the Zamboni Effect

Today’s post connects weirdly with the one I wrote yesterday entitled “The Zamboni Effect,” in which I mistakenly believed I had invented the term “Zamboni Effect” based on my observation of what an ice resurfacing machine did to an ice rink in a local mall. It clarified the ice and also metaphorically, by extension, clarified relationships from the past viewed in the present—sort of.

As a reminder, the ice resurfacing machine was first invented in 1949 by a guy named Frank Zamboni. A lot of companies with different names make them nowadays but people still tend to call them all Zambonis.

Just for fun, I looked up the “Zamboni Effect” on the web today and it returned a few surprising results. Among the different meanings of the Zamboni Effect:

Zamboni Effect related to optimizing the ocular surface for surgery.
Zamboni Effect related to a scientist named Paolo Zamboni, who invented a controversial treatment for multiple sclerosis which later turned out to be ineffective.
Zamboni Effect related to something that happens in connection with dynamical nuclear spin polarization (whatever that is).

And for all I know, there may be other meanings for the Zamboni Effect that just never made it to the internet.

I was walking around the mall today doing ordinary old guy things: watching the Zamboni machine resurface the ice rink, which I’ve never seen before, by the way. The surface was pretty dull before the Zamboni team started. There were two kids in the seat, one young lady driving and the other young man pointing out spots she missed. They went around and around getting the thin layer of water on the whole rink while eager skaters waited to get out there. They rejuvenated the rink, got it shining like crystal and skaters spun, twirled, and had a great time. It was the Zamboni Effect.

After that, I got up and did my usual thing, looked at books in Barnes & Noble, got a bite to eat, wondered why the mall security guy was walking by the bench so often where I was sitting. After his third pass, I got up and did my best to look like a solid citizen who is aware that loitering might look sinister to some mall security guys.

And when I wandered back to the tables next to the ice rink, I sat down again because the mall security guy was nowhere in sight. While I was just zoning out watching people pass by, one of them stopped and made a funny face at me. For a half-second, he didn’t register in my memory and then he called me by name. I suddenly recognized him as a former resident in the Medical-Psychiatry training program at University of Iowa Health Care (UIHC). It was Ravneet, one of the best trainees I have ever had the pleasure to work with.

It was kind of a shock. He had left for a great position with a health care organization out in Arizona many years ago and is very successful. He and his wife and daughter were on vacation and were walking through the mall. His son is also a high-level performer in science but he was not with them today. Ravneet takes time out every so often to travel like that. I’m sure it helps rejuvenate him—kind of like how the Zamboni machine rejuvenates the ice rink–the Zamboni Effect.

We exchanged pleasantries, he took a selfie with me, and I forgot to ask him to send me a copy, probably because I was so flabbergasted at running into him at the mall. It really brightened my day. Again—the Zamboni Effect. I really felt rejuvenated.

Every now and then, we all need the Zamboni Effect. Maybe it could even help the mall security guy.