The Casual Blog

Managing through some bad news, including a climate change update

Bad news has been coming in fast this week.  I usually keep a fairly even keel and manage to look on the bright side.  But with hurricane Michael wreaking havoc, the stock market tumbling, democracy on the skids, and my glaucoma medication out of stock, just for starters, I’ve been jangled.  

It cheered me up when Sally brought home a new orchid, and I enjoyed taking some pictures of the pristine beauty in the early morning light.  I found the work absorbing.  In addition to visual imagination, it takes a bunch of equipment and software: a Nikon D850 (full frame), a Nikkor 105mm f/2.8 macro lens,  focus rails on a tripod, and a cable release. I sort and process the images in Adobe Lightroom, and tweak some of them with Photoshop and Helicon Focus. I consider the images here works in progress, but I like them, and thought they were worth sharing.    

I finally confessed to Sally that I’ve become obsessed with Natalie Dessay.  The short of it is I’m in love with a recording of the French soprano called simply Italian Opera Arias, with music by Bellini, Donizetti, and Verdi.  I recall listening to it some years back, when I was starting to explore bel canto opera, and thinking it was nice enough, but finding her voice a little on the light side.  

But for the last several months, I’ve been listening to Italian Opera Arias over and over, and amazed at her vocal facility, the intelligence of her interpretations, and the unique beauty of her voice.  Listening closely to the nuances of phrasing and tonal color, part of me is a student, looking to enrich my own musical vocabulary and insight But mostly it’s pure joy. The recording is available on Spotify, Amazon Music, and iTunes.  

I was glad to hear on the BBC’s morning newscast this week that they are planning to do more stories about climate change, since it’s a big problem, to put it mildly.  The climate report last week by the United Nations’ scientific panel was clear: we’re almost out of time.  Unless we act quickly, many of us alive today could see the start of the greatest disaster in the last 66 million years.  It’s a break-glass emergency. We need to move quickly, shifting from fossil fuels to renewable energy, instituting carbon taxes, mobilizing our research capabilities, and then looking at what else is possible. And to state the obvious, there’s good reason to doubt that our leaders and systems are up to such a task.  

The situation is truly terrifying, and it’s hard not to despair.  I found it helpful to talk to Jocelyn about this. She recommended 1. taking deep breaths, 2. compartmentalizing, and 3. not getting obsessed.  She pointed out that we might find a way out, but in any case we need to live our lives.

I appreciated her reminding me that there are sometimes unexpected solutions to big problems.  An example: at the beginning of the 20th century, it appeared that Manhattan would become uninhabitable because of the mountains of horse manure.  Many horses were needed for transportation in the densely populated city, and there was no known practical way of managing the piles of excrement. And then from nowhere came a new technology that took care of the horse manure problem:  the automobile.

So  there may be a new and unexpected technology just in time.  You never know what may come next.  But it’s foolish and beyond irresponsible to count on it. We need to use every social, political, economic, and technical capacity we have right now, right now.  

 

Working on gratitude, air conditioning (finally), my sweet tennis champion, improving sex education, and our nuclear nature park

At Harris Lake Park on Saturday morning

Recently I’ve been working on gratitude, and it hasn’t been easy.  I’ve gotten some leads from the Calm meditation app, which has a series of gratitude lessons by the wonderful Tamara Levitt.  Levitt approaches the subject from various angles, but the toughest, and most timely, is gratitude for difficulties.  She suggests looking at unhappiness as a teacher, and seeing what can be learned.

We finally got our new air conditioner installed and working three days ago, after weeks without AC.  Most of the windows in our apartment don’t open, and there are a lot of them facing south and west, so it got hot.  It was fairly miserable, but I’m proud to say we kept whining to a minimum, and made it through. Our AC technicians had a tough time installing the new unit — it took four days to get it fully operational — and I thank them.

Right after they got the AC operational, Sally went with her tennis team to the N.C. state tournament, so Rita (our cat) and I kept each other company.  Rita is a pretty calico cat who purrs a lot, but also complains a lot, and needs a lot of petting. She meows, rubs against my leg, and swats me over and over with her tail.  I like petting to a point, but that point is generally not quite enough for Rita.

We were both very happy to get Sally back this afternoon.  Her team is the new state 4.0 women’s champion! Sally has always been a focused and determined competitor, and she wins a lot at the local level, but this is her first state tournament victory.  She said there were a lot of good competitors and close matches. She was beaming.

Like all of us, my dearest Jocelyn followed the drama of the Kavanaugh confirmation process closely, and had some strong things to say about it.  I liked her proposal that we take this opportunity to consider and improve how we talk about sex. Sex is a fundamental driver of all human cultures (one thing Freud got right), but talking about it in America is highly taboo.  We don’t do much sex education in our schools, and if anything we do less in our homes. As briefly as possible, we warn our daughters and sons not to do it, cross our fingers, and hope for the best.

Jocelyn noted that our prevailing norm is that respectable girls should resist sex, while boys will continuously seek it.  This sets up a dangerous disconnect: boys expect that girls will resist, but think that resistance shouldn’t be taken too seriously.  Adding to the complex dynamics of social pressures and passing moods, in a given encounter neither player may be quite sure of their own true preferences.  Misunderstandings are rampant, and even with good intentions, traumatic mistakes happen. Jocelyn suggested a new rule: boys and girls agree that they will only have sex when they come to agreement that the objective is their mutual pleasure.  

I took these pictures yesterday at Harris Lake Park in southern Wake County.  The lake provides cooling water to the Shearon Harris nuclear plant. As I was heading down US 1 to get there, it started raining hard, but it stopped just before I got to the park.  The lake was peaceful. The cooling tower had a disturbing aspect, but that was mitigated by birds, grasses, bushes, and trees. There were a few people fishing from the shore and from a few boats, and me.  

The world’s most beautiful duck, a Chopin lesson, and some thoughts on Judge Kavanaugh and patriarchy

On Saturday morning, I went over to Duke Gardens to see what was blooming and buzzing.  There were some exotic large-leaved plants in the terrace garden. I brought along my camera, hoping to shoot some butterflies, but that didn’t work out.   

I did, however, find a Wood Duck.  At the pond, there was a crowd of more ordinary ducks hoping to get fed, and among them was this spectacular creature.  The Wood Duck’s name is completely misleading. It could more aptly be called the Heart Breakingly Beautiful Hallucinogenic Duck.  Its iridescent colors and varied patterns are vivid and thrilling.

These spectacular creatures are usually shy, and I’ve only seen them a couple of times in the distance.  This one must have gotten used to people who feed the ducks. Anyhow, he swam within five feet of me, and I felt honored.

I had a piano lesson with Olga in the afternoon, and played Chopin’s haunting Nocturne in F sharp minor.   Her main comment was that the playing seemed tasteful and musical, but that I needed 1. to get a better understanding of the underlying structure and 2. get a deeper connection to the emotional substance of the piece.  

After a few minutes of analysis, I saw what she was getting at regarding the structure.  The question of how the pianist can connect to the music at a deep emotional level was more complicated, and we talked about it at length.  One of her suggestions was to spend less time playing and more just thinking about the music. One of her techniques is to go over a piece as she’s going to sleep, and let her sleeping brain experiment.  

As I did errands this weekend, I listened to podcasts about the Kavanaugh hearing, and tried to figure out what I thought.  Until this week, I had a grudging respect for Judge Kavanaugh, based on his intelligence, hard work, and apparent integrity.  Now I’ve changed my mind about the integrity. Whether or not he truthfully has no recollection of assaulting Christine Blasey Ford, it is not believable that he is unfamiliar with the problem of getting so drunk you forget things.  

The confirmation process has brought political polarization to a whole new level, which is unfortunate, because it makes it hard to have a rational discussion.  But on the bright side, it has put the issues of our sexism and misogyny squarely on the discussion agenda.

During my lifetime, women in the U.S. have made enormous progress in terms of professional opportunities and personal freedoms.  But as the Republican senators on the judiciary committee have reminded us, parts of our system continue to be staunchly patriarchal and sexist.  Discrimination against women in the workplace is still common, including in hiring and pay. Sexual harassment and sexual violence are a reality, and for a woman to speak about sexual violence is still a risky undertaking.

For some of us, and especially for privileged white males, it takes some work to understand the reality of subordination of women in our society, since it is part of the fabric of our culture.  Like our racism, it’s just part of the air we breathe, and we usually don’t even think of it as a thing.

It’s revealing that a political acid test for being a “conservative,” and a critical issue for conservatives in supporting a new Supreme Court Justice, is  opposition to abortion. I’ve spent some time reflecting on the difficult moral issues around abortion, and I have no doubt that some conservatives have surely done likewise.  

But I’ve come to think that for most abortion opponents, the driver is not really protecting fetuses. Rather, it’s a symbolic issue.  It expresses membership in the conservative tribe. It’s part of the value system espousing the need to preserve “tradition,” which requires keeping women in “their place.”   The effort to make abortion illegal is an expression of the worldview of men as superior and women as inferior.

It’s a sort of lucky accident that Judge Kavanaugh’s nomination raises both the hard-to-spot aspect of this symbolism and the impossible-to-miss problem of sexual violence, since they are related.  I am not expecting that we’ll work these issues out in the next week or so. But I do expect that there will be a long conversation, and still hope that the arc of moral history will bend toward justice.  

Spinning hard, mental health, and getting inspired by a great violinist (Joshua Bell)

 

I’ve been finding it hard to get in a good gear recently at my weekly Friday morning spin class, but  yesterday I kicked butt and took names! My final score was a healthy 337, and I came in first by a good margin.  My recent scores have been a little over 300, and there have been several strong riders who have made that look quite unimpressive.  I appreciated their not showing up this week and letting me look good.

There was a report in the Wall Street Journal recently about the types of exercise that were best for mental health.   The best ones were team sports and group exercises, like cycling and yoga.   So spinning may be doing my brain some good. I’ve also been getting to yoga class a couple of times a week, which I’m confident is good for my head.  

Speaking of mental health, I finished up the introductory mindfulness meditation course provided by Calm, the smart phone app.    I found it worthwhile.  Mindfulness meditation is really simple, in a way, and it’s easy to find basic directions online.  But the Calm coaching gave me some new perspectives, and helped with motivation.

On Thursday, we had dinner at Capital Club 16, and then heard the N.C. Symphony play the Brahms violin concerto with violinist Joshua Bell.  Bell has been much hyped as perhaps our greatest living violin virtuoso, which is bound to raise questions.  But he completely lived up to the hype:  he was truly electrifying. I got big goosebumps and moist eyes, and also a richer understanding of this great concerto. He performed on a Stradivarius instrument that Brahms had heard play this very piece.  Bell’s cadenza, which he composed, was a brilliant distillation of Brahmsian thought.

Some great virtuosos are intimidating, and make music students think of quitting.  Bell, however, made me want to listen harder and be a better musician. Music in the classical tradition takes time and effort to enjoy, and it’s reasonable to wonder if it’s worth it in the modern world.  But Bell made a strong case for its survival. The Brahms is a supreme technical challenge for the violinist, but also dauntingly complex for inexperienced listeners. It was cheering that a concert hall full of North Carolinians seemed to get it and love it.  In fact, we gave Bell a good ovation after the first movement. In the U.S., we almost always wait until after the last movement to clap, but apparently we agreed that Bell deserved to have us break the rule.

I loved the little poem in last week’s Sunday Times magazine:  On a Line by Proust, by Adam Gianelli.  It you’ve never read Proust or Milton, it may not hit you quite as strongly, but it might inspire you to try them.  Like Proust, it evokes the painful joy of recovering past experience, and how our literary lives can illuminate our ordinary lives.  

I’ve been making my way through the NY Times special titled The Plot to Subvert an Election, by Scott Shane and Mark Mazetti.   It’s basically the story of Putin, Trump, and us.  It is hard to believe that this happened, and is happening, and easy to feel overwhelmed.  Shane and Mazetti have done some great reporting, which is worth reading.

I went to Raulston Arboretum this morning and found these butterflies.  There were a lot of beautiful creatures flitting beyond range of my camera.   I was grateful for these.

Dodging the hurricane, music therapy, and photo processing

A tiny lizard last week at Durant Park

Hurricane Florence got our full attention in Raleigh this week.  I usually take storm warnings with a large grain of salt, since there’s usually a lot of media hype in a feedback loop with people’s tendency to exaggerate certain kinds of danger.  But early projections showed a storm big enough to cover North Carolina with powerful winds and massive amounts of water, with the eye headed right towards here. We got extra food, charged our batteries, and filled the bathtub with water.  Sally’s sister Ann, who lives in Wilmington, heeded the official calls to evacuate, and came to stay with us.

The storm hit Wilmington hard, but then turned south and west, dumping record amounts of rain and causing widespread flooding.  In Raleigh, we got rain, but not in dramatic quantities. We had time to talk and do indoorsy things.

Like playing the piano — some Chopin, Liszt, Debussy, and Bartok.  Why I enjoy this isn’t so clear.  There’s close to zero chance that making music will improve my economic or social status.  And there are negatives — periods of social isolation, time lost for other things, and possibly annoying the neighbors.

Part of the answer was suggested in a podcast I heard a while back about music therapy, which was being used in hospices to help dying people.  Most days just by playing I give myself some music therapy, relieving stress and anxiety, finding comfort and peace. But at the same time it’s challenging and energizing. Also, at times there are new discoveries, leaps across space and time, engaging with great musical minds of times past.  

Lately I’ve also been learning to play by ear.  This was not a part of my early musical training, and with so much else to learn about the written language of music and technique, I just didn’t get around to it.  But it turns out to be fun. There are large quantities of children’s songs, hymns, and assorted pop tunes rattling around in my head, and it’s entertaining to try them in different keys and styles.  I’m looking forward to sharing the songs of my childhood with my future grandchildren.

Because of the rain this weekend, I did not get outside with my camera, but I spent some time looking at and refining recent images.  These last few weeks I’ve been getting help from D.A. Wagner, a/k/a The Lightroom Guy, in getting my digital photo files organized and improving my Lightroom and Photoshop processing skills.   My processing typically involves cropping and experimenting with small variations in exposure, tone, and color in different parts of the image.  D.A. recently gave me some helpful ways to approach spot removal and similar edits, some of which I used with these pictures.  

 

Getting overheated, and looking around New York

Our air conditioning was out again for several days, and it was a tough, with temperatures in the 90s.  Our first repair guy said our unit was dead, and proposed to sell us a new one he had in stock. We finally got a second AC guy out late this week for a second opinion, and he got it going in twenty minutes, and advised us we could either do a pricey repair or buy a new unit — for about $10,000 less.  We concluded with sadness that the first guy was a scam artist. He seemed really nice. But he may have figured we would get so hot and desperate that we’d go for his story — which we nearly did.

We escaped to New York  last weekend (Labor Day), where we stayed on the lower east side, a short walk from Jocelyn and Kyle’s place.  It’s a lively, funky neighborhood, with colorful graffiti. I got up early to walk along the East River, where there were good views of the bridges, and people fishing and doing exercises.  I also poked around Chinatown, Little Italy, and nearby areas. There were guys working hard unloading trucks full of carrots, potatoes, and onions.

I’d planned to look in the lower east side and Chelsea galleries, but most were closed for vacation.  I got the Guggenheim to see the Alberto Giacometti exhibit and One Hand Clapping, an exhibit of mostly Chinese artists.  At some point I’d formed the view that a little Giacometti went a long way, but I found more than I expected to think about in his work.  And I particularly liked the video work of Cao Fei about automation and artificial intelligence in Chinese factories. 

 I made a stop at the Neue Galerie to look at their collection of German Expressionism, and a joint exhibit of Gustav Klimt and Egon Shiele.   I also got over to the Whitney to see retrospective of the work of David Wajnarowicz.  

Jocelyn found us some fun bars and restaurants.  She also organized a brunch for us with Kyle and his mom, Debbie, and we really enjoyed getting to know her.  Joc also got us tickets to The Band’s Visit, a Broadway show about a small Israeli town that gets visited by mistake by a group of Egyptian musicians.  The musicians could really play! We liked the show.

Losing our air conditioning, and getting Gone With the Wind

Yates Mill Pond last Saturday, calm and warm

It was hot again this week, and our air conditioning failed again.  The AC repair person said the system was worn out and needed to be replaced, at a mind-boggling price.  Sally began work on getting another quote. Without thinking about it, we’ve gotten very used to AC, and it feels like a hardship not to have it. That’s privilege for you.  I wonder, would we be more motivated to address our warming climate if we weren’t insulated by AC?

We liked Spike Lee’s new movie, BlacKkKlansman.  It’s funny, in a way, and unsettling.  It shows us something about our society that is ultimately tough to look at.  

The movie starts with a famous scene from Gone With the Wind:  Scarlett at the train depot in Atlanta, looking for her man among the thousands of Confederate wounded and dead.  It’s a brilliant scene, with stunning photography. There’s no comment from Spike Lee about it, so you’re invited to think, why is he quoting it?  

When I first saw Gone With the Wind, my mom told it was the greatest movie ever made. This is a conventional view. It won several Oscars and was hugely successful financially. It’s romantic and exciting, and it has a great look. But since Spike Lee brought it up, I finally understood that it is deeply racist.

It is essentially about the importance and beauty of white supremacy.  The valiant struggles, both during the Civil War and afterwards, are for the purpose of subjugating black people.  Scarlett triumphs in the post-war period with a lumber business of re-enslaved black prisoners. Rhett and the men folk’s “political activities” are about KKK terrorizing of black people.

So my generation of white people (Boomers) learned that Gone With the Wind was a great movie, worth repeated viewings, and absorbed its message of the proper relations of whites and blacks.  This is how racism now works in America: we learn it without talking about it, or even consciously hearing about it. Like the air, it’s usually invisible, and white people hardly think about it as a thing.  White privilege seems natural.  Opposing this invisible (to white people) thing can seem odd, radical, or nutty.

One good thing about the Trump presidency is it is bringing racism and other ills out to where we can see them.  For all his ignorance, he understands the white fear of dark skin, and is brilliant at arousing, magnifying, and exploiting it.  It’s his gift, and the secret of his improbable political success.

We’re in the midst of an epic social psychology experiment. Like Stanley Milgram’s electric shock obedience experiment or Philip Zimbardo’s Stanford prison experiment, but so much bigger, Trump is testing the limits of power, “othering,” and ethics.  Some of what we’re learning in this experiment is discouraging.  There are a surprisingly large block of unapologetic hard-core racists.  But they are still a minority. Their vile hatred is inspiring a counterforce.  We’re reexamining themselves and this system.  We’re getting a new view of invisible racism, which is a step towards ending it.

Last week protesters just down the road in Chapel Hill pulled down “Silent Sam,” a Confederate memorial.  That’s progress.

Some butterflies, and bidding adieu to our local paper

I’ve been a big fan of newspapers since I was a kid with a paper route.  I’ve held it to be both valuable and pleasant to start each day with coffee and a printed newspaper.  And so it was with sadness that this month I dropped our subscription to our local paper, the News and Observer.  For several years, the paper has been wasting away, with less and less content, and when I got their last bill, I decided the value just wasn’t there any more.

I pay for both paper and electronic versions of the New York Times, and digital subscriptions to the Washington Post and Wall Street Journal.  I also get the Economist, the New Yorker, and the Atlantic, and check on a number of free web-based news sites. So losing the N&O will not put me into an over all information deficit.

But there’s no good substitute for local journalists with knowledge of state and local politics.  Press scrutiny has traditionally constrained the state legislature, but now not so much. In NC, the ruling party is re-engineering the political system, with little scrutiny or thoughtful criticism.  

As we’ve needed better journalism, it’s been frustrating to see the N&O doing less and less of it.  But I don’t really blame it.  The internet has sucked away advertising dollars. Local papers all over the country are losing advertisers, money, and subscribers, laying off staff, and closing.  The traditional local newspaper model isn’t working any more. It’s a big problem, not just for journalism, but for American democracy.

Anyhow, I feel sorry for the N&O.  I’d like to say thanks to those writers and editors, ad sales folks, press people, and deliverers who in years past made it a good local paper, and those today who are still doing what they can under difficult market conditions.  

Speaking of good journalism and market and policy failures, two weeks ago the NY Times magazine had a special issue with a single article:  Losing Earth: the Decade We Almost Stopped Climate Change, by Nathaniel Rich. l  It took me a while, but I read the whole thing, and I recommend going all the way to the last sentence.  

It’s basically the story of how in the 1980s a small group of scientists and activists recognized the relationship of CO2 and global warming.  They succeeded in starting a social and political movement that grew to worldwide dimensions. Then that movement was neutralized by hubris, political opportunism, and the oil and gas lobby.  And the serious damage wrought by humans on the natural world continued and worsened. It is not a cheerful story. But we’re still in it — the last chapter hasn’t been written — and we can still do something about it.  

The pictures here are ones I took this weekend at Raulston Arboretum.  It was hot, but the butterflies seemed to like it.

After the fire, a big picture, and climate change denialism

 

Bee at work in Raulston Arboretum

As usual, Gabe and I got out for some golf this weekend, and it was hot and humid.  We’ve both been getting some better, but there’s still plenty of disappointment and frustration.  My five and six foot putts would not go in the hole. As Gabe said, after an errant shot, “I hate golf.”  But it’s good to have some father and son time. And we are hitting more good shots than we used to, and every now and again a wonderful one.       

 

Speaking of burning up, this past week one of my photos was on the side of the Raleigh Convention Center:  a shot of the huge construction site fire of last March. A few weeks ago, I got an email from the fire and rescue association asking for my permission to use the shot, which I gave happily.  I assumed it was going to be one of many little pictures, rather than becoming a giant. They kindly included a prominent credit line in the lower right corner, even though I’d forgotten to ask for one. It may not be my best picture, but it’s the biggest.  

Watching the fire from our balcony, we were close enough to feel the heat, and we’ve had a ringside seat to the reconstruction.  It’s going to be an apartment building called the Metropolitan. Lately they’ve been putting in the outer layer and glass. It’s looking like it will be an attractive addition to the neighborhood.  

It saddened me to learn this week that a neighbor of ours is a climate change denialist.  He doesn’t think humans are responsible for rising temperatures and associated problems, and he doesn’t buy that the scientific consensus that says otherwise is reliable.  He is a well-educated, intelligent person, and in other regards quite sensible, decent, and kind. His rejection of reality on climate change came as a shock.

There’s been a lot of news about extreme weather recently:  massive wildfires in California, violent storms, deadly heat waves in Japan and Europe, droughts in the Middle East, famines in Africa, disappearing polar ice caps, Pacific islands swallowed by rising seas — and so on.  Not long ago, it seemed like climate disaster would be very bad, but not until the distant future. Now it’s here.

Bad ideas are not all equally concerning.  None of us is free of bias, and we all have our unfounded assumptions, fantasies, and delusions.  But climate change denialism is different from wacky conspiracy theories, groundless superstitions, or any number of wrong-but-usually-harmless ideas.  It has consequences.

Our failure to address climate change has already caused enormous destruction, and the window for our preventing catastrophe is closing rapidly.  Practically all of us in the first world are complicit in some degree, since we almost all use electricity, run internal combustion engines, and eat food that’s produced on factory farms.  Our carbon footprints are big, and to be oblivious to the harm we’re doing is bad. But it’s worse to take the position that we’re doing no harm, and that there’s nothing to worry about.

If my house is burning down, I might understand if my neighbor wouldn’t help me fight the fire.  There could be reasonable explanations. Perhaps she’s ill, or frightened. But if my neighbor is telling others that there’s not really a serious danger that needs addressing, that’s a problem.   

Although it is hard to understand climate change denialism, it is important to try, because there are some denialists who are our neighbors, and we’ve got to live together.  My working theory is that denialism is not the result of reasoning, good or bad, but rather a badge of belonging to a certain community. It signals that you belong to a certain political/cultural group.  It’s tribal.

Staying with the tribe is important.  When our ancient hunter-gatherer ancestors were hunting and gathering, they needed the tribe.  Without the tribe, all alone, you would die. It seems likely that our evolutionary success depended in part on brain wiring that made us stay with the group, and we’ve still got that wiring.  In any case, without some degree of conformity, social life, which humans cannot live without for long, would not be possible. So probably most of us are willing to go along with some dubious ideas to maintain the community.  

I heard an interesting podcast interview last week with Lilliana Mason, and immediately bought her book, Uncivil Agreement.  She’s a political science professor who has been working on understanding political polarization, and one of her ideas struck me powerfully.  Mason contends that our political opinions are essentially products of our political groups, rather than our own reasoning. That is, we don’t decide to become a Democrat, Republican, or Other based on our own political positions.  Instead, we learn what our positions are after we identify with a party. What generally determines our views there is a community, rather than reasoning.

Looked at this way, my neighbor’s denialism seems a little more understandable and forgivable, though still disturbing.  It’s unlikely that I or any single person could talk him out of his view. Still, we should keep talking. There’s always a possibility that view could change.  That’s happened with other widely accepted terrible ideas before, like slavery, whaling, child labor, and smoking. We can’t give up hope.

My first electric scooter ride

 

I took some close-ups of Sally’s new orchid on Saturday morning, and then went for my first electric scooter ride.  The little scooters arrived in Raleigh recently, and I’ve been thinking they might be a good solution for my commute, which is too short for a car, but not a pleasant walk when it’s hot and humid.  So I downloaded the Bird app, which indicated there was free machine two blocks from me.

I unlocked the scooter with my cell phone with no problem.  It didn’t do anything at first when I pushed the throttle, but I eventually figured out that you need to push off with a foot before the motor will engage.  I was a little wobbly for the first minute.  But I soon got the hang of it, and it wasn’t long before i was going full throttle (about 15 MPH).  

It was fun!  On my first ride, I scooted quietly through the Cameron Park and Oakwood, and the trees smelled wonderful.  I also went downtown and stopped near the Convention Center, where the Supercon convention had drawn a lot of young people in fantastic costumes.