Tag: Dinosaur

OCTOBER 1, 1989: YOU SAY BRONTO AND I SAY . . .

Posted on by Richard Daybell

In 1989, the United States Post Office issued a series of four stamps depicting dinosaurs, little realizing that it was re-igniting the infamous Bone Wars of more than a hundred years earlier.

The Bone Wars, also known as the Great Dinosaur Rush, was a period of fossil fever during the late 19th century during which a heated rivalry between two paleontologists (yes, it sounds bizarre) led to dirty tricks, bribery, theft, and even the destruction of bones. Each scientist also attacked the other in scientific print, hoping to ruin his credibility and have his funding cut off. During this period, one of the combatants hastily brought to public that big cuddly dinosaur we’ve come to love, the brontosaurus. Turns out he had gone public with that same dinosaur a couple of years earlier under an entirely different name, apatosaurus.

Another paleontologist brought this mistake to light in 1903, pointing out that protocol required the first name used, apatosaurus, to be the official name. Why did the name continue to be used in popular books, articles and even on museum displays? It seems the 1903 discovery was only presented in a very obscure scientific journal. It took another 70 years for the brontosaurus to officially get the boot to synonym status.

And along comes the U.S. Post Office in 1989 identifying the big guy as a brontosaurus. Well, didn’t some dinosaur groupies with not enough to keep themselves busy get all hot and bothered, accusing the Postal Service of promoting scientific illiteracy.   And even after this brouhaha, most of us still insist on having our brontosaurus.

Maybe it’s because brontosaurus means “thunder lizard” and apatosaurus means (ho-hum) “deceptive lizard.”

You Thought These Guys Were Big?

Compared to Bronto or Apato or practically any other dinosaur you’d like to name, we homo sapiens are a rather puny lot these days, even those few who top out at seven feet or so. Back in the day, as they say — way back in the day — folks were somewhat larger. We have a very convenient adamcatalog of how we don’t measure up provided for us back in 1718 by an astute French academician named Henrion. Both his first name and biography have been lost to the ages (he was probably short). What remains, however, is his scholarly demonstration of the height of several important figures.

Starting right at the beginning as Henrion did, Adam was a towering drink of water at 123 feet, 9 inches. Interestingly he had been even taller. When first created, he was so tall his head reached into the heavens where it evidently nonplussed the angels enough that God was forced to shrink him to a more comfortable size. God very wisely kept him taller that Eve’s 118 feet, 9 inches. (Adam would have looked pretty silly with a fig leaf and elevator shoes.)

The kids didn’t measure up to their parents, nor did the next generation. In fact, a significant downsizing was underway. Noah was only 27 feet tall, Abraham 20 feet, and Moses a mere 13 feet. (The trend is becoming alarming!) Alexander was hardly the Great at six feet, and Julius Caesar was downright little at five feet. Mankind was on a course that would leave us microscopic little things, not even visible to the naked eye.

But, according to the learned Monsieur Henrion, Christianity saved us. We got religion and began to grow again.

 

January 22, 2003: No, a Raptor Isn’t a Rap Singer

Posted on by Richard Daybell

Although it might just as well be.  This overused word could refer to a truck model, a Toronto basketball player, a video game, a space ship, a roller coaster or a (ho hum) flow chart program.  We’ll stick with the classic raptor, however — a bird-like dinosaur (or, if you prefer a dinosaur-like bird),  a (wherefore art thou) dromeosaur to be specific.  The most famous of these would be the velociraptor, thanks to the movie Jurassic World.  The newest kid on the block would be the Microraptor Gui who had its coming out party on January 22, 2003 when Chinese researchers announced its discovery.

Microraptor Gui is a cute little creature as dinosaurs go.  A four-winged, flying feathered people eater, if you will.  At a height of three feet, it looks vaguely like a baby dragon or a roadrunner.  It probably couldn’t have eaten people, just nipped annoyingly at their heinies, although those who know such things would say there were no human heinies around to nip at.  What this little fellow does is give us a chance to segue to the dinosaurs that are really interesting — the big ones, the ones who would swallow people whole.

Take brontosaurus . . . please.  Seventy feet from nose to tail — that’s a lot to swallow.  If you don’t believe that the world is getting hotter or that its round or that Joe Biden won the 2020 election, you’re gonna believe in this guy placidly chomping on tree tops rather than his fellow dinosaurs? Or tasty humans?  We could show countless film clips showing humans and dinosaurs together but instead we’ll show a clip of two dinosaurs fighting.  Over the last human, probably.

No, Your Other West

Back to flying creatures. (How’s that for a segue?) American aviator Douglas Corrigan was born on January 22, 1907.  In 1938, he bought a fixer-upper airplane and rebuilt it himself.  Then in July of that year he flew nonstop from California to New York.  This wasn’t a first by any means; he only got national attention because no one thought his clunker would make it.

In New York, he filed flight plans for a transatlantic trip but was denied permission by aviation authorities.  They did grudgingly give him permission for a return trip to California, and once again he took to the air.  Twenty-eight hours later he touched down in Dublin, Ireland, expressing surprise that it didn’t look much like California.  When advised of his actual location, he aw shucksed a story about getting confused in the clouds with a bum compass.

No one believed it, and he was grounded and shipped back to the states along with his plane.  But “Wrong Way” Corrigan had become a national celebrity.

Your Feet’s Too Big

Sir Walter Raleigh, born on January 22, 1552, was what you might call an English dabbler.  He colonized, soldiered, explored, spied, wrote poetry, played at politics, and pushed tobacco.  He was a favorite courtier of Queen Elizabeth I because, as legend has it, he spread his coat over a puddle so she wouldn’t get her feet wet.  He was executed in 1618 by James I, who did get his feet wet.