Might As Well Face It

I’ve figured out why fools fall in love. They’re just searching for a fix. That’s according to this article in The New York Times:

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/05/31/health/psychology/31love.html

For the first time, neuroscientists have mapped the brain activity of people newly in love, and it turns out that new love resembles hunger, thirst, and…drug addiction.

The article quotes a Rutgers anthropologist who states, “’When you're in the throes of this romantic love it's overwhelming, you're out of control, you're irrational, you're going to the gym at 6 a.m. every day -- why? Because she’s there.’”

In the immortal words of Robert Palmer, “The lights are on, but you’re not home.”

A SUNY study analyzed 2,500 brain images from 17 college students who had recently fallen in love. These subjects gazed at pictures of their boyfriends or girlfriends while an MRI machine scanned their brains. The images were later compared with images taken when subjects looked at photos of acquaintances.

The “love-charged” brains showed increased activity in areas containing dopamine-producing cells. Dopamine is the chemical released by cocaine use.

Addicted to love? Absolutely.

Which is more satisfying -- coke or love? Love has a longer buzz, but its high also fades. Another study compared the brains of “new lovers” with those of couples who’d been together for two years.

As the article says, “Compared with the students who were in the first weeks of a new love, those who had been paired off for a year or more showed significantly more activity in an area of the brain linked to long-term commitment.”

Kind of deflates the “why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?” argument. Sooner or later, you won’t want the milk for free. You’ll feel a biological need to buy the cow.

Why am I interested in this? Because since I returned from New Orleans, I’ve suffered a mad craving for love. N.O. is full of romantic scenarios just waiting to be played out. Strolling hand-in-hand by Lake Pontchartrain. Hitching a horse and buggy ride through the French Quarter. Dining by candlelight at Commander’s Palace. Swapping study notes on the campus green.

My brain cells are ready to produce the dopamine, but it takes two to neuro-stimulate.


I didn’t fall in love tonight, but I did break a board. In order to gain my orange belt in Tang Soo Do, I have to snap a plastic board in half. It’s not quite as dramatic as Ralph Macchio in Karate Kid -- the board is made of two pieces, designed to break upon the right impact. After about 15 tries, I fired an on-target side kick. KRAAACK. Instant #1 on my list of Top Ten Most Satisfying Sounds (#2 being plane wheels touching down in TN; #3 Queen‘s guitar riff on “Bohemian Rhapsody”).

I also broke the board with my elbow, though I misfired painfully more than once.

Didn’t Freud write about the thin line between passion and aggression? My brain liked hitting that board. I can’t prove it with an MRI, but I know. It was love at first kick.

So, maybe board-breaking will be my gateway drug. Until the real thing comes along.