it's okay. Everything's cool, little guy."
He had that intoxicating baby smell: new life, baked bread, talcum. Nobody else tried to get a sample off him as the sheriffs dragged Paige and Valmont Robb off.
The crowd stayed clear of me, babbling: "Is Paige one of them?"
"What'd he do?"
". . . tried to grab the baby . . ."
"She broke the skin, he was bleeding, that makes him one of them now . . ."
"Only if she is. If she is, her sister bit her . . ."
"Socialized my ass."
"Grrrr . . ."
"It's all cool, junior," I said. "All okay. What are we gonna do?"
He did that thing where they put an itty-bitty hand on your cheek and your heart tears itself to shreds.
"Cut that out," I said.
He welled up.
"Okay, okay. Sorry." Wait, watch, think. I bounced him, pacing the government-issue carpet, glaring at anyone who got within five feet. Down the hall, a VPD constable was watching alertly; from her expression, she was anti-lycanthrope. This was out of control. . . .
Maybe twenty minutes passed. Chase calmed; the bystanders milled for a while, until they were sure the show was over. I waited for Paige.
Instead, Paige's hero, the fire-breathing Crown attorney who'd brought Deenie to trial, appeared.
"Paige and Valmont Robb are being charged with assault," she said. "They'll be locked up until morning."
"That's bogus."
"It's in case Paige is a werewolf, in case she's infected Robb."
"They'll run tests?"
She frowned. "Full moon's tonight. That's test enough."
"Oh." It was neatly done; Robb wouldn't be out and about while the kid was wild-nighting in the basement. Then again, Paige was locked up, too.
The lawyer served up a tight, feral smile. "They're desperate. Deenie can keep badgering Paige on the stand, if he wants, but by now he must know he can't make her look bad. His best chance is to prove Pamela was a biter."
"Right. But with Robb locked up for the night, they've lost their shot."
"Have they?" She said this with typical lawyer neutrality, glancing down the hall. The female VPD officer had been joined by an equally hostile male partner. Not even bothering to give me a significant look, the attorney click-clacked away.
"Crap," I said, and Chase stole the opportunity to baby-pat my face again.
* * *
I called up Helene—she's another ex-girlfriend of mine, who cleans houses—and drove her over to Paige's with instructions to clean the basement like it was a crime scene. She didn't ask questions. She did, however, take a phone picture of me with the snuggly on my chest. "Change your ways at last, Jude?"
"Woman's in a jam."
"You couldn't leave him with Raquel?"
"No." Not tonight.
"Yeah. You don't have a maternal bone."
"Can the sarcasm, please?"
"Now you sound like my mother."
"Why is it the business of every goddamn lesbian in British Columbia to give me a hard time?"
"You reap what you sow. Mommy."
No winning here, I thought. "Clear out by sunset, okay? I expect the place to get busted and searched."
Helene nodded. "Rabbit hutch goes here, plants go there, leave the lights on. I was listening."
Would it make a difference? Who knew? I hugged her swiftly. "Thanks."
"Where are you gonna go?"
"I'm not awash in options." I'd fantasized about turning Chase loose on some well-fenced stretch of open prairie, me with a rifle in case a coyote showed up. As if I had a prairie field in my back pocket. As if I could shoot.
"Check into the transition house for the night. His mother'll be out tomorrow, right? You know they wouldn't let the cops in."
How bad were things that I was tempted to take the rabid monsterchild to a house full of battered women? "I'll be okay, Helene."
"I'm a rock, I'm an island," she mocked, waving a mop at me as she descended the stairs. "Night. Mommy."
* * *
"It's not that I hate kids," I said from atop my kitchen table, four hours later, as Chase gnawed my TV stand to slivers and my old queen manx, Fairytail, yowled disapprovingly from atop the bookshelf. "I was keen, even, in my twenties. My sister Alonsa had a baby, Hal—"
My breath snagged. Years were gone, but it hurt to say his name.
"Another blue-eyed cherub—not all that different from you. Well, except the obvious. I'd have done anything for that kid. But it was the eighties. People could toss a queer out on her ass without the least bit of censure. Alonsa's husband got born again, and . . . shit, doesn't matter."
"Aroo to you too." I saluted. "I go to Toronto, come out, fall in love. She's got a kid. A girl, Michaela."
Chase hurled himself at Fairytail's perch. A book teetered and fell—just Camille Paglia, thankfully. He chewed her spine, keeping a hopeful eye on the cat.
"Three years together, we paid lip service to coparenting. After we broke up, I had the kid Tuesday and Friday. Then she finds a new partner. I offered to move to Duluth, not with them, you know, just in the orbit. Made the commitment, did the responsible thing. But then it was 'Michaela needs to bond with Aster, you're confusing her.' Well, she's not mine, I got no rights, I'm not saying I should have rights, but you don't get it, furball, I can't—Hey!" I threw a rubber ball into the kitchen before he could go after Susan Faludi.
He boiled after it with a lusty howl. Claws skittered on the lino and there was a thump as he puppy-bounced against the wall.
"You'd think I'd stop at two, right? But no, I had to fall again, about a year later. I thought a friend . . . no romance, see? And I tried to tell her, this has to be for keeps or I'm out, it's too tough, and it was oh yes, oh yes, Jude, of course, Jude. She was so alone, so damned grateful for the childcare. My judgment that time . . . stupid. It got bad, I had to walk away. The shame I still feel over that . . .
"I know it's my fault, okay? I know you can't go half-assed, have a kid on the fringes, can't play Auntie and assume it'll go your way, but it's so hard. . . ."
Pathetic, Jude. Up on the dining room table, all self-pity, who's really the basket case here? The kid padded into the living room with a triumphant look in his adorable cartoon eyes. I'd thought he'd have the ball, or what was left of it, in his jaws. But no, he'd found my oven mitts.
I started bawling like an old drunk, because it was too late. I was caught again, the hooks deep as ever they'd been, barbed through all the scar tissue and old hurt, and as he lifted his tiny leg and damn well made widdle on my oven mitt, I swear it was the sweetest thing I'd ever seen.
* * *
At about two thirty, Paige got to a phone.
She was panicking. "Can you hide the door to the basement? Make a secret panel or something?"
"A secret—"
"Deenie's befriended some police who think lycanthropes are dangerous. They're going for a grow op warrant on the house. They'll say they're looking for pot and then—"
"Let 'em search, Paige. We're not there."
"Oh! Good. Is he okay?"
"Getting up his second wind. In fact, his little ears have pricked up. Say hello to Mommy, kid."
Chase struggled to his paws. "Arrooo?" It came out a question; then he flopped again.
Her voice came through the speaker. "Hi, baby, hi, baby. Thank God."
"Who told you about the raid?"
"One of the guards. Gloating."
I'd been on the table for hours. Now I stood and stretched. Hell, Chase was torpid, and I had my boots on. I stepped down to a chair, then the floor. The littlest werewolf didn't move.
"So where are you?"
"My place."
"You took him home?"
"What could I do, take a pet suite at the Hilton?" I splashed water onto my face, ran a comb through my hair.
"What if they go there next?"
"They can't get a warrant to search for pot here, in the dead of night, on the grounds that I'm your . . ."
"My what?"
Weighted pause. "Your friend, Paige."
"All they have to do is shove their way in and bag him. They can apologize to the skies once they have video of him changing back at dawn."
Bust in first, consequences later. She was right. "It's not gonna happen. Paige . . ."
"Shit, my time's up."
"It'll be okay."
"Don't screw this up, Jude." She was gone before I could promise anything.
A scritch. I opened the bathroom door. The kid was there, tail thumping, couch upholstery dangling from his fang. He tried out a growl on me.
"Don't even think it," I said. Stomping past him, I found my work gloves. He wobbled a step behind, exhausted but game. "Tearing around takes it out of you, huh kid?"
Bink-bink. Cartoon puppy eyes. Cuddle me; I'm not dangerous at all.
"You're not gonna bite me," I told him.
Bending, I extended my gloved hands. He growled.
"No!" Deep voice: he did me the honor of looking awed.
I got him by the scruff and under his chest, holding him arms-out away from me. His body was hot, and I could feel the wham-wham of his heart through the leather as I carried him upstairs.
Then he shocked a bit, twisting.
The smart thing would've been to drop him; instead, my arms pulled inward, protecting. I felt hot puppy breath on my neck, a touch of nose. He was alert, almost quivering.
"Easy. Easy." My mouth was cottony. I turned sideways, checking the mirror. He was staring bug-eyed up over my shoulder, through the skylight in my bedroom . . .
. . . at the moon.
"Aroo," I agreed. For some reason I was near tears.
I set him down like a bomb, leaving him in the shaft of moonlight, up on my bed, in my loft with all my good stuff, everything I'd pulled off the ground floor that afternoon. I rescued the urn with my mom's ashes, threw a last apologetic look at the fish tank. "Enjoy the change of locale, kid."
Weak-kneed, I stumbled downstairs and started making calls.
* * *
The police didn't turn up until four.
By then, I had thirty people downstairs. Saffron had awakened most of the local women's chorus, and there was a big ol' overtired koombaya going on in the remains of my living room. Alison was shooting the gathering in Super-8, while a baby dyke named Kathleen Ph34rless exhorted her to get into the digital age, man. Jennifer was doing henna tattoos on Freddie May, who was bare-chested and on his back on the table. Helena had swept the shreds of Camille Paglia off my floor. Raquel lay by the hearth with her one-year-old, Abby, and the baby's father, the three of them half asleep, watching a Disney movie on an iPad.
Upstairs you could hear the occasional thunk, awoo, smash—Chase had gotten his second wind.
Long as he's happy, I thought, as I answered the bang-bang-bang of the front door.
"Judith Walker?"
"Hey, Officers," I said, not too smartass, not too perky. Through the chain, I saw the female constable I'd seen that afternoon.
"We have a report of screams at this address."
"Just a party."
"Mind if we look around?"
"I do mind, yeah." I spoke clearly, for the pick-up mike.
"I hear another scream now." She gave me a push, trying to swing my door wide, only to get hung up on the steel-toed boot I'd accidentally-on-purpose jammed in it.
Her partner helped. The boot and the chain both gave, and I stumbled backward into my foyer.
One of the leather kids, Roman, caught me.
"Hey there, Officer," he swished. "This a bust? Wanna borrow my cuffs?"
"What's going on here?"
"Full moon party," I said. "In honor of Pam Adolpha."
She scowled. "Where's the kid?"
"Do I look like a babysitter?"
Junior chose that moment to let go with a little "Aroo!"
"What the hell was that?" The female officer's hand drifted to her pepper spray. Then she paused; Alison had moved in with her camera. The choir broke into four-part harmony, drawing her eye. They were parked on a couch I'd propped in front of the door to the stairwell. At their soprano edge, singing along while giving her best glower from a scary high-tech wheelchair, was the city's best-known civil rights lawyer.
You stay in one place for a while, you make friends. They make friends. They'll dissect your love life and your dietary habits behind your back, but some days it pays off. That's how it works in my neighbourhood. Most of my guests lived walking distance from here.
An "Aroo!" upstairs ruined the otherwise golden moment.
"I asked you . . ." The constable kept her voice calm. "What is that?"
"It's the dog," I said, straight-faced. "What do you think?"
She spent another second thumbing her pepper spray, weighing her odds—the film crew, the legal lioness, the sheer number of witnesses. Little Kathleen Ph34rless had her phone out, no doubt Tweeting events in real time.
The constable slumped. "Keep the noise down."
Nobody was so dumb as to start cheering before they were gone. But we spent the next few hours giving each other sleepy high-fives, carrying on like we'd faced down the armies of Rome.
* * *
Paige showed up at my place about two hours after dawn.
"Your kitchen ceiling is dripping," she said.
I'd just put down a bucket to catch the leak. "Baby boy got to my fish tank. You should've heard it."
"And there are twenty women in your living room."
"That many?"
"They're semi-naked."
"It's hot out, Paige. By the way, you officially owe favours to every cool person in East Van."
"Just tell me you haven't slept with all of them."
I pretended to count heads. "Only five. Well, six."
She chose—conspicuously, I thought—to ignore my attempt at charm. "Where's my son, Jude?"
"Follow me."
Baby Chase was snoring in the wreckage of my bedroom. Paige squelched across the carpet, crunching broken aquarium glass, and scooped him into her arms.
"Oh, Jude. All your stuff," she murmured, head down against his.
"It's what they do, right?"
"You never wanted to be a mom," she said.
"That was kind of a half-truth."
"You weren't wrong. He is a monster, and I am a basket case."
"A victorious basket case."
"Excuse me?"
"By next month they'll have convicted that fucker Deenie, right? The sidekick'll go off home and make trouble for someone else?"
"What are you saying? All's well that ends well?"
"You're not damaged goods, Paige. When you bit Robb yesterday, I realized. You're anything but fragile. You're tough. And that's . . ."
"It's your strength I'm attracted to."
She stirred the dampened shreds of my buckwheat pillow with her toe. "So no more bullshit?"
"There's always more," I said. "But not that flavour."
"Your sales pitch could use some work." She patted the empty space on my bed.
"You dig honesty." I slipped into the nook, curled around the baby, and kissed her properly.
The kid waved a fist, belching fish.
"Da," he said to me. Bink-bink. The hook sank deeper.
I faked a cringe. "Tell me he's already said Mumma, once at least."
"Nope." She twinkled. "Gonna tell him to cut it out?"
"I'm gonna say keep it up, Chase," I told them both, and planted a kiss on his little feral head as my hand wound into hers.
Copyright 2010 AM Dellamonica
Art copyright 2010 Marcos Chin
Acquired and edited for Tor.com by Stacy Hague-Hill.


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Chemical Accident Prevention Publications
- Chemical Safety Alerts
- Chemical Emergency Preparedness and Prevention Advisories
- Topical Backgrounders
- Additional Documents
Chemical Safety Alerts
Chemical Safety Alert: Rupture Hazard from Liquid Storage Tanks
Issued: September 2009. The Chemical Safety Board (CSB) completed its investigation into the November 2008 Allied Terminals Fertilizer Tank Collapse. This alert has been updated to reflect information from that investigation and to implement the associated CSB recommendations to EPA.
Chemical Safety Alert: Emergency Isolation for Hazardous Material Fluid Transfer Systems - Application and Limitations of Excess Flow Valves
Revised: June 2007
Joint NIOSH/EPA/EOSA Alert: Preventing Worker Injuries and Deaths from Explosions in Industrial Ethylene Oxide Sterilization Facilities (Revised Edition)
Issued: August 2007
Chemical Safety Alert: Identifying Chemical Reactivity Hazards Preliminary Screening Method
Issued: May 2004
Chemical Safety Alert: Hazards of Delayed Coker Unit (DCU) Operations
Issued: August 2003
Pesticide Alert: Pesticide Safety and Site Security
Issued: October 2001
Chemical Safety Alert: Chemical Accidents from Electric Power Outages
Issued: September 2001
Chemical Safety Alert: Hazards of Ammonia Releases at Ammonia Refrigeration Facilities (Updated)
Issued: August 2001
Chemical Safety Alert: Safe Storage and Handling of Swimming Pool Chemicals
Issued: March 2001
Chemical Safety Alert: First Responders' Environmental Liability Due To Mass Decontamination Runoff
Issued: July 2000
Chemical Safety Alert: Anhydrous Ammonia Theft
Issued: March 2000
Chemical Accident Prevention: Site Security
Issued: February 2000
Chemical Safety Alert: Use Multiple Data Sources for Safer Emergency Response
Issued: June 1999
Chemical Safety Alert: Shaft Blow-Out Hazard of Check and Butterfly Valves
Issued: September 1997
Chemical Safety Alert: Rupture Hazard of Pressure Vessels
Issued: May 1997
Chemical Safety Alert: Lightning Hazard to Facilities Handling Flammable Substances
Issued: May 1997
Chemical Safety Alert: Catastrophic Failure of Storage Tanks
Issued: May 1997
Chemical Safety Alert: Fire Hazard From Carbon Adsorption Deodorizing Systems
Issued: May 1997
Chemical Emergency Preparedness and Prevention Advisories
Chemical Advisory - Solid Ammonium Nitrate (AN) Storage, Handling and Management
Revised: June 2015
Interim Chemical Accident Prevention Advisory: Design of LPG Installations at Natural Gas Processing Plants
Issued: January 2014
Chemical Emergency Preparedness and Prevention Advisory: Hydrogen Fluoride
Issued: June 1993
Chemical Emergency Preparedness and Prevention Advisory: Ammonia
Issued: June 1990
Chemical Emergency Preparedness and Prevention Advisory: Swimming Pool Chemicals: Chlorine
Issued: June 1990
Topical Backgrounders
Topical Backgrounder: Chemical Safety in Your Community: EPA's New Risk Management Program
Topical Backgrounder: Evaluating Chemical Hazards in the Community: Using RMP's Offsite Consequence Analysis
Topical Backgrounder: How Safe Am I? Helping Communities Evaluate Chemical Risks
Topical Backgrounder: New Ways to Prevent Chemical Incidents
Additional Documents
Accident Epidemiology and the RMP Rule: Learning from a Decade of Accident History Data for the U.S. Chemical Industry (PDF) (236 pp, 1.7 MB, About PDF) Exit. A report by the Wharton Risk Management and Decision Processes Center describing the major findings from accident epidemiology studies conducted under an EPA-Wharton cooperative agreement. More information is available from the Wharton School Risk Management and Decision Process Center on the Cooperative Study with EPA on Approaches to Reducing Losses from LP-HC Chemical Process Accidents. Exit
Owners, Operators of Stationary Sources Must Comply with Clean Air Act's "General Duty" Clause


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When last we left the soldiers of the 2nd Mass, things were looking up. Our survivors had gotten to Charleston, the new home of the government and military, dealt a decisive blow to the alien invaders when they managed to kill one their warlords, formed an alliance with rebel skitters, and, in the final scenes of the season, met a new ally not of this world. With Falling Skies (as well as its Wil Wheaton-hosted after show 2nd Watch) returning on Sunday, we caught up with showrunner Remi Aubuchon to find out what 2nd Mass is in for.
Nerdist: Falling Skies has always been a dark show, but the second season saw it get pretty desperate. How is the show shifting in tone for season 3?
Remi Aubuchon: I think what we wanted to do in season 2 is really emphasize that it wasn't going to be easy. We really wanted to bring Tom and the 2nd Mass right to the edge of, "Can we actually go on?" All of a sudden this rush of energy comes in at the last minute, really, of the second season. Oh my God, we have a new alien, what's that going to mean for us? I believe that one of the things that makes the second season positive, even though it is clearly darker and it seems as if there is never going to be an end to the tunnel, Tom's resolve to want to fight, to believe that we can win, is strong. he doesn't know how he's going to do it, but possibly these new aliens are going to present the answer to that.
Nerdist: The show combines practical effects and CG effects pretty seamlessly. What is the balance like on set, and how do you prefer to have things shot?
Remi: The basic rule of thumb is whenever there is interaction between the actors and the alien character, we would love to try and have that actor interacting with the alien. It's not always possible. The ashveni, the overlords, are motion capture, and, in essence, Noah has to act with a tennis ball, but we really wanted to bring the new alien in a lot this season, and it seemed the only way to do that would be to have someone in a wonderfully designed costume that would be enhanced by CG. There is, in my mind, no better performer than Doug Jones for that type of character. He's not only facile in being able to make a costume come alive, but he's a wonderful actor. He's the sweetest guy in the world. I think the fun of season 3 is going to be that there are so many twists and turns that just when you think you've figured out what it's going to be, we shift it.
Falling Skies Season 3 premieres Sunday night at 9pm on TNT. 2nd Watch is available after the episode airs.


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- Added value in beauty packaging most often is used as a way to make a product stand out on the shelf, enticing consumers to pick up this product instead of its neighbor.
- Packaging can offer additional functional values, such as better branding, elements that fight counterfeiting and protection of the formulation within.
- As consumers demand more of their beauty products and brands, beauty companies have to be prepared to work more with their suppliers and product developers to create this value for their consumers.
In beauty, there are two constants in packaging: it must be functional and attractive. It must effectively contain and dispense the product while also engaging consumers from the shelf, enticing them to pick up this product instead of the one next to it. However, increasingly, beauty packaging is becoming integral to the use experience of a product, and these added value elements are making collaboration between packaging suppliers and beauty brands that much more important, as well.
"Packaging needs to evolve to help display innovative products. If a product is innovative, the packaging may have to be as well," says Damien Dossien, president, HCP Packaging USA, Inc. "In the consumer's eyes, packaging and product are inextricably intertwined."
"It's about integrating the whole experience for the consumer," says Anisa International president Anisa Telwar. "The best packaging solutions actually improve upon a great beauty product by making it more suitable for a consumer's lifestyle," she explains.
Added Value for Brands
"Besides just housing the product, packaging should be a vehicle for any brand to communicate the essence of their product through the form and function of the package," shares David Hou, director of marketing and sales, Cospack America Corp., on how brands can benefit from added value elements in packaging.
Such packaging considerations help the consumer connect the brand and the product better. "Added-value packaging allows the most flexibility to differentiate a product and make it stand out among products in the same category. Whether it's an obvious innovation, takeaway or decoration, consumers experience an instant visual connection that will enhance the value they place on a product," notes Des McEttrick, market development director, North America beauty, Aptar Beauty + Home.
And Dossien continues the thought, saying, "Active, busy consumers of today have limited time for product selection, therefore the packaging has to be communicating the brand offering, and the total look needs to be recognizable or eye-catching to stand out in overcrowded retail positions. Package shape also adds value to differentiate the product and provide brand identification. The pack can effectively increase brand awareness through innovative design. If a pack is beautiful and looks expensive, it adds to the charisma of the purchase."
That better branding is one of the best ways for beauty brands to see additional value from packaging. "In our case, it usually means taking something that is a stock item and tweaking it slightly to achieve something the customer needs. For example, it might be taking what is essentially a stock bottle—something very familiar or common—and then embossing their name or logo into the plastic for a fairly economical [solution]," says Marny Bielefeldt, director of marketing, Alpha Packaging. "Another way that we can do that is through decorating. We can actually use a textured ink to print a logo that is raised ink on a stock container."
Basically all beauty products—hair care, skin care, sun care, color cosmetics, fragrance, bath and body, and beyond—can benefit from added-value packaging. For example, McEttrick notes, "Decorative bottles, customized components, premium printing and charm elements that can be worn are a few of the ways brands set themselves apart from other fragrances. Additional added-value options for fragrances include customized dip-tube covers, like Diesel Loverdose, and caps, Magic Inside dip-tube accessories, and our So Chic! pump, specially designed for charm or accessory placement."
Staying on added-value packaging for fragrance, Kristy Hooper, global marketing manager, MWV Beauty & Personal Care, also shares, "Our NoC dip tube, which uses light-refractive technology to disappear when it comes into contact with the fragrance solution, is an unique value add for fragrance pumps. This offers a streamlined look for a premium fragrance package, or a private label brand looking to compete with premium brands, and allows the bottle to take center stage."
Often, for brands, the importance of added-value packaging is making sure the product shines in order to connect quality and that specific brand. But there can be very practical considerations, as well. "Some packaging can improve the life of the product and protect it from damage—UV sprays, for example, provide scratch resistance," Dossien explains. "HCP offers many spray options—for example, high gloss, which makes the case last longer and can protect the decoration, and soft touch, which can make the pack more tactile and easier to handle."
And Bielefeldt shares, "I can't tell you how many people picked up regular stock containers—very normal shapes, [including] anything from a Boston round to a basic oblong—and would say, 'We want something exactly like this, but we really want to reinforce our brand and make it something that helps protect against counterfeiting as well.' Because a lot of these larger brands are pretty easily targeted for counterfeiting."
Added Value for Consumers
Packaging that reinforces branding and helps the product stand out is especially helpful for brands, but many suppliers also provide packs that directly offer added value to consumers as well. Sandra Hutson, sales and marketing director, Topline Products, says, "Packaging can add value by improving the user experience—making application more effective, more enjoyable, easier and more convenient. For example, the Almay Intense i-color Smoky-I Kit created by Topline was designed to make it easier for the user to know where to put each eye shadow shade."
Ease of use obviously is a great added-value option for packaging. Highlighting another opportunity, Bielefeldt says, "A lot of companies are looking for ways to really grip their containers better, so we can add a small indentation or a gripper area. It's [mostly] for shampoos and [bath products], to give users an easier way to hold them."
And along those same lines, Hooper explains, "Sun care products also trend toward added value as consumer awareness of the dangers of sun damage increases. Packaging is designed to protect the formula of the sunscreen and offer convenience for consumers. For example, there's been a shift to aerosol sprayers in the sun care market because it's easier for consumers to apply sunscreen to themselves in hard-to-reach places, and parents can quickly protect children without waiting for the lotion to absorb into the skin. Consumers are consistently willing to spend more for less ounces for the convenience of the package."
But it can also be about the intangible way a beauty product makes consumers feel. "The look and feel of a product's packaging—even down to the noise it makes—can impact perception of a brand," explains Hooper. "Value-adds can be tied to how a product makes a consumer feel. During our research for the Melodie Spray Collection, we found that how a fragrance spray feels during application can actually enhance the consumer's emotional connection to a product identity and help elevate their perception of a brand. The more positive the experience, the more likely the consumer is to choose the fragrance brand again."
"An added-value feature found on some beauty products that may not be obvious at first glance is the method used to dispense," adds McEttrick. "Dual chamber packaging used for beauty lotions or serums visually supports the fact that there are two formulas while providing the consumer with an innovative way of dispensing."
The Importance of Packaging
As consumers demand more of their beauty products and brands, beauty companies have to be prepared to work more with their suppliers and product developers to create this value for their consumers. "When working with brands, we pride ourselves on our collaborative process," says Telwar. "It's important to understand a brand's needs and also bring creative ideas to the table that amplify their packaging options."
"Besides addressing the consumer's demand for interactive, multifunctional, time-saving, customizable, and compact and mobile packaging, Topline offers two key options that add value to the total customer experience," says Hutson. "Because we are a full-service provider in both packaging and product, we offer packaging that complements and effectively protects and preserves even the most complex formulations for untainted, maximum usage."
And Dossien notes, "Value added comes from the shopping experience and how a consumer feels about the products they see and use. Attractive packaging that looks expensive and is well designed implies to the consumer that the product is valuable. The shaping, materials, colors, textures and overall appearance of the packaging design needs to be unique and offer secondary benefits."


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Liebherr-Great Britain Ltd. wins National Apprenticeship Award
Winner of the National Apprenticeship Award, Liebherr-Great Britain Ltd. in Biggleswade has reason to be proud! The Awards, run by the National Apprenticeship Service, recognise excellence in two areas: businesses that grow their own talent with apprentices and apprentices who have made a significant contribution to their workplaces.
"We are continually expanding and apprenticeships are now an integral part of the strategy, identifying enthusiastic individuals that can be developed from the ground up and are real assets to the company, bringing productivity, motivation and cost efficiencies," says Lee Mason, Apprentice Programme Manager at Liebherr-Great Britain Ltd., at the ceremony.
The team from Liebherr was not only presented with the prestigious Award but also mentioned on the prestigious Top 100 Apprenticeship Employer list. High recognition indeed as this list, compiled annually by the National Apprenticeship Service and sponsored by City & Guilds, concentrates on identifying excellence in businesses that employ apprentices.


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To Advance and Diffuse the Knowledge of Physics will be on exhibit in its entirety at the National Institutes of Standards and Technology (NIST) headquarters in Gaithersburg, MD through the end of 1999. Visitors are welcome.
The American Physical Society was established over one hundred years ago; the Physical Review six years before that. Together they have shaped and promoted physics research in the 20th century.
This exhibit, commissioned for the APS Centennial, looks at the evolution of the American Physical Society and its research journals, their responsiveness to the needs of science, and their dynamic relationship with American culture. |
APS News will serialize excerpts from this exhibit throughout the Centennial year. Next month: Early Years of the Physical Review.
Physics in America was a meager profession by European standards of the late 19th century. Its first professors were not appointed until the 1870s, and they often paid for apparatus out of their own pockets. University administrators respected teaching more than research. The public applauded technological achievements over abstract ones.
In spite of these deterrents, the aspirations of American physicists were on the rise. So too were their numbers.
During the 19th century, physical sciences became increasingly specialized. In one discipline after another, scientists formed their own professional societies. Section B of the AAAS had been the primary meeting ground for physicists, but it met only once a year.
Physicists were inspired by the formation of the American Chemical Society and the American Mathematical Society.
In the 1890s, Americans were startled by news that European scientists had discovered x-rays, radioactivity, and the electron. New friendships were forged at international electrical meetings in Chicago.
U.S. physicists wanted to be part of the international community. To do this, they needed to meet more often and raise research standards in America.
Thus, self-definition, professionalization, and aspiration were the bedrock on which the American Physical Society was built.
COST OF DOING BUSINESSAPS Budget (1899) - $285 |
Henry A. Rowland |
First president of APS, and physics professor at Johns Hopkins. His presidential address set the tone for the Society:
"To encourage the growth of any science, the best thing we can do is to meet together in its interest, to discuss its problems, to criticise each other's work and, best of all, to provide means by which the better portion of it may be made known to the world."
Marcia KeithMarcia Keith of Mount Holyoke, in her lab, and Isabelle Stone of Vassar were among the 36 founding members. (Photo courtesy: Mount Holyoke College Archives) |
Albert A. MichelsonFirst vice-president and second president. (Photo courtesy: Nimitz Library, USNA/AIP Niels Bohr Library) |
Mission: |
Arthur Gordon WebsterProfessor of physics at Clark University, Webster organized the first APS meeting at Fayerweather Hall, Columbia University on 20 May 1899. (Photo courtesy: Clark University Archives) |
Fayerweather HallColumbia University was the site of the first meeting and remained the home of APS for 60 years. (Photo courtesy: Columbia University Archives) |
Curator: | Sara Schechner Genuth Gnomon Research |
Exhibit Director: | Barrett Ripin |
APS History: | Harry Lustig |
Journals History: | R. Mark Wilson |
Researchers: | George Trigg Ruth Kastner Steven Norton Amy Halsted |
Exhibit Design: | Puches Design Inc. |
Fabrication: | Malone Displays |
APS encourages the redistribution of the materials included in this newspaper provided that attribution to the source is noted and the materials are not truncated or changed.
Editor: Barrett H. Ripin
Associate Editor: Jennifer Ouellette


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Texas Man Receives 20-Year Prison Sentence for Biting Roomate
GALVESTON, Texas (AP) — A Southeast Texas man convicted of biting his female roommate as he argued with his girlfriend has been sentenced to 20 years in prison.
Prosecutors in Galveston County say 32-year-old Jacques Quinn allegedly was intoxicated during the Jan. 18 incident in Hitchcock.
The Galveston County Daily News reports jurors convicted Quinn of felony assault causing bodily injury in the family violence case. Records show Quinn has more than a dozen convictions for assault, theft and drug possession.
Investigators say Quinn and his roommate were living with another woman when the couple got into an argument. The victim was bitten on the arm. Further details on her weren't immediately available.
The defense claimed someone slipped narcotics into Quinn's drink.
Prosecutors announced the sentence Friday.


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Check out the entire Facebook album for more pics!
Welcome to the future. You've just stumbled upon the best thing I've seen in a long, long time. They're called Party Shades and I thought you'd love to know about them. First off, they're more than affordable. You can look like a million bucks for a very low price without looking cheap. Secondly, they're customizable with detaching arms, so you can detach and replace on-the-go. Lastly, the brand offers kickass accessories and tees.
The website reads,
Party Shades Sunglasses was founded in California to realize a simple idea: To create original, affordable and customizable sunglasses for individuals in pursuit of a life of leisure. Available in a grip of colors with interchangeable frames, arms and lenses – Party Shades allow you to show some serious class, on and off the court.
The packaging is impeccable! You feel like a kid on Christmas morning.
A plethora of options await you in the form of arm designs, shade savers, and croozies. Tailgate handsfree for the rest of your life. bend over without having to worry about spilling your lemonade. My eyes are jumping out of my skull right now. That's how excited I am about this brand.
Peacock in crazy colorways by checking out what is offered in the shade savers, lenses, and sunglasses. Colorways with names like Cement Grey and Galatic Blue are waiting for you.
Learn more about Party Shades by visiting their website, Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube pages.
Leave a Comment
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I have spent quite some time trying to figure out what the fastest way is to get a list lists of all subexpressions and their positions. I have tried things with MapIndexed, which seems ideal in cases where we have an expression in which no functions with Hold-Attributes are present that we can let evaluate freely. For Held expressions, however, I found using MapIndexed complicated and I was unable to get a practical solution using this. Furthermore, I have tried things with Extract and Position.
All these things were hinted at in the comments of/answers to the positionFunction question by Mr.Wizard, which caused me to be interested in this. Because I have spent time on this and because I feel this is quite a fundamental question, I would like to get some feedback. To be fair, I am also quite glad with my own answer, as it is considerably faster than the alternatives I found (although it took me a long time), but if there are better alternatives I would be even gladder to know. Lastly, it may be nice for me to refer to this Q&A later, if I ever write a good answer to Mr.Wizards question.
The question is: What is the fastest way to get a list of lists of subexpressions and their positions, that works with held expressions?
Test expressions
Let's make a big expression to do tests with. Let
body[i_][n_] := If[n < i, head[body[i][n + 1], body[i][n + 1]], 1];
tree12 = head[body[12][1]];
tree3 = head[body[3][1]];
We have
LeafCount[tree12] == 2^12 && LeafCount[tree3] == 2^3


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More than two weeks ago, the Bears slammed the door in the face of the most recent face of their defense. Still, he's currently no closer to joining a new team than he was when the Bears cut him loose.
Per a source with knowledge of the situation, Urlacher won't imminently be signing with a new team. He's talking with a few teams, all of which are contenders. If anything happens, it likely won't happen for a while.
And with the Bears opening the door a crack for Urlacher, Urlacher currently isn't ready to push. Though it's not an impossibility that he'll return to Chicago, his primary goal will be to join a potential winner -- especially since the money isn't going to be close to what he had been receiving.


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Six Essential Best Practices in Law Firm Website Design
Read about how lawyers and law firms can transform their Internet marketing efforts into a top-notch, effective website. Some of these tips are intended to make your site easy to use on multiple devices, from computers to tablets to mobile phones. Others are basic tips regarding functionality and design. A must-read for lawyers with websites.