There's a World in Geese
I recently spent much of a work day and all of dinner with some North Dakota goose farmers and their Indian virologist. The goose farm is a family owned business that raises free-range, organic, all natural geese and then uses every part of the goose for commercial purposes. This has been going on since before World War II. They sell goose meat for eating, goose down for making into comforters and pillows, goose eggs for artists to paint into decorative Faberge-type things, etc. Their motto is "we sell everything but the honk." But now they have a new product to come from the goose -- goose antibodies that they think could cure everything from West Nile virus to Ebola.
The goose men all showed up in short-sleeved button down shirts embroidered with their multi-colored, mildly effeminate goose farm logo. They were big beefy North Dakota men. Their Indian virologist was very Indian indeed and had only been in North Dakota for six weeks and wasn't sure how he liked it yet. The beefy men told me their geese were happy; they are genetically engineered to be unable to fly so apparently they don't miss much of a normal goose's life. They are also genetically engineered to have very large breasts. Geese are pretty fatty naturally, I was told (more on this later), which is one reason goose foie gras is yummy. But as you can imagine, listening to these burly goose farmers talk about how wonderfully fatty their goose breasts were naturally amused me a great deal. As a colleague said later on hearing the story, "Ah! They sound like me! Can't fly, pretty fatty, and huge breasts!"
It won't surprise anyone who knows me to hear that I considered the prospect of 5 straight hours of goose-related chit chat to be an irresistible challenge. Not to mention the virology/Ebola overlay. So I thought I would share with you all the ornamental knowledge of geese and related matters that I acquired:
I said my experience with geese to date was negative. I was chased by an irate goose in college somewhere in the countryside. Considering that I went to college in New York City, I'm not quite sure how I ended up in the country-side, how I got there, why I was there, who I was with, etc. All I really remember was this big white goose chasing me and grabbing my pant leg. Very vicious. More recently, my big black horse Kona was attacked by a goose whilst walking in a mild-mannered way through a river and was quite traumatized by it. Kona is not a very brave horse to begin with and, to be honest, is somewhat easily traumatized, but still, not very nice of the goose. I said all this and the North Dakotans said, "those are wild geese. Our geese aren't wild. Domesticated geese make very good pets." "Outdoor pets, right?" I asked.
I asked whether it was true that geese mate for life. "Basically," was the response. "What does 'basically' mean? Until a better, younger goose comes along?" They chortled and said, "oh no, that's humans, not geese." Geese, they explained will be faithful until a mate dies or is lost, or something. At which point they "move on." Geese "get over it." Widowed geese can re-marry.
I asked why we don't eat goose eggs. "They are too big," was the answer. "How big?" "As big as seven chicken eggs." That's pretty big. I suggested someone could make an omelet for an entire family with only one goose egg, and wouldn't that be very economically. Maybe diners would like to offer goose egg scrambled eggs, etc. "No," they said, "goose eggs taste horrible." This surprised me coming from such fans of the goose. The reason is that geese, as mentioned above, are naturally very fatty and so their eggs contain vast amounts of lipids that when fried turn into lipid leather. "How about cakes, then" I said. Ah! Apparently the best and highest use of a goose egg is to make a cake -- goose eggs produce fabulously rich and velvety cake batter. The only problem is you need to make a really big cake. I, for one, have never seen a cake recipe that calls for the equivalent of 7 chicken eggs.
Geese lived to be 80 years old. Consider this if you are thinking of getting one as a pet.
None of the "down" things you buy in the average department store or linen store are made of goose down. "Down" pillows and comforters are made either of duck down, chicken down, or unmentionable fakes. Eiderdown is down from a specific kind of duck that lives only in Switzerland. A real goose down comforter costs approximately $1,000. As much as a mattress.
I asked if they would make be a real goose down comforter. "No." What?! They explained that a goose down comforter is only for very cold climates, like North Dakota and Lapland. If you try to sleep under a goose down comforter anywhere else you will sweat so much you will lose 100 percent of your body weight by morning and thus be invisible.
I proposed, instead, a goose down jacket. "No, you'd have to wear literally nothing else at all (due to body melting) which means you could never take the jacket off which means it wouldn't be very useful." Fine.
The North Dakotans did not realize that the Chesapeake Bay was a haven for wild geese. They were fascinated. I told them to read James Michener's Chesapeake, particularly the chapters told from the perspective of the geese.
The farmers confirmed that even domestic geese post a sentry to watch for enemies while everyone else eats.
I discussed the relationship between geese and foxhunting. I.e., geese are to be avoided. Some people string thin wires over their ponds to keep the geese from landing there. I've seen this especially up in the Green Spring Valley. It seems to work.
We turned to virology. They told me the story of how their flock was decimated in 2003 by West Nile Virus. Think about that, folks. "Can a goose really get bitten by a mosquito, what with all that impenetrable down, and all?" Yes, they said, but it's sort of irrelevant. A goose can get bitten by a mosquito on its eyelids. But the burly geese farmers had figured out that West Nile is not transmitted to avians by mosquitoes. They get it from their food supply. Apparently the State Veterinarian of North Dakota does not agree with them but nevertheless, these burly goose men vaccinated their entire flock by putting goose antibodies from their very own flock into the goose drinking water. 100 percent protection, apparently. This avoided them having to give a subcutaneous injection to each goose in the flock -- 100,000 or something. One man -- 100,000 geese. Bummer.
I learned that the Indian virologist hailed from Madras and that his wife hailed from Kenya. "How did you meet?" Ah, well, you see, at Kenyan independence, Kenya "repatriated" all the British to Britain. The Indian merchant families were considered "British" and so were shipped off to London. Both they and Britain were appalled. The Kenyan Indians had never been to England and did not consider themselves British and found it horribly cold and gloomy. The British thought they were freeing themselves of "colonials" and were shocked to find droves of "non-English" people coming back from all over Africa during the 60s. So Britain promptly "repatriated" the Kenyan Indians to India. Another foreign land to the Kenyan Indians but mildly preferable. From India, our virologist's wife made her way to the US for studies, as did he, and they met. Ta daa.
This lead to a conversation about World War I in Africa and how South African was an interesting place to follow the war because half the Afrikaners supported Germany and half of them supported Holland and therefore England. Tres complique.
Turns out the Indian virologist and I know many people in common from the pharmaceutical R&D world. This blew the goose farmers away. They consider their virologist to be a polite man from Madras who lived in Grand Forks and who can talk about antibodies and me to be some Washington lobbyist (which I'm not, of course). Not only did we know people in common but we have even worked on some of the same vaccines. And this was when I brought up Ebola -- "can you treat Ebola?" "Yes, oh yes, we could!" "How would you conduct a clinical trial?" I asked. You can't put people with Ebola on a placebo because they will surely die and there is no standard of care at the moment so basically would be impossible to do a controlled test."Yes, yes, that is indeed our difficulty. Very great difficulty." I told him I would think about it to see if I came up with any ideas.
The geese farmers concluded after all this that I may be "the smartest woman we have ever met." Not sure what that means coming from North Dakotan goose men. And I didn't feel like explaining to them that ornamental knowledge does not necessarily equal intelligence.
I'm sure there was more but that's what I remember at the moment. And you will be pleased to know that these people are all coming to DC again because I got them invited to the Second Annual Swine Flu Conference that is taking place next week at Dulles (an irony, no?). They agreed that the geese can help the people fight the pigs.
My work here is done.
I recently spent much of a work day and all of dinner with some North Dakota goose farmers and their Indian virologist. The goose farm is a family owned business that raises free-range, organic, all natural geese and then uses every part of the goose for commercial purposes. This has been going on since before World War II. They sell goose meat for eating, goose down for making into comforters and pillows, goose eggs for artists to paint into decorative Faberge-type things, etc. Their motto is "we sell everything but the honk." But now they have a new product to come from the goose -- goose antibodies that they think could cure everything from West Nile virus to Ebola.
The goose men all showed up in short-sleeved button down shirts embroidered with their multi-colored, mildly effeminate goose farm logo. They were big beefy North Dakota men. Their Indian virologist was very Indian indeed and had only been in North Dakota for six weeks and wasn't sure how he liked it yet. The beefy men told me their geese were happy; they are genetically engineered to be unable to fly so apparently they don't miss much of a normal goose's life. They are also genetically engineered to have very large breasts. Geese are pretty fatty naturally, I was told (more on this later), which is one reason goose foie gras is yummy. But as you can imagine, listening to these burly goose farmers talk about how wonderfully fatty their goose breasts were naturally amused me a great deal. As a colleague said later on hearing the story, "Ah! They sound like me! Can't fly, pretty fatty, and huge breasts!"
It won't surprise anyone who knows me to hear that I considered the prospect of 5 straight hours of goose-related chit chat to be an irresistible challenge. Not to mention the virology/Ebola overlay. So I thought I would share with you all the ornamental knowledge of geese and related matters that I acquired:
I said my experience with geese to date was negative. I was chased by an irate goose in college somewhere in the countryside. Considering that I went to college in New York City, I'm not quite sure how I ended up in the country-side, how I got there, why I was there, who I was with, etc. All I really remember was this big white goose chasing me and grabbing my pant leg. Very vicious. More recently, my big black horse Kona was attacked by a goose whilst walking in a mild-mannered way through a river and was quite traumatized by it. Kona is not a very brave horse to begin with and, to be honest, is somewhat easily traumatized, but still, not very nice of the goose. I said all this and the North Dakotans said, "those are wild geese. Our geese aren't wild. Domesticated geese make very good pets." "Outdoor pets, right?" I asked.
I asked whether it was true that geese mate for life. "Basically," was the response. "What does 'basically' mean? Until a better, younger goose comes along?" They chortled and said, "oh no, that's humans, not geese." Geese, they explained will be faithful until a mate dies or is lost, or something. At which point they "move on." Geese "get over it." Widowed geese can re-marry.
I asked why we don't eat goose eggs. "They are too big," was the answer. "How big?" "As big as seven chicken eggs." That's pretty big. I suggested someone could make an omelet for an entire family with only one goose egg, and wouldn't that be very economically. Maybe diners would like to offer goose egg scrambled eggs, etc. "No," they said, "goose eggs taste horrible." This surprised me coming from such fans of the goose. The reason is that geese, as mentioned above, are naturally very fatty and so their eggs contain vast amounts of lipids that when fried turn into lipid leather. "How about cakes, then" I said. Ah! Apparently the best and highest use of a goose egg is to make a cake -- goose eggs produce fabulously rich and velvety cake batter. The only problem is you need to make a really big cake. I, for one, have never seen a cake recipe that calls for the equivalent of 7 chicken eggs.
Geese lived to be 80 years old. Consider this if you are thinking of getting one as a pet.
None of the "down" things you buy in the average department store or linen store are made of goose down. "Down" pillows and comforters are made either of duck down, chicken down, or unmentionable fakes. Eiderdown is down from a specific kind of duck that lives only in Switzerland. A real goose down comforter costs approximately $1,000. As much as a mattress.
I asked if they would make be a real goose down comforter. "No." What?! They explained that a goose down comforter is only for very cold climates, like North Dakota and Lapland. If you try to sleep under a goose down comforter anywhere else you will sweat so much you will lose 100 percent of your body weight by morning and thus be invisible.
I proposed, instead, a goose down jacket. "No, you'd have to wear literally nothing else at all (due to body melting) which means you could never take the jacket off which means it wouldn't be very useful." Fine.
The North Dakotans did not realize that the Chesapeake Bay was a haven for wild geese. They were fascinated. I told them to read James Michener's Chesapeake, particularly the chapters told from the perspective of the geese.
The farmers confirmed that even domestic geese post a sentry to watch for enemies while everyone else eats.
I discussed the relationship between geese and foxhunting. I.e., geese are to be avoided. Some people string thin wires over their ponds to keep the geese from landing there. I've seen this especially up in the Green Spring Valley. It seems to work.
We turned to virology. They told me the story of how their flock was decimated in 2003 by West Nile Virus. Think about that, folks. "Can a goose really get bitten by a mosquito, what with all that impenetrable down, and all?" Yes, they said, but it's sort of irrelevant. A goose can get bitten by a mosquito on its eyelids. But the burly geese farmers had figured out that West Nile is not transmitted to avians by mosquitoes. They get it from their food supply. Apparently the State Veterinarian of North Dakota does not agree with them but nevertheless, these burly goose men vaccinated their entire flock by putting goose antibodies from their very own flock into the goose drinking water. 100 percent protection, apparently. This avoided them having to give a subcutaneous injection to each goose in the flock -- 100,000 or something. One man -- 100,000 geese. Bummer.
I learned that the Indian virologist hailed from Madras and that his wife hailed from Kenya. "How did you meet?" Ah, well, you see, at Kenyan independence, Kenya "repatriated" all the British to Britain. The Indian merchant families were considered "British" and so were shipped off to London. Both they and Britain were appalled. The Kenyan Indians had never been to England and did not consider themselves British and found it horribly cold and gloomy. The British thought they were freeing themselves of "colonials" and were shocked to find droves of "non-English" people coming back from all over Africa during the 60s. So Britain promptly "repatriated" the Kenyan Indians to India. Another foreign land to the Kenyan Indians but mildly preferable. From India, our virologist's wife made her way to the US for studies, as did he, and they met. Ta daa.
This lead to a conversation about World War I in Africa and how South African was an interesting place to follow the war because half the Afrikaners supported Germany and half of them supported Holland and therefore England. Tres complique.
Turns out the Indian virologist and I know many people in common from the pharmaceutical R&D world. This blew the goose farmers away. They consider their virologist to be a polite man from Madras who lived in Grand Forks and who can talk about antibodies and me to be some Washington lobbyist (which I'm not, of course). Not only did we know people in common but we have even worked on some of the same vaccines. And this was when I brought up Ebola -- "can you treat Ebola?" "Yes, oh yes, we could!" "How would you conduct a clinical trial?" I asked. You can't put people with Ebola on a placebo because they will surely die and there is no standard of care at the moment so basically would be impossible to do a controlled test."Yes, yes, that is indeed our difficulty. Very great difficulty." I told him I would think about it to see if I came up with any ideas.
The geese farmers concluded after all this that I may be "the smartest woman we have ever met." Not sure what that means coming from North Dakotan goose men. And I didn't feel like explaining to them that ornamental knowledge does not necessarily equal intelligence.
I'm sure there was more but that's what I remember at the moment. And you will be pleased to know that these people are all coming to DC again because I got them invited to the Second Annual Swine Flu Conference that is taking place next week at Dulles (an irony, no?). They agreed that the geese can help the people fight the pigs.
My work here is done.
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