Macadamia, macadam, tarmac, MacAdam, and McAdam

Posted: September 23, 2025 | Author: | Filed under: Australia | Leave a comment

The macadamia nut was named after John Macadam, Scotch-Australian academic. The nut is native to northeastern Australia, but famously cultivated in Hawaii, for example by Roseanne Barr, whose farm is for sale.

Macadam, a road surface of layers of crushed stones, was named after John Loudon McAdam, a Scottish engineer.

When you add tar to macadam, you get “tarmac.”

While the specific tarmac pavement is not common in some countries today, many people use the word to refer to generic paved areas at airports, especially the apron near airport terminals, although these areas are often made of concrete.

Idle bit of history/etymology I picked up after eating a macadamia nut.

Redondo Beach Submarine Canyon

Posted: September 10, 2025 | Author: | Filed under: the California Condition | Leave a comment

I noticed this deep canyon on my Raven map of southern California. You can see it on Google maps.

Here’s what to expect when you dive the canyon:

After a short swim you drop down to a 25-30 foot sand bottom and move west. As you reach a depth of about 35 feet, you’ll start down a rather steep slope to about 75-80 feet, which quickly drops to below 100 feet and then to the abyss. This is the Redondo Submarine Canyon.

While the sand leading out to the canyon edge has a lot of marine life, most divers like the deep mud flats. Long before “muck diving” became popular with photographers at some fancy tropical resorts, southern California divers were visiting sand and mud flats at local submarine canyons. Just as with these resort destinations, our muck has much to offer in the critter department.

Look for small creatures like a camouflaged octopus or brightly colored nudibranchs, which can be spotted year-round. In late fall through winter months, lucky night divers can witness market squid mating in massive numbers. It’s been described as a blizzard of frantic activity. After the mating the seafloor will be carpeted in large clusters of white egg cases — and dead or dying adult squid, who kick the bucket shortly after they do the deed.

Whether it is squid season or not, this place is an excellent night dive with a lot of small animals to be seen.

One creature that can be found on nearly every dive, day or night, is the massive sheep crab. Its clumsy motions are comical to observe but watch out for the claws! Their pinch is insanely strong. The sheep crabs here are the biggest you’ll find anywhere along our coast. Some of them measure three feet across!

The city of Redondo Beach has two webcams to soothe in troubled times:

https://www.youtube.com/live/Ni7v-aIa3bw

https://www.youtube.com/live/2kbj3LqB_20

Tender memories of Mom

Posted: September 6, 2025 | Author: | Filed under: family | Leave a comment

Around age eight or nine, romping in the woods beyond the end of our street, and by the brook, around the pond and the abandoned Girl Scout camp was a big part of my time.

I would collect sticks in the woods, sticks that resembled guns or swords or sticks that were good for poking in the mud of the pond. I kept my collection of sticks behind a rhododendron bush that was just to the left as you approached our front porch.

Some of the sticks were falling apart, abandoned sticks had accumulated as newer, fresher sticks were gained. The pile of sticks, if you thought about the appearance and presentation of the house, was an issue.

One day Mom came to me in a calm, gentle moment and said, “Stephen,” (she was the only person who called me Stephen) “can we have a conversation about your sticks?”

The way she put it. We made a compromise where I kept the most important sticks. Every time we saw each other I felt fairly dealt with on the matter of sticks.

Many times around age nine (dropping off and picking up my sister at a class?) Mom and I walked in the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. I was drawn to the giant statue of Mycerinus (who wouldn’t be?) Forever after, whenever the MFA came up, sometimes for no reason at all, my mom would invoke the magical name of Mycerinus.

(Kind of resentful they’ve made his name Menkaure, less melodious. How did a guy who died 4500 years ago get renamed in the last 30?)

Sometimes in adulthood I’d tell my mom about sending something off, to a publisher or a studio or something. Several times Mom said something like, “it must be so hard to let something go.”

Only later did it occur to me she might’ve been trying to share something about herself.

(source)