I hadn't driven my car for a couple days. So I get in, and the unmistakable stench of rot hits me like the hot air from an oven door. Fortunately, it wasn't an old steak I forgot to toss. It was an old banana peel that had tumbled under the seat to decompose in the company of loose change, golf tees, and the odd gum wrapper. I knew it had to be fruit before I found it, because the car was swarming with fruit flies, those creepy red-eyed buggers that appear like apparitions out of nowhere. The car windows were closed, there are no gaping rust holes, yet an entire division of Drosophila melanogaster had found its way in—somehow.

Maybe dormant larvae comes standard in this Volkswagen. I looked up some info, figuring that maybe, just maybe, their tiny larvae are already part of the deal when you bite in to that peach or whatever. You know, I figured hey—maybe they came in with the damn banana itself.

But nah. They're apparently just really good at breaking in. I'm glad they didn't steal any CDs. Figure they smell the fermentation from who knows how far away, they land on the car, nose around for a strong draft point, and follow the air. Pretty amazing little bastards, they.

At some point I remembered that my dad had spent a lot of his early thirties studying fruit flies for his doctorate in genetics. Fruit flies were the ultimate test subject because they have about a 10-day life span, perfect for studying heredity. They're also simple creatures that "took well" to genetic manipulation in the early days. They engineered wingless fruit flies, orange-eyed fruit flies, albino fruit flies, fruit flies with tiny, vestigial wings, etc. So anyway I hit the book shelf and found his thesis. It's a dull read, that Ph.D., but I'm glad I finally took a real look at it.

On a sort of related note, this article sounds pretty encouraging. Stem cells are clearly the answer to humanity's most horrible diseases. There are many people standing in the way of this corner of progress, but you can't hold back a wave this strong. Other countries will do it, and we'll have to follow suit. Good for you, good for me.

Labels: ponderage