Dang, with what feels like another (?) sinus infection coming up and the jaw/cheek/molar discomfort associated with it, I nearly went bonkers at work today when they were replacing the weather-stripping on the firedoor right outside my office. The drill had me clutching my cheek like some hypochondriac. It was pathetic. So I took a walk to get some coffee and chocolate. That made everything better. Which might also be pathetic.
Also, my hands smell like ballpoint pen ink. WTF?
Due to the suspicion that my sinus infection is coming back, being tired and sore and generally feeling like crap, I took the bus to work this morning. It was definitely not the incoming rain. I like riding to work in the rain. I feel as if I should feel like a sell-out for wussing out. But I don’t exactly answer to anyone else about how I get to work. And wussing out of cycling for the first time in over a month for me means taking the bus, not driving some gas-guzzling land yacht or lounging on the backs of servants or something. I have to admit that I have been dying to take some kind of transit since the transit summit the other night. But now my pocketful of dimes is half empty.
For those in Baltimore who are interested in transit oriented development like this here guy is:
The second Baltimore Regional Transportation Oriented Development Summit will take place at the University of Baltimore on Tuesday, Feb. 24 from 7 to 9 p.m. Free and open to the public, this gathering will feature public and private sector representatives discussing new initiatives, advances in local transportation oriented development planning and the emerging national agenda to promote smart investment in infrastructure and innovation. The event will take place in the M. Scot Kaufman Auditorium in the William H. Thumel Sr. Business Center (home of the Merrick School of Business), 11 W. Mt. Royal Ave.
More info. I’ll be there.
Last weekend, in Philly, we went bookstore hunting, among other things. I had written down a lot of stores and addresses. We only actually went to two of them: Book Trader in Olde City, where I went in August when I was there for a week; and House of Our Own, an independent shop in West Philly.
House of Our Own had a second floor full of used books. Within two minutes of getting there, I had an arm full of Michael Chabon and was mourning having to leave behind Hemingway’s works on bullfighting. I’ve seldom been to such an organized bookstore, and the lady working there was incredibly nice. They had sections for everything: American Radicalism, Economics, Ecology, Eco-Economics, Peace Studies, Nonviolence, Gandhi (!), Community Organizing, etc.
Our train was leaving shortly, and we had a long walk to get there. So I didn’t get to check out the first floor or hang out in the reading nook. They put bookmarks in the books for you, which is one of my favorite things. I buy a lot of books when I travel, and it’s nice to remember where I got them.
While I refuse to wear special cycling clothes, I do have to watch the weather when I have a four-mile-outside trip to work. Yesterday, I busted my ass to get to work before the snow and rain started because I didn’t feel like bringing extra clothes with me. I just made it. I literally got into my office, turned on my computer, turned around to look out the window and saw snow. Today, I got in just before the sun came out and starting drying shit off. Same thing, but sun when I looked out the window after a wet ride to work. What a balanced Universe!
If you ever go to “public safety” type meetings, you know that the rash of car break-ins in Baltimore is nothing new but something the media suddenly feels like talking about now instead of far more depressing things they could report. My wife asked why people are stupid enough to leave their gadgets out tonight.
For the same reason they probably bought them! To show them off! I mean, what good is a GPS if you can’t brag, right? I am aware some people actually use them. Some people. (I’d put one on my bike if someone bought me one, hint hint.) I would assume that any reasonably intelligent person who uses and values a device like that wouldn’t leave it on the damned car seat, especially after dozens of warnings not to do so.
I refuse to feel sorry for a lot of these people. If your finances are such that a new car window is going to send you broke, maybe you shouldn’t have bought that fucking Tom Tom bling.
Old City Coffee is the freakin bees’ knees. I had coffee from their shop in Old[e] City when I was in Philly this past August for a week-long training on how to be a good VISTA. I remember delicious coffee, a cute logo and fantastic cookies. Unfortunately, due to limited seating and my desire to get out of my hotel each morning for breakfast, I didn’t really get to eat breakfast and/or chill there in August. I won’t say which chain coffee place I did eat breakfast at more regularly during that trip. But they did have ample seating, even on the sidewalk.
This weekend, we hit the Reading Terminal Market (at the recommendation of the dude who makes the best bike shirts ever) and scored coffee from the cart. It was delicious and definitely what Mr. Brainpan ordered after waking up at 2:30 am. We got to relax at a tiny table and enjoy the coffee, saving a sugar packet with the logo for gluing into our travel journal. The line increased soon, as we got there at the opening on the market. The larger Old City Coffee stall had an enormous line that stretched a good two dozen deep by the time we left the market. They must have a good following.
There were tons of Starbucks joints and Dunkin Donuts palaces. For being as tired as we were, we didn’t really drink that much coffee on our trip. Which probably explains — at least in part — how I dozed off on the short train ride back to Baltimore long enough and deeply enough that Mrs. P had the time to be tempted to take a picture of me passed out on Amtrak, to pull out her camera, to take the picture and to put it away, repressing what I assume was massive giggling. But, the joke’s on her. The picture came out blurrily. (Maybe she should have had more coffee.)
[Photo Friday: Morning Routine.]
It’s alarming that peanut butter commercials have gone from boasting about how much a brand tastes like peanut butter, which one moms choose and which your grandfather would make you a sandwich with to assuring you that their brand is safe to eat and won’t make you sick. Wow.
I’m off on a 6am train for Philly today. We’re spending the day in the city of brotherly love, going book shopping and drinking a lot of coffee. Between being excited and my neighbor’s early Valentine’s Day…banging around under my bedroom, I’ve been up since 2:30.
Happy V Day, if you’re the sort to like that.
(Yes, that’s a Moleskine City Notebook for Philly.)
They are checking Obama’s facts. I commented to Mrs. P this morning that I don’t remember anyone fact-checking Dubbya after his speeches. But, you know, I don’t think anyone could have it finished in the morning for publication.
This is my morning chuckle for the day.
I finally got around to watching An Inconvenient Truth last night. I was wondering what took me so long to get around to it, and I think it’s because of my own know-it-all-ism. As much as I fight it, I’ve become very eco-self-righteous. From the stash of cans stacked in protest in my office because my workplace doesn’t recycle to my lack of car, I walk around like I’m more…consistent than other people.
I know; this is bullshit. But when I hear someone who flaunts how anal they are about recycling (“I can’t believe UB doesn’t recycle cans!”) and how their $200 totebag is made of recycled cat turds (and fair trade, too!) and when this person drives a fucking car to and from the suburbs (really the burbs of the burbs), I want to hold them down and lecture them about my own awesomeness. “No one gives a shit what your fucking purse is made of when you transport it in an SUV!” Etc.
Which is ridiculous, stupid and mean. I have eco-sins that I know about and live with, from my obsession with imported PVC-covered notebooks and plastic pens to my affection for imported beer and nylon sandals. I justify them to myself because having no car and eating no meat and living in a small space transcends a lot of people’s efforts. It makes me feel special and important and powerful and like people who make small efforts where I make huge sacrifices are wasting their time and self-esteem when they should be selling their cars, learning about bike repair and going vegetarian.
This kind of asshatery and assholery is something I really do make an effort to curb. I really do. It doesn’t do anyone any good for environmentalists to insult people’s efforts, when the truth is really that every little bit does in fact help.
Nonetheless, we’d all do well to remember that our little efforts are often outdone by the ways we have our heads up our own asses and the larger sacrifices we are unwilling (often referred to as “unable”) to make. I can’t help but feel like a lot of people would in fact rather live in a hotter world with coastal land underwater and wars raging over scarce natural resources than to live in smaller houses and stop driving cars everywhere. If that’s not true, then people:
1) Don’t really make the connection between their actions and concerns and a global crisis, in which case this kind of blindness really crosses the border into intentional ignorance, which in turn at this scale becomes a mild form of stupidity.
2) Don’t believe that the climate crisis is real or caused by us, in which case these people should stop drinking clean water, taking medicine and wearing seatbelts. Because good science obviously is lost on people who don’t want to deal with something that might change their lazy and selfish habits. Back to the Stone Age with them.
3) Can’t grasp that doing things like going car-free or living in a smaller place or closer to work is something in all of our control. If one inherits a house that’s 100 miles from his job, this person is not stuck. You can always move or change jobs. Move to the city. Get a job near your house. Take a folding bike and transit. Such a person values their own home/job/lifestyle over efforts to save the fucking planet.
That’s the point. We can’t just buy recycled and hybrid versions of all the shit we already buy. This is going to take imagination and effort.
“I wish I could just ride a bike everywhere like you,” people tell me a lot. I’m too “nice” in person to ask, “Then why don’t you?” People who are able to live car-free can do so because they make choices around this lifestyle. I live close to everywhere I want or need to be. I don’t generally do things that require me to carry more than I can fit on my bike rack. It’s not really hard, and it’s often more fun than driving. I’ve said before that I am largely a big kid who likes to have as much fun as possible, which cycling is for me — even in winter and when I’m tired.
Now I am getting self-righteous. But it’s not me that I think is righteous, just putting one’s efforts and lifestyle where one’s mouth is, which I happen to buy into and try to do as much as I can. But I know I suck at it. Hard. I buy all kinds of shit I don’t need, hoard pens and forget my travel mug often. In true Thoreauvian spirit, however, I know that there is no environmental failure as bad as my own.
Please don’t send me hatemail about my choice of notebooks and my insistence that none of us sacrifices enough. If you were so awesome as to sacrifice that much, I would think you’ve transcended assshole blog comments, too.
Now I sound like Jesus.
Things on my face froze this morning on my downhill plunge to Central Baltimore on two wheels. Read more.
I have always been both fascinated by and obsessed with drinks. Not alcoholic ones, mind you. Beverages. When I was a kid, I was always always thirsty. I needed juice or soda or milk constantly. I realize now that it was because I could literally not stand to drink water until I was 20 years old and was probably mildly dehydrated all the time. I think I’ve mentioned that I’m 29 and have been drinking coffee consistently for about 21 years, daily for 20. I’m American, so you know I’ve had my share of Coke. Etc.
So I began reading A History of the World in Six Glasses last night, and I am enjoying it immensely. I was tempted to consume the beverage in question while reading the six parts. Still am. But I read for my lunchtime whenever I can, and I can’t very well get tanked at work. (That only happens when I need to talk to someone and have to track them down at a community happy hour and — poor me — have to drink beer in the afternoon……..trying to think of who I can track down this week……..) Perhaps after the third part, when the drinks under examination are coffee, tea and Coke, I can indulge.
Holy shit, now all football fans are suspects:
Authorities at Super Bowl XLIII will be looking for more than just drunken fans. They’ll be watching spectators’ body language, facial expressions and demeanor to find suspicious people.
For the first time Sunday, federal behavior-detection officers will team with local police to use a controversial technique on people heading to a major event, the Transportation Security Administration (TSA) says. The officers usually work in airports.
Behavior observation aims to find people in crowds acting unusually. A flagged person gets a casual interview from an officer who determines if he or she should be formally questioned or arrested.
How the hell are you supposed to tell when someone’s mad that Big Ben got sacked and when the bomb strapped under their puffy coat is itching them? The ACLU thinks that
TSA should stay in the airports and let stadium security and local police do their job and monitor the crowd as they always have. Real life is not like a spy thriller where operatives with amazing intuitions are always able to magically pick out the people with something to hide. This is likely to slide into a thinly veiled version of racial profiling. (emphasis added)
I mean, I’m all for safety and what-not. Who isn’t? This isn’t safety, though. In the real world — where security resources are always limited — wasting time, money and energy on things that probably won’t work makes little sense. One could argue that this year’s game is the testing ground for this invasive new “method”. That’s even less sensible. Assuming that someone’s gonna try and bomb the Superbowl, I’d prefer to see a tested method, rather than this bullshit.
What’s going to happen next year, they’ll watch everyone at home to see how they react to the game or their wired cooler of Pabst*?
Read more (via Blog of Rights).
[*I'm not knocking Pabst. I love Pabst, seriously.]