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Your Inner Neanderthal

by Jim Shahin

Neanderthals, Humans Didn't Mix
"There is no convincing evidence that Neanderthals and modern humans ever mixed in substantial numbers, which means that when the Neanderthals died out, so did their genes." - AOL teaser for an AP story about a Stanford University study



Yeah. Right. No convincing evidence …
How do you explain the check-writing woman at the
supermarket? There she is with her head of iceberg lettuce, her two cans of green beans, her package of Q-Tips, and her 16-ounce bottle of Sprite. She's well under the 15-items-or-less limit, so you figure she's got it together. The other lines are long, with people holding baskets, or they're short, with two or three customers pushing carts piled Everest-high with groceries. You have no idea how you got so lucky, but you did.
You get in line behind the woman, feeling victorious, knowing that this time, finally, you picked the right line. What could go wrong?

But when the cashier finishes ringing her up, it happens: The woman reaches inside her purse. You hope against hope that maybe she is just going for her wallet and will pull out a twenty and all will be right with the world. But your hopefulness dissolves into a kind of knowing dread as she rummages around the handbag.

"It's in here," she says and smiles wanly at the cashier.

IT'S IN THERE, ALL RIGHT, you want to scream. SO WHY DIDN'T YOU PULL IT OUT BEFORE YOU GOT TO THE REGISTER? Entire evolutionary adaptations take place during the eon it takes her to fill out the check.

Meanwhile, the woman who was in the lane next to yours, the one with the mountain of groceries, is long gone. She's out in the parking lot, the sun shining on her, putting the last of her bags in her trunk. You turn your gaze to the lane where she had been. The guy who was behind her, the guy who would have been you, is gone. The person behind him is exiting. But you're stuck behind the check lady.

"Oh," the woman says. "I forgot. I need a pack of cigarettes."

No convincing evidence?

Apparently, scientists don't shop at supermarkets.



They don't have to, though. Evidence of the continued
existence of Neanderthal genes in Homo sapiens (i.e., us) is
everywhere. Have you driven on a city street recently? Tell me that Neanderthals aren't driving cars.

Have you ever observed a man at his barbecue grill? Playing with fire is as Neanderthal as it gets.

What about people who don't return your call or reply to your e-mail? Manners are a hallmark of a civilized, modern people. Rudeness is the vestige of a preliterate, grunting people. In other words, Neanderthal. (Judged by that standard, if anything, the Neanderthal genes are on a rampage.)

A friend of mine knows a guy who gave his girlfriend only 10 of the dozen roses he bought her for Valentine's, giving one each to office secretaries. That's Neanderthal enough. But then the guy went on to tell his girlfriend that the next night, Valentine's Day itself, he'd need to get together with a friend and his two women friends for dinner. I don't have any more details than that. Maybe the guy's friend was the president and the women were two of the president's advisors and this was the only time all of them could get together. I don't know. I only know that there is Neanderthal aplenty in this story, and not just on the guy's part, though mostly on the guy's part. The girlfriend has to own up to a bit of Neanderthal genetics herself if she is staying with the guy.

I think you can see Neanderthal genes every day. Yelling at the television during a sports event as if it will somehow change the outcome. Neanderthal. Throwing or breaking one's golf club. Neanderthal. Beavis and Butthead, Jackass,
reality programming, who thinks this stuff up — and who watches it? Neanderthals.

Given all this evidence, maybe that’s why not all scientists believe that contemporary humans are free of Neanderthal genes. Some studies, reports The Associated Press, “have suggested extensive interbreeding between the Neanderthals and modern humans.”

Me, I say, Duh! Humans will interbreed with anybody. Just check out a bar at closing time.

Course, I could be wrong about the existence of Neanderthal genes in Homo sapiens. Maybe Neanderthals and
humans didn’t go to dance parties together. Maybe I just want there to be a Neanderthal gene in humans so I’ll always have something to blame for such things as turning left from the right-hand lane and ordering two pastas at the same meal. Maybe I just want something to hide behind after one of those knuckle-scrapingly stupid actions when I think to myself, That wasn’t me.

On the other hand, I could be right. Maybe it really wasn’t me doing those things. Maybe it was my inner Neanderthal.

I hope so. Otherwise, what explanation do any of us have?




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