July 2, 2012

• “OMG, Am I seein’ Mycean mice, Ian?”

       My next-door neighbor, gruff as usual, wet-blanketed my excitement with a spiritless “No, and you don’t have to say it three times, I heard you.”
  He’d left his garage door up, in a moment of reckless abandon, and was dicking with what I’d always assumed was a chest freezer. A quick glance inside revealed a mini-world far from the frozen steaks I’d thought of; a floor of snow, mazes, ferris wheels, little faux-alpine houses.
  And mice….
  “They’re Nepalese Snow-blinds. if you have to know.” Ian decided to share some small secret, for whatever reason.
      With the lid propped open just a tad, a cast-off sandal, Ian was smoothing the snow on the floor of the freezer. The three shaggy White Nepalese looked for all the world like miniature yaks, and I had to supress a yuk, but what quickly caught my eye was the other mice, some a yellow-buff colour, and some, standard ‘mousey’ grey, huddling lethargically in one corner.
  “This is your job, right?” 
  I’d known that Ian worked for some Institute.
  “A job’s something they pay you to do, no?” Ian muttered distractedly. “Ok, maybe after I publish the paper they’ll give me a couple ‘Atta-Boys’.”
  I’d had time meanwhile to get a better grasp of the project; first of all:  three whites, albeit with a grey stripe on the side of their heads, which made them look like they were holding their noses aloft.
  “Them are the Nepalese, right?” I asked Ian.
  “Yeah, Snow-blinds.” he told me, warming up a bit.
  “Funny, I always thought it was ‘snob-lined’.” I admitted. (Hey, who died and made me a mouse-expert?)
  “And the others?”
  “Well, in addition, there are, as you can see, three ‘blonde’ mice. They do OK in the cold, oddly enough.”
  “And the other three dead-beats there in the corner?” I asked Ian, but I kinda knew the answer.
  “Three bland mice, to put it nicely.” he said.
  My next question was…
  “Your next question is probably, you know, WTF are you working on?” Ian sounded like he was ready to tell all.
  “OK, WTF?”
  “Well, I’m doing the maze twice a day, time-trials, blind vs. blonde vs. bland. Recording data. That’s what we do.”
  “Doesn’t a peer-reviewed study require double-blind?” I asked him, maybe still a bit miffed about his initial attitude.
  “You have any idea how hard it is to find blind vet-techs these days? I mean twenty years ago they were lined up to the end of the block. Stories of candidates who actually blinded themselves to get a job. Nowadays you’re lucky to find someone remotely qualified who even wears glasses.”
  “I’ll just have to fudge the article a little, I guess.” Ian revealed, looking out the door carefully. The exigencies of publish-or-perish.
  “Better close the lid, the snow might melt.” I told him, feeling helpful.
  “No problem, I got more, back there in the other freezer. Saved it from last winter, you remember that storm?”
  “Well, you could always buy more.. from somewhere?” I suggested, thinking of, you know, year-round ski-slopes.
  “Are you kidding? My snow-mice know my snow!” Ian sounded almost fatherly.
  “And now who’s repeating himself?” I laughed. “I heard you the first time. And good luck with your vowels… I mean, your mice.”

  • 2:22 pm
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