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  Until Simpson's system, shoes, if they came in widths at all, were offered in only two sizes—fat and slim. Simpson's system for width was just as precise as his length designations, and they are still used today. For every additional width size, there is a one-quarter inch in circumference or girth added around the ball on the last. But the particular genius of Simpson's system was to automatically increase girth measurement as length size increased. For each full-length size, an additional one-quarter inch of circumference is added to the width (e.g., a man's 8D size will be one-half inch wider than a 7C; an 8B will be the same width as a 9A). Simpson's width system forced retailers to literally quadruple their inventory, so it wasn't until well into the twentieth century that most stores stocked shoes in all of these sizes. Even today, particularly with leisure and athletic shoes, manufacturers and retailers are reluctant to offer a full range of width sizes. Some shoe manufacturers issue widths in only three sizes, narrow, medium, and wide. There are no official boundaries for these sizes, but Rossi and Tennant indicate that in men's sizes, a narrow is between a B and a C, a medium between a C and a D, and a wide somewhere between a D and an E.

  Any shoe retailer who wants to stock all of the “normal” sizes would be obliged to carry nearly three hundred different combinations. This proliferation of sizes places the retailer in a classical marketing dilemma. The shoe seller can choose to stock fewer styles with the ability to fit more customers or to increase the range of choices but risk not being able to fit patrons with particularly long, short, fat, or thin feet. Still, by carrying only the fifteen most popular size combinations of shoes for both men and women, a salesperson can fit shoes for about two-thirds of the American public.

  The most popular sizes for women are 6 1/2AA-9AA and 5B-9B. The single most popular woman's shoe is the 7 1/2B, which represents almost 7 percent of all shoe sales. Almost one-half of all women take a B width, and less than 1 percent wear the extreme widths of AAAAA, E or EE. Less than 1 percent of all women wear sizes less than 4 or more than 11; 7 1/2 narrowly beats out 7 for favorite length; over three-quarters of all women wear sizes between 6 and 9.

  The 8 1/2 D and 9D are tied for the most popular male size, both with an 8 percent share of the market. The fifteen most popular sizes for men's shoes are 8C-10C and 6 1/2 D-11D. Over 60 percent of all men wear D widths, but the distribution of other widths is more spread out than women's, with B, C, and E all over 7 percent. Size 9 barely beats out 8 1/2 as the most popular men's length, as any bowling alley proprietor could tell you.

  Feet have gotten progressively larger over the last few centuries, and at an accelerated rate in this century. According to Rossi and Tennant, the average shoe size of soldiers in the Revolutionary War was 6C; in World War II, 8D; and in 1984, 9 1/2 D. The adolescent boy or girl of today is likely to wear shoes as large as those of the parent of the same sex and much larger than those of the grandparent.

  You will sometimes find shoes without the usual one- or two-digit size listed on the inner lining. These shoes probably utilize the “standard system,” which is nothing but a code for retailers to let them know what the exact size of the shoe is without letting the customer know. In the standard system three-digit code, the first number indicates width (1="A," 3="C)," the second number reveals the usual length size, and the third number confirms whether the length is a full size or half size (0="full" size, 5="half-size)." A 375 shoe would be a 7 1/2 C. Although use of the standard system has lessened, particularly with the advent of self-service shoe stores (where customers must be able to identify what size the shoes are), it still remains—a remnant of the time when shoe stores lied about what sizes they carried when they couldn't stock sufficient inventory.

  European shoes not made expressly for the American market generally use French sizing, which is based on the metric system. Each increment of length is two-thirds of a centimeter, approximately one-quarter of an inch; their smaller increment eliminates the need for half sizes. The French do not discriminate between children's and adults' sizes, however, so an American men's 9 would be a 43 in the French scale.

  Why don't footwear makers simply collaborate and standardize shoe sizes, so that a 9E in a Bally loafer will fit the same foot as a Nike training shoe? It's impossible. The style of the shoe makes a tremendous difference. Is it a high heel or a flat? Is it an oxford or a pump? Does the material of the shoe stretch? What shape is the last? All of these factors profoundly influence whether or not a shoe fits well.

  The notion that we can fit shoes merely on the basis of length and the width of the ball is clearly silly in the first place. Someone with an extremely high arch, for example, is going to have trouble with a fit in any ready-made shoe, unless the style of the shoe happens to compensate for the idiosyncrasy. Anytime the contours of a foot do not happen to correspond to the automatic width adjustments made for the average foot, a length and width size will only begin to indicate whether the shoe will be comfortable. A jeans manufacturer and a bra-maker have both based their national advertising campaigns on the notion that folks with the same size cannot necessarily wear the same garment: The principle with shoes is the same. The volume necessary to hold a fleshy foot is simply greater than that for a shoe designed for someone with bony feet.

  It's a losing fight. You might as well be resigned to a lifetime of trying on shoes. But buck up. You are now an educated consumer.

  Which fruits are in Juicy Fruit chewing gum?

  Imponderables paraded our wiles at the folks at the William Wrigley Jr. Company, but we weren't able to pry away from them the secret formula to Juicy Fruit gum. There are artificial as well as natural flavorings in Juicy Fruit, and Wrigley is understandably not enthusiastic about revealing their proportions, since no other manufacturer has hit on a marketable knock-off.

  Still, a representative from Wrigley's was kind enough to list the predominant fruit flavorings in Juicy Fruit. They are: lemon, orange, pineapple, and banana. Perhaps the banana is responsible for Juicy Fruit's inimitable richness.

  What is the difference between an Introduction, a Foreword, and a Preface of a book?

  These three terms have become virtually interchangeable. One can encounter all or none of these three features in any given book, and all or none of them might be written by the author.

  Traditionally, however, there has been a distinction between the introduction and the other two elements. While a preface or foreword usually tells the reader what to expect, the introduction typically starts the process of orienting the reader to the subject matter itself.

  In a preface or foreword, an author might explain what burst of inspiration ignited the masterpiece you are reading. He might talk about how this book should totally change your life as you know it and about how, although his book will make you a perfect person, he is not legally or morally responsible for that transformation. He will also wittily acknowledge all of the little people whom he trampled upon in order to purvey his deathless prose. In the introduction, the author dips into the actual subject matter, supplementing what is in the book and ensuring that the reader adopts the properly respectful attitude toward his material.

  Although most publishers observe the above distinction, they have varying policies about just how interchangeable the foreword and preface are. Some publishers arbitrarily title remarks by the author as the foreword and those by editors or outside endorsers as the preface. The esteemed publisher of this book labels the first prefatory passage, whether by the author or an outside source, as the foreword. If there is a second preliminary passage, it is deemed the preface. Thus, at William Morrow, you will never find a book with a preface that doesn't also contain a foreword. Nowhere has Imponderables found any legitimate distinction between the contents of a foreword and a preface.

  Publishers do concur on the order in which these three elements should be placed in a book. The copyeditor's bible, Words into Type, recommends that the preface be placed after the table of contents (and after the list of illustratio
ns, if there is one). If there are two prefaces, the editor's preface is placed before the author's. The foreword comes next. The introduction can be part of the text; if not, it comes after the foreword.

  How can amputees feel sensations in limbs that have been severed?

  Most amputees experience “phantom limb” sensations. Many patients report feelings as vivid and sensitive in the severed limb as the real counterpart. A patient, for example, with an arm amputated at the elbow might feel she could wave her hand, make a fist, or raise a finger. The phantom limb may feel hot, cold, wet, itchy, or painful. The most common report is that the amputee feels a mild tingling sensation or tightness in the phantom.

  In most cases, phantoms start when the patient regains consciousness after surgery, but the duration of phantom limbs varies dramatically. While some patients lose feeling in their phantom limbs in a matter of months, others never lose theirs, although in most cases phantom limb sensations become progressively less distinct over time.

  Sensations in the proximal parts (e.g., upper arm, thigh) tend to disappear first, with the extremities (fingers and toes) tending to linger. The amputee often perceives the (phantom) extremities moving closer to his or her stump.

  Phantom limbs can occur with other forms of amputation. Some women experience phantoms after mastectomy; plastic surgeons report an occasional phantom after removal of fat or even after “nose jobs.”

  There are both physical and psychological explanations for the phantom limb phenomenon, with very few practitioners doubting the importance of either factor. The best argument for the organic etiology of the phantom limb is that its existence is almost universal among amputees and that there is no evidence that sufferers of phantom limb have any different psychological profile than those who don't experience it.

  Most theories attribute phantoms to the sensory cerebral cortex. There is ample evidence for this supposition. The parts of the phantom most vividly felt by amputees are the digits of the hands and feet (particularly the big toe and thumb), the areas with the most representation in the cerebral cortex. The proximal areas of phantom limbs, such as thighs and upper arms, with the least representation in the cerebral cortex, not only evoke the least feeling in the amputee, but tend to have their symptoms disappear first.

  One approach, the “peripheral theory,” ascribes phantom limb sensation to irritants in the nerves of the stump. The “central theory” assumes that neighboring cortical areas stimulate the part of the brain, the sensory homunculus of the cerebral cortex, that once affected the phantom limb. Physicians agree that the brain can send physical sensations to the stump: Phantom limb sufferers are not imagining these sensations.

  Psychological theories about phantom limbs tend to acknowledge the organic origins of the phenomenon, but they stress that amputation is a traumatic event for most individuals and that most patients are forced to redefine their self-concept after surgery. Many amputees, after surgery, feel that they are less than a whole person and feel anger and shame about their stump. Psychiatrist Thomas Szasz stresses the individual's need to preserve the “integrity of body image” and sees the phantom limb as both a form of denial and a means of recognizing the transition that must be faced by the recent amputee. The sensations are a way to focus attention upon the loss, but also to deny it (“If I feel it, it can't be missing”).

  Although the mere appearance of the phantom limb does not indicate any psychopathology, most psychologists feel that painful phantom limbs, not uncommon, tend to be a symptom of depression. Painful stumps are often symbols of anger, as well as grief, directed inwardly. Several psychologists have had much success healing painful phantom limbs by treating the patient as if he were “simply” a depressive.

  Biofeedback has also worked in some settings, perhaps corroborating Szasz's theory that recovering patients need to focus on the stump in order to relieve anxieties about their self-image. Another clue to the supposition that problem phantoms might have at least a partly psychological base is the observation that many amputees forget about their phantoms for long periods of time but are immediately able to feel them when prompted by another person.

  Why can't you ever buy fresh sardines in a fish market?

  You are old enough. You deserve to know the shocking truth. There is no such fish as the sardine. The term sardine is actually a generic name for quite a number of different small fish. A fish doesn't become a sardine until it has been canned.

  Different species are classified as sardines in various parts of the world. An international standard for canned sardines was developed by the Codex Alimentarius Commission. For practical purposes, the commission let every country establish its own definition of what constitutes a sardine and listed twenty-one different species as possible sardines. In Norway, sprats and immature herring are used for sardines; in South America, anchoveta is popular; in France and Portugal, young pilchards are the sardines of choice. The Codex standard was necessary, in part, because of squabbling among sardine producers. France and Portugal, in particular, maintained that sardines were not a generic product and that the sardine was a proprietary name reserved exclusively for the Sardinia pilchardus, the particular pilchard most popular in their countries.

  The Bureau of Fisheries' position was that any fish in the clupeid family (small herring, brisling, sprats, and pilchards) may be packed and sold as sardines in the U.S. Anchovies may not be called sardines.

  Sardines became popular in the United States after World War I, and this inexpensive lunch or snack was a sensation in the Depression era. But by the mid-1940s, sardine sales slipped and they've never regained their peak of popularity: At one time, the California sardine (the pilchard) was the largest fish crop in the country. The United States sardine industry has always been based in California and in Maine, which uses immature herring for sardines.

  Since sardines are a cheap fish (indeed, before sardines caught on as a consumer item, they were used for fish meal), the main priority of the sardine industry is to catch a heck of a lot of fish and process them quickly. Let's look at the sordid death of a California sardine.

  Sardines are caught in purse seines, huge nets with floats along the top edge and weights at the bottom. The seines are up to 2000 feet long, made of nylon and other rot-proof artificial fibers, and are often cast off of vessels 1000 feet long. Since the California sardine is phosphorescent, most fishing is done at night so that the sardines can be located by their movements near the surface of the water.

  Once the sardines are brought to shore, the processing is almost entirely mechanized. Machines cut off the sardines' heads and tails in order to make them a uniform size. A vacuum then removes their viscera by suction. Another machine then automatically fills each can with sardines. At one time, the sardine industry loved to torture the consumer with soldered cans that could only be opened with an infernal key that seemed to be designed to open up wounds on the fingers rather than the can itself. Some of the imported sardines from Portugal, France, and Spain still come in soldered cans, but most other countries provide drawn cans that can be opened with a can opener. Many domestic sardines now come in “easy-open ring-pull cans,” which actually are easy to open.

  But the sardines' torture has just begun. After the can is filled, it is injected with live steam and heated up to a temperature that will expel trapped air in the can and coagulate and shrink fish protein. The purpose of this process is to eliminate much of the natural juice from the fish. By the time the can leaves this “exhaust box,” it is approximately 150 degrees.

  As the sardine continues along the assembly line, the can is tilted to remove the bodily fluids. At this point, seasonings are added (oils, brines, and sauces). Without these oils, sardines, unlike tuna, would not be palatable to most people.

  The can is then sent to the automatic seaming machine for sealing. After the seaming machine, the can moves through a mechanical washer, which eliminates any pieces of fish or remnants of liquid that may cling to the exterior of
the can. The can is then moved to a sterilizer.

  The trimmings of the fish are not thrown away but are used for fish meal, fish oil, and condensed fish solubles. None of these products will ever reach a retail fish store, however. Although they are probably called sardines because the scientific name of some of the species includes the word Sardinia, sardinops, or sardinella, sardines have always been, at least in North America, a marketing concept rather than a particular fish. If it weren't for the can and the preservative capabilities of oil and salt, chances are most of us would never have heard of the sardine.

  Why do we cry at happy endings?

  Eureka! There is actually a conclusion upon which psychologists agree: There is no such thing as “tears of happiness.” We cry not because we are happy but because unpleasant feelings are stirred up at the occasion of a happy ending.

  Most adults are capable of repressing the urge to cry, but not without an exertion of psychic energy. When a happy ending indicates that our grief is no longer merited, the energy used to inhibit our tears is now discharged, sometimes in the form of laughter, but more often in an expression of the repressed sadness—tears.