bright: it's an amazingly beautiful day here, with fantastic sunlight. I walked from downtown to the library, drinking in the views that I'll only be around for another month.
slow: The speed of this library computer is astonishingly slow. It reminds me of the days when A and I used modems as slow as 300 baud, and when 14.4 felt like traveling at the speed of light. Oh, and we had to walk uphill both ways, in the snow, no shoes, and it was 124 degrees.
relief: We're closing on the house in a couple hours. I can't wait.
adventure: I'm seriously considering riding my motorcycle down the Alaska Highway, through Canada, and probably from there down to Sacramento. Details to be worked out.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Belgium = vegetarian friendly!
How friggin' great is this?
Ghent declares every Thursday 'Veggie day'
In other news, Atlanta was lovely, and it looks like we have a place to live, though as in all things real estate, the devil remains in the details.
On the food theme, we're both extremely excited about the food in Atlanta: we had half a dozen fantastic meals, and zero bad meals. To top it all off, there's a beer bar with an outstanding and expansive tap list in the ground floor of the building we're looking to move into.
Ghent declares every Thursday 'Veggie day'
In other news, Atlanta was lovely, and it looks like we have a place to live, though as in all things real estate, the devil remains in the details.
On the food theme, we're both extremely excited about the food in Atlanta: we had half a dozen fantastic meals, and zero bad meals. To top it all off, there's a beer bar with an outstanding and expansive tap list in the ground floor of the building we're looking to move into.
Friday, May 08, 2009
A bike ride, a condo, a volcano!
1. A bike ride. I've been trying to plan one from NYC (the south Bronx, specifically) to the north Jersey coast for M & E's wedding union in August (yay! super exciting!) T has a bike I can borrow, and I've been poring over online maps. Long and short story: if I did the entire ride, it might well amount to the least pleasant bike ride in the history of bike riding.
(Okay, there have been some dodgy -20 days of biking in Alaska, too, but you know what I mean.)
A brief summary of what the ride would entail before it gets pleasant in southern Middlesex County and Monmouth County: the GW bridge, Fort Lee, Jersey City, Newark (including a highly unpleasant skirting of EWR, in the shadow of the Jersey Turnpike), Elizabeth, Linden, and Perth Amboy. There are other options, but they involve much, much more riding, as they require getting east of Newark, and I really want to be able to do this ride in one day, arriving for the 5pm event.
All this because there is NO BICYCLE OR PEDESTRIAN ACCESS for either of the bridges from Staten Island to New Jersey. (Side-rant: why are a third of American adults, and 16% of American children obese, we wonder? Why are 66% of Americans adults overweight???)
I could do almost all pleasant riding if I could just ride over the Outerbridge Crossing from Staten Island to Perth Amboy, NJ, and ride from there. I found one account of a guy who ignored the no-bikes rule, in 1997, on the Goethals Bridge, but he wisely did so in the middle of the night. He writes: "I decided to sneak across the Goethals Bridge under cover of the night." Unfortunately, I really really don't want to start from the south Bronx at 2am in order to be able to accomplish same, and couldn't get a Staten Island ferry that early anyway.
So I'm strongly considering taking the NJ Transit train for the first half of it, to Elizabeth or so, and riding from there. I bet I'll be in a lot better shape for the festivities that way.
2. A condo. What J and I fly out tonight to go look for in Atlanta over a very long weekend. We're focusing on Midtown, and are both excited to get into something smaller, with a better carbon footprint, and where we actually want to go walk in the neighborhood. Those of you who have been to our place in Anchorage know how less-than-pleasant it is to walk from our house, at least the first 1/2 mile or so.
3. A volcano. To wit, Mt. Redoubt, which might keep us from making the above-referenced trip. Or not.
(Okay, there have been some dodgy -20 days of biking in Alaska, too, but you know what I mean.)
A brief summary of what the ride would entail before it gets pleasant in southern Middlesex County and Monmouth County: the GW bridge, Fort Lee, Jersey City, Newark (including a highly unpleasant skirting of EWR, in the shadow of the Jersey Turnpike), Elizabeth, Linden, and Perth Amboy. There are other options, but they involve much, much more riding, as they require getting east of Newark, and I really want to be able to do this ride in one day, arriving for the 5pm event.
All this because there is NO BICYCLE OR PEDESTRIAN ACCESS for either of the bridges from Staten Island to New Jersey. (Side-rant: why are a third of American adults, and 16% of American children obese, we wonder? Why are 66% of Americans adults overweight???)
I could do almost all pleasant riding if I could just ride over the Outerbridge Crossing from Staten Island to Perth Amboy, NJ, and ride from there. I found one account of a guy who ignored the no-bikes rule, in 1997, on the Goethals Bridge, but he wisely did so in the middle of the night. He writes: "I decided to sneak across the Goethals Bridge under cover of the night." Unfortunately, I really really don't want to start from the south Bronx at 2am in order to be able to accomplish same, and couldn't get a Staten Island ferry that early anyway.
So I'm strongly considering taking the NJ Transit train for the first half of it, to Elizabeth or so, and riding from there. I bet I'll be in a lot better shape for the festivities that way.
2. A condo. What J and I fly out tonight to go look for in Atlanta over a very long weekend. We're focusing on Midtown, and are both excited to get into something smaller, with a better carbon footprint, and where we actually want to go walk in the neighborhood. Those of you who have been to our place in Anchorage know how less-than-pleasant it is to walk from our house, at least the first 1/2 mile or so.
3. A volcano. To wit, Mt. Redoubt, which might keep us from making the above-referenced trip. Or not.
Monday, May 04, 2009
How to walk out of JFK for fun and profit
There are many questions about it online, but few clear answers: how do I get out of JFK using public transit without getting screwed for $5 to go approximately one mile on the Airtrain, that used to be free? Here are detailed directions for how to get to the New York City subway system from JFK airport without paying the Airtrain that outrageous $5 fee.
Background: until about 2003 or 2004, there was a free shuttle from JFK to the Howard Beach station, on the A train of the New York City subway system. Then they put in the supposedly more convenient Airtrain, and started charging $5 for the formerly free system (not including standard subway fare, currently $2.00, and very soon to be $2.50.) Well, you can take the Airtrain to within about 200 yards of the Howard Beach station (Station A of the Airtrain), but unless you want to jump over barb wire fences and walk across the dreaded 600+ volt third rail, you can't actually get there from there.
GOOD NEWS! You can easily (and legally) walk from Station B of the Airtrain, which is the Long Term Parking / Kiss 'N Fly / Lefferts Blvd station, with about a 15 minute walk to the Aqueduct / North Conduit Ave station on the A train, which is the first stop north of the Howard Beach/JFK station. Here's how:
OPTION 1, EASY with SIDEWALKS, APPROX 20 MINUTES WALKING:
Get on the Airtrain from any JFK terminal. If you fly Delta, like I often do, you'll likely be getting on from Terminal 2 or Terminal 3. Make sure you take the Howard Beach-bound train, *not* the Jamaica-bound train. The LED signs and audible announcements often aren't particularly helpful: ask one of the (usually nice, usually helpful, usually omnipresent) staff wearing the Airtrain/information blazers. I think the blazers are maroon; they're usually looking around for people who look lost or confused. DO NOT ask any other apparent airport employees: they are usually WAY less than helpful. They don't seem to know how to get anywhere other than their individual destinations/homes.
GET OFF THE TRAIN at Long Term Parking, which is Station B, also sometimes referred to as Lefferts Boulevard, and/or Kiss 'N Fly (use your imagination.) It's the last free stop before the Howard Beach/JFK stop for the subway. If you miss it, just stay on the Airtrain: it'll soon turn around and go back toward the airport, and the first stop on the return will be yours.
When you get off the Airtrain, you can orient yourself by looking out the windows. On the south (wrong) side, you'll see a whole bunch of parking. On the north (correct) side, you'll see a bunch of parking, and what looks like about two or three freeways all running parallel behind it. (In case you care, it's the 878/Nassau Expressway, 17N/Belt Parkway/Southern Pkwy, and you might see South Conduit Ave/Route 27, which basically looks like a freeway.) You're looking north if you see the freeways. The subway station you want, Aqueduct/North Conduit, is northwest of you, but you can't see it from here. If you look to your right, which is east (toward the airport/direction you came from) you'll see a street, which is Lefferts Blvd. This is important.
Okay. Look for the escalators going down to exit the station. When you go down the escalator, turn left (north) and walk out the sliding doors, turn right, and walk about 50 feet to Lefferts Blvd. You'll see busstops. Do not cross the street. Turn left and walk north up Lefferts Blvd. You'll be walking along the parking lot chain-link fence with razor wire on top.
TWO CHOICES PRESENT THEMSELVES: first left on Aqueduct Road is the more direct, scenic route, but the sidewalks suck or are non-existent: this is MORE DIRECT/AQUEDUCT, below. The other choice is to keep walking on Lefferts Blvd to North Conduit Blvd, which is INDIRECT/SIDEWALKS below.
INDIRECT/SIDEWALKS
Approximate walking: 15-25 minutes to subway.
Walk along Lefferts, cross the street at Aqueduct Road, and start walking over those various freeways mentioned above. In about five minutes of walking, you'll come to the first road after the freeways, which is North Conduit Avenue. Cross the street to the north side of North Conduit and turn left onto it. Walk along the sidewalk for about another fifteen minutes. You'll pass some soccer fields on the south side of the street, and some residential neighborhoods on your right, then you'll pass the parking lots for the Aqueduct Racktrack. You might see the overhead subway trains chugging along to the west (the direction you're walking.)
Just after the racetrack parking lots, you'll walk under an overpass, which is the subway tracks.
Take a hard right through the doors into the subway station, buy your Metrocard if necessary. Ignore the somewhat incredulous looks of the station agent that you're standing there with luggage and just beat the system. Presumably, take the Manhattan-bound train via the stairway to your right (unless you want to go to Coney Island.) Congratulate yourself on saving $5.
MORE DIRECT/AQUEDUCT
Approximate walking: 10-15 minutes to subway.
Follow the instructions above from the airport, exit the same station, and orient yourself similarly. When you start walking up Lefferts Blvd, you'll take the first left after the parking lot, onto Aqueduct Road. Don't cross over any freeways. Also don't cross the street; there's zero sidewalk on the north side of Aqueduct Rd.
Walk along the annoyingly sloped sidewalk, along the chain-link, razor-wire fence of the long-term parking lot. (You'll pass a car entry to the parking lot, which you could use as a shortcut if you're so inclined.) Toward the end of the parking lot, Aqueduct will curve gently to the left, then curve sharply to the right (heading north.) It's now running parallel with the subway tracks, which you can look through the brambles and up the slope and see trains occasionally running along. If you're feeling lucky or stupid, I guess you could hop the fence, then jump over the tracks, and climb up into Howard Beach/JFK station on the A train. (Officially Not Recommended.)
Keep walking north/northwest along Aqueduct Rd, which will soon run out of sidewalk. Fortunately, there's minimal traffic, but it's still preferable to take the first route and stick to sidewalks if you have a rolling bag or significant luggage. You'll be walking over a long overpass (over the Southern/Belt Parkway, and then North Conduit Avenue.) It'll slope back down, and you'll see some fences and gates and the racetrack parking lot behind these. Look for a footpath down the hill to your left, which takes you down to North Conduit Avenue, and immediately, the subway station doors on your right. If you start walking along the racetrack parking lot (this will be obvious) you've gone too far.
Follow directions above, being sure to congratulate yourself on saving $5.
Personally, I like the direct/limited sidewalk route along Aqueduct Road, but only with a backpack or less. The sidewalk route is a somewhat clearer to follow your first time, but also much more trafficked and louder.
Enjoy!
Later, I may post directions for walking out of other major airports, including a personal favorite, Melbourne airport, Australia. La Guardia is so simple you should be able to figure it out by yourself. Sacramento is also easy, but much preferable to bike out of, since it's a hell of a walk to town. San Diego is simple as pie.
Background: until about 2003 or 2004, there was a free shuttle from JFK to the Howard Beach station, on the A train of the New York City subway system. Then they put in the supposedly more convenient Airtrain, and started charging $5 for the formerly free system (not including standard subway fare, currently $2.00, and very soon to be $2.50.) Well, you can take the Airtrain to within about 200 yards of the Howard Beach station (Station A of the Airtrain), but unless you want to jump over barb wire fences and walk across the dreaded 600+ volt third rail, you can't actually get there from there.
GOOD NEWS! You can easily (and legally) walk from Station B of the Airtrain, which is the Long Term Parking / Kiss 'N Fly / Lefferts Blvd station, with about a 15 minute walk to the Aqueduct / North Conduit Ave station on the A train, which is the first stop north of the Howard Beach/JFK station. Here's how:
OPTION 1, EASY with SIDEWALKS, APPROX 20 MINUTES WALKING:
Get on the Airtrain from any JFK terminal. If you fly Delta, like I often do, you'll likely be getting on from Terminal 2 or Terminal 3. Make sure you take the Howard Beach-bound train, *not* the Jamaica-bound train. The LED signs and audible announcements often aren't particularly helpful: ask one of the (usually nice, usually helpful, usually omnipresent) staff wearing the Airtrain/information blazers. I think the blazers are maroon; they're usually looking around for people who look lost or confused. DO NOT ask any other apparent airport employees: they are usually WAY less than helpful. They don't seem to know how to get anywhere other than their individual destinations/homes.
GET OFF THE TRAIN at Long Term Parking, which is Station B, also sometimes referred to as Lefferts Boulevard, and/or Kiss 'N Fly (use your imagination.) It's the last free stop before the Howard Beach/JFK stop for the subway. If you miss it, just stay on the Airtrain: it'll soon turn around and go back toward the airport, and the first stop on the return will be yours.
When you get off the Airtrain, you can orient yourself by looking out the windows. On the south (wrong) side, you'll see a whole bunch of parking. On the north (correct) side, you'll see a bunch of parking, and what looks like about two or three freeways all running parallel behind it. (In case you care, it's the 878/Nassau Expressway, 17N/Belt Parkway/Southern Pkwy, and you might see South Conduit Ave/Route 27, which basically looks like a freeway.) You're looking north if you see the freeways. The subway station you want, Aqueduct/North Conduit, is northwest of you, but you can't see it from here. If you look to your right, which is east (toward the airport/direction you came from) you'll see a street, which is Lefferts Blvd. This is important.
Okay. Look for the escalators going down to exit the station. When you go down the escalator, turn left (north) and walk out the sliding doors, turn right, and walk about 50 feet to Lefferts Blvd. You'll see busstops. Do not cross the street. Turn left and walk north up Lefferts Blvd. You'll be walking along the parking lot chain-link fence with razor wire on top.
TWO CHOICES PRESENT THEMSELVES: first left on Aqueduct Road is the more direct, scenic route, but the sidewalks suck or are non-existent: this is MORE DIRECT/AQUEDUCT, below. The other choice is to keep walking on Lefferts Blvd to North Conduit Blvd, which is INDIRECT/SIDEWALKS below.
INDIRECT/SIDEWALKS
Approximate walking: 15-25 minutes to subway.
Walk along Lefferts, cross the street at Aqueduct Road, and start walking over those various freeways mentioned above. In about five minutes of walking, you'll come to the first road after the freeways, which is North Conduit Avenue. Cross the street to the north side of North Conduit and turn left onto it. Walk along the sidewalk for about another fifteen minutes. You'll pass some soccer fields on the south side of the street, and some residential neighborhoods on your right, then you'll pass the parking lots for the Aqueduct Racktrack. You might see the overhead subway trains chugging along to the west (the direction you're walking.)
Just after the racetrack parking lots, you'll walk under an overpass, which is the subway tracks.
Take a hard right through the doors into the subway station, buy your Metrocard if necessary. Ignore the somewhat incredulous looks of the station agent that you're standing there with luggage and just beat the system. Presumably, take the Manhattan-bound train via the stairway to your right (unless you want to go to Coney Island.) Congratulate yourself on saving $5.
MORE DIRECT/AQUEDUCT
Approximate walking: 10-15 minutes to subway.
Follow the instructions above from the airport, exit the same station, and orient yourself similarly. When you start walking up Lefferts Blvd, you'll take the first left after the parking lot, onto Aqueduct Road. Don't cross over any freeways. Also don't cross the street; there's zero sidewalk on the north side of Aqueduct Rd.
Walk along the annoyingly sloped sidewalk, along the chain-link, razor-wire fence of the long-term parking lot. (You'll pass a car entry to the parking lot, which you could use as a shortcut if you're so inclined.) Toward the end of the parking lot, Aqueduct will curve gently to the left, then curve sharply to the right (heading north.) It's now running parallel with the subway tracks, which you can look through the brambles and up the slope and see trains occasionally running along. If you're feeling lucky or stupid, I guess you could hop the fence, then jump over the tracks, and climb up into Howard Beach/JFK station on the A train. (Officially Not Recommended.)
Keep walking north/northwest along Aqueduct Rd, which will soon run out of sidewalk. Fortunately, there's minimal traffic, but it's still preferable to take the first route and stick to sidewalks if you have a rolling bag or significant luggage. You'll be walking over a long overpass (over the Southern/Belt Parkway, and then North Conduit Avenue.) It'll slope back down, and you'll see some fences and gates and the racetrack parking lot behind these. Look for a footpath down the hill to your left, which takes you down to North Conduit Avenue, and immediately, the subway station doors on your right. If you start walking along the racetrack parking lot (this will be obvious) you've gone too far.
Follow directions above, being sure to congratulate yourself on saving $5.
Personally, I like the direct/limited sidewalk route along Aqueduct Road, but only with a backpack or less. The sidewalk route is a somewhat clearer to follow your first time, but also much more trafficked and louder.
Enjoy!
Later, I may post directions for walking out of other major airports, including a personal favorite, Melbourne airport, Australia. La Guardia is so simple you should be able to figure it out by yourself. Sacramento is also easy, but much preferable to bike out of, since it's a hell of a walk to town. San Diego is simple as pie.
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
Movin' on...
Regular readers already know this, but just in case: we're moving. Again. This time to Atlanta. Turns out that J and I just like to move, and reestablish ourselves in new places. July 1 is the current move date.
I'm looking forward to taking the Alaska ferry again; not so much looking forward to driving the UHaul from Bellingham to Atlanta. But we're basically unwilling to let moving companies touch our shit any more unless we have no other options. Last time around, they lost, stole, or broke literally thousands and thousands of dollars worth of stuff. Same as the time before.
Example: how do you lose a bicycle? (Or steal it)? Answer: you fail to put a number sticker on it, and then claim that it was never loaded on the truck, so you're not responsible for it. J watched them load it (it was her mountain bike) but somehow it didn't pop out on the other end. To this day, we still find ourselves looking for stuff, and realizing that the movers lost/stole it.
Late tonight I fly to Seattle, to spend a night, to fly to SFO tomorrow, and then on to London, and Ireland after that. Big times! Upon returning, I turn around almost immediately for five days in NYC, including testing my new route for walking out of JFK to the subway without paying for the ripoff AirTrain .
On which note, I really need to keep packing, and going through boxes. Turns out it's not really efficient to continue moving multiple boxes of little scraps of paper from the mid-90s, especially when you move every six to twenty-four months.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Furniture & simplifying
I just sold the beautiful Amish bench we had, but was really too big and too heavy for us to move. Fortunately, the woman who bought it is truly excited about it.
Even better, she was excited about my half-finished woodworking projects, two end-tables and a side table, which I sold all three to her for $20. I was trying to give them to her, but she insisted that I absolutely could not give them away. She was borderline horrified when I told her that I was probably just going to donate them to the Starvation Army.
And even better, she might buy the dinette set from the basement later today, and absolutely wants the buffet/side-table if the person coming to look at it at 1:30 today doesn't want it.
Like I told her, it was just nice to sell this stuff to someone who is genuinely excited about it, especially one who self-describes herself as a "furniture person."
Even better, she was excited about my half-finished woodworking projects, two end-tables and a side table, which I sold all three to her for $20. I was trying to give them to her, but she insisted that I absolutely could not give them away. She was borderline horrified when I told her that I was probably just going to donate them to the Starvation Army.
And even better, she might buy the dinette set from the basement later today, and absolutely wants the buffet/side-table if the person coming to look at it at 1:30 today doesn't want it.
Like I told her, it was just nice to sell this stuff to someone who is genuinely excited about it, especially one who self-describes herself as a "furniture person."
Pack, move, unpack, paint, repeat
Now that we've decided to move again, the real work begins. I have a five page long list on a yellow legal pad that I'm walking around the house with, all the tasks and chores to get the house ready to sell.
It's a good excuse to drastically cut down on the amount of crap that we have. Our fantasy is that we could move everything in a cargo van and the Jeep, but that's probably unrealistic. We'll likely need a 10" uhaul or equivalent, but it's good to have goals.
Today, at a minimum, I'm going to paint, do some drywall, continue selling furniture, and try to knock out a series of small tasks throughout the house. They range from significant (clean entire garage; build closet in bedroom) to the silly little things that turn into huge timesucks (level the stove and fridge in the basement kitchenette, which took me about an hour and a half the other day. But it's done right.)
Also trying to sell one of the cars, the trailer, the other trailer, and most of our furniture. It's slow going with how obnoxiously flaky people are about craigslist and following through, but I suppose that's the game.
The views are stunning as we're officially into Spring and the sun is up for more than half of the day. Well, it's not officially Spring for another twenty minutes or so, but close enough.
Okay: enough screwing around. Time to do drywall and paint!
It's a good excuse to drastically cut down on the amount of crap that we have. Our fantasy is that we could move everything in a cargo van and the Jeep, but that's probably unrealistic. We'll likely need a 10" uhaul or equivalent, but it's good to have goals.
Today, at a minimum, I'm going to paint, do some drywall, continue selling furniture, and try to knock out a series of small tasks throughout the house. They range from significant (clean entire garage; build closet in bedroom) to the silly little things that turn into huge timesucks (level the stove and fridge in the basement kitchenette, which took me about an hour and a half the other day. But it's done right.)
Also trying to sell one of the cars, the trailer, the other trailer, and most of our furniture. It's slow going with how obnoxiously flaky people are about craigslist and following through, but I suppose that's the game.
The views are stunning as we're officially into Spring and the sun is up for more than half of the day. Well, it's not officially Spring for another twenty minutes or so, but close enough.
Okay: enough screwing around. Time to do drywall and paint!
Thursday, March 05, 2009
Back home
Back from a lovely week+ in Eugene, Portland, and Troutdale, Oregon, here is what today's to-do list looks like: flush hot water heater, break socket wrench trying to get anode nut off with a breaker bar, go to safeway to get hydrogen peroxide, laundry, snowblow, snowpush, caulk and fill nail holes in trim I installed in bathroom last week, library, do CLE affidavits from excellent conference, work closing shift at restaurant. Good times. It is nice to be home, right?
Right?
Actually I'm really looking forward to biking for the first time in over a week, so it *is* good to be home.
Right?
Actually I'm really looking forward to biking for the first time in over a week, so it *is* good to be home.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Travelin'
Off to PDX tomorrow, then Eugene. much good vegan food, espresso, and beer to follow. Reports may or may not: we'll see.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Dinosaur comics does trial lawyer. Oh, goodness.
I can't do any more justice to this beautiful comic. Check it out, and be sure to roll your cursor over it for the comment.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Res ipsa loquitur
Well, at least I think it does:
I was working with a friend cleaning up his warehouse, and normally he just throws all this crap in the dumpster. So I did one of the most precarious strap and bungee jobs ever, and rode 1.8 miles to the recycling center.
You can barely tell from the picture, but the boxes are sitting on top of my trunk rack, and the box on the top of the pile is stuffed with inserts and paperboard. The mediocre picture quality is due to taking it with my cell phone.
I was working with a friend cleaning up his warehouse, and normally he just throws all this crap in the dumpster. So I did one of the most precarious strap and bungee jobs ever, and rode 1.8 miles to the recycling center.
You can barely tell from the picture, but the boxes are sitting on top of my trunk rack, and the box on the top of the pile is stuffed with inserts and paperboard. The mediocre picture quality is due to taking it with my cell phone.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Exploding mountains
Volcano, volschmano: I'm riding to work.
Yesterday's ride sucked: soft snow on top of ice, none of the paths plowed. Hopefully today will have more clear paths.
Yesterday's ride sucked: soft snow on top of ice, none of the paths plowed. Hopefully today will have more clear paths.
Dinosaur Comics makes me happy
As readers of my blog know, I just love Dinosaur Comics. I read a couple days, and then clicked on the send you to some other comic link at the top, and got to: a rare proposition! i propose a journey to the moon!:
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Inauguration Day
Here's the long-awaited post on my experience of Inauguration day in DC. Okay, so none of you were really awaiting it, since most of you didn't even know that I went. Honestly, I don't know what the hell possessed me to think it would be a good idea. I guess I got in to that sillyass mindset of "once in a lifetime experience" thinking.
Let me start by saying that the inauguration of the first person of color to the presidency is absolutely a cause for celebration. I remain ambivalent about Obama, in part because I don't vote for people who believe in the right of the state to murder its citizens (yes, he's pro-death penalty.) Whatever: time will tell whether the Obama presidency is really great, as many have hopes for, or whether it's like the Clinton years: full of promise, but ultimately a time of miserable public policy. (Just for starters, see: AEDPA, IIRAIRA, DOMA, Don't Ask Don't Tell, PRWOA ("welfare to work"), Federal Death Penalty Act, elimination of inmate education, Communications Decency Act, Digital Millennium Copyright Act, etc., etc.)
But I digress: here's how the inauguration story goes. My friend, we'll call her B, had tickets to the "VIP" bleachers on the parade route at Freedom Plaza on Pennsylvania Avenue between 13th and 14th streets. I was going to be in NYC anyway, so it's not quite as absurd to travel to DC as it sounds. She gets Greyhound tickets, since Amtrak is charging superbowl scalper prices.
The adventure begins with Greyhound. Some of you know that I have long sworn off traveling on Greyhound, mostly for the limited leg room and stench that only a full Greyhound bus, and perhaps gutters running with raw sewage in developing nations can sport. On Monday January 19, we figure out that both our departure and return times are unworkable: we were on a 1:45am bus from Port Authority set to arrive at 6:05am in DC. With the crowds, it was clear that this wouldn't allow enough time to get in before the authorities closed off the checkpoints into the parade route. So we call Greyhound, but we can't change reservations online. So we go to Port Authority and wait in line, but we have to print out the tickets at the kiosk first: the online confirmation page isn't sufficient. But we try all five kiosks, which all say to see an agent. But the agent says they can't print or access online-purchased tickets; we have to print them out from B's e-mail. So we go to Kinko's and print them out and return to Port Authority. Then we go to the smaller (and much more friendly) of the two Greyhound counters at Port Authority, but they tell us we need a supervisor override to change the tickets, since they contain companion fares. So we return to the larger and less friendly counter, where they tell us that's silly, these are fully refundable and changeable tickets. We finally get them changed, and make plans to meet at Port Authority at 11:15 for the 12:30am departure.
I return to Brooklyn, get Alaska-level warm clothes, snacks, and bourbon, and identify a vegan restaurant within walking distance of Port Authority. Probably the highlight of the entire 36 hour experience, Zen Palate was delicious and friendly. I started with a lovely Grilled Sesame Tofu Salad, then had Tofu Delight (w/taro spring rolls, brown & red rice). As I was leaving, they insisted I take about two dozen Peanut Basil Moo-Shu Rolls with me that they couldn't use, which would end up being a huge bonus the next day.
The bus gets out on time with a super energetic driver and lots of cheering and clapping. This was one of the truly beautiful things about the experience: the energy, enthusiasm, and dare I say it, hope, was palpable. Until people got anrgy. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
With maybe an hour of sleep accomplished, we arrive in DC around 4:30am, walk the four blocks to Union Station, and have an early breakfast and coffee. So far, so good. About 5:30, we start the walk to try to get to 13th and Pennsylvania, a walk that was like an unholy chimera of Franz Kafka and Stephen King novels. The crowds were large but tolerable at this point. In the midst of all this, the volunteers in the red beanies were so astonishingly incompetent and ignorant it took my breath away. You could literally get ten different answers from ten volunteers within ten yards of one another. I know DC moderately well, but everything was different on this day: streets blocked off all over the place, and extremely limited ways to get to anything.
Here, due to ignorant advice from volunteers and cops, most of the latter out of town cops, we we pushed into the decision which would dictate much of the rest of the day's lack of success: despite offering otherwise contradictory information on almost everything else, they uniformly insist that the only way to get to the 13th and Pennsylvania is to walk south through the 3rd Street tunnel, also known as Interstate 395, and cross back over the National Mall later, near 12th Street. ZAP! Never again would be be able to get to the north side of Pennsylvania Avenue.
So we continue our Long Walk with ever increasing crowds. We walk west on Independence Avenue, and cut up 7th Street to the Mall. Somewhere in here, it started being nearly wall to wall people in places, and we had to hold hands constantly to keep from being swept up and separated by the crowds. We cut across the mall at 14th Street, and soon realized there was literally no way to cut across Pennsylvania Avenue to the north side. After half a dozen unsuccessful attempts and dozens more interactions with ignorant, worthless volunteers and cops, we doubled back along Madison Drive (the northern border of the Mall) to the checkpoint at 12th Street just a little above Constitution. We stood in a mostly polite, mostly orderly line in the cold for about an hour, until B had to go get coffee and warm up a little. We didn't see each other again until NYC the next day.
Sometime around 8am, the authorities opened up some gates that were holding people back on 12th Street just south of Constitution, and they swarmed toward the checkpoint that we were standing in our orderly little line for. Mob mentality took over almost immediately, and we all swarmed into a mass of people, thousands of us packed so tight you literally couldn't move, and thousands more pushing from behind you. I stood in this scrum for about an hour and a half to two hours, and in this time, moved forward toward the checkpoint perhaps 10 yards.
In this crowd I saw the first example of one of the creepier sights of the day: the crowds were being ordered around and managed by young men in military uniform, essentially identical to ACU (Army Combat Uniform), or what most people think of as BDU (Battle Dress Uniform.) Down to the boots and bloused trousers, the critical exception was that none of these Army soldier lookalikes displayed rank or unit patches. So to those not familiar with military uniforms or protocol, they looked for all the world like active duty soldiers, and indeed, many in the crowd were referring to them as "army guy" and the like. The problem, of course, is that the entire military chain of command is based on rank, and if you're not displaying your rank, the system doesn't function: critically, actual military personnel can't know if they can order you around, or be ordered around by you. I've read many blogs and articles since about "US Army" personnel doing crowd control. My best understanding of these guys is that they were private security contractors, dressed up to look like soldiers to give them an appearance of greater authority and power. (Let's not put aside for the moment the problems with posse comitatus, which prevents the government from using military personnel for domestic law enforcement except in very limited circumstances.)
So we stand in this crowd for a good long while in the cold. The only way I stayed warm was that I was literally surrounded on all sides by people, and even I was shivering and losing sensation in my hands. I saw several people actively going through the stages of hypothermia, including moving from limited shivering, to significant involuntary shivering, and then fading to intermittent or no shivering. Realistically, had any of these people collapsed, I don't know that it would have been possible for them to be evacuated from the crowd. The police standing around, representing departments and sheriff's offices around the eastern and central US, certainly didn't have the capacity or ability to properly treat mass hypothermia.
Finally, seeing that this crowd wasn't moving, and the very likely possibility being that I wouldn't even get in before the secret service decided the crowds were at capacity, I gave up and began my salmon spawning routine. It took about a half hour to move the 150 or so feet through the crowd. I tried to call B, but as has been reported, cell phones were borderline useless that day.
So I wandered around for another couple hours, including looking to see if it would be possible to cross over at 7th Street (strike two!) and played phone tag with another friend from NYC who I knew was going to be there. We finally connected on the Mall, where people watched jumbotrons of the inauguration ceremony.
It was a little unclear why it made sense to watch something on TV on the Mall that you could stay at home and watch on TV, but I suppose I can empathize with wanting to be "part of history." It's a little like the hundreds of thousands of people who claim to have been at the Polo Grounds when Bobby Thompson hit the shot heard round the world in 1951, except here you didn't need a ticket.
Anyway, I hung out with my other friend for a while, kept trying to get B by phone and text, and finally decided to go back to Union Station, which was our pre-agreed meeting point in case we got separated.
With the 3rd Street tunnel and the crowds, the crowds increasingly irritated that their tickets to get in to various parts of the inauguration and parade were basically worthless, walking from 12th and Jefferson to Judiciary Square took a little over an hour. From there, it was clear that there was basically no way to walk to Union Station, so I took the Metro one stop, on what was apparently one of the last Metro red line trains to operate, since a woman fell onto the tracks due to crowding at Gallery Place/Chinatown.
Thus began my functional imprisonment at Union Station. I got some lunch in the food court, and went upstairs to wait for and try to get in touch with B. The crowd here was thick but mostly positive, occasionally breaking into impromptu chants of "O-BAM-A! O-BAM-A! O-BAM-A!" and comparing notes about how their tickets had been worthless to get them in. At some point, I finally heard from B that they had closed in the hundreds of thousands of people on the parade route, and by rumor, the Mall, so I should just go back to NYC whenever I could; she wasn't going anywhere any time soon. I began the trek out of Union Station, only to find out that authorities had closed every single exit except the 1st Street exit. Literally tens of thousands of us were inside, and many of us were trying to get out. Tens of thousands were trying to push the opposite direction, to get into the Metro red line stop. Cops of every stripe were screaming at us on bullhorns to "MOVE MOVE MOVE! STAY RIGHT! KEEP MOVING!" Confidential to every asshole cop that screamed at us that day: WE WERE TRYING. Really. I don't know if all of you were stupid AND blind, or just stupid, but it really wasn't possible to move any faster or more effectively than we were. To get about 150 feet took almost an hour.
I finally made it out only to be told by a particularly aggressive Chicago PD cop that 1st Street was closed, and I had to TURN AROUND MOVE TURN AROUND MOVE. I did, walked up North Capitol Street, and the five circuitous blocks only took about fifteen minutes with the rapidly thinning crowds. I was able to walk almost immediately onto a bus: Greyhound had contract buses ready and waiting to load people, no matter what bus you were scheduled on. As I've told several people, it's truly terrifying when the best organized logistics of the day are by Greyhound. Here I caught about five minutes of CNN's reporting of the inaugural parade which, at 4:55pm, was about 1/3 of the way along its route. (It was supposed to start at 2:30pm.)
The Bolt Bus gets a special shout-out here: comfortable seats with crazy good legroom, a friendly and efficient driver, and free wifi (if it had worked, but I didn't have my laptop anyway.) Apparently online fares as cheap as $1 NYC-DC, and walkup fares between $25 and $35 for NYC, Boston, and DC trips. What they can't control, however, is whatever jackass issued a false bomb threat on the New Jersey Turnpike, causing us to get stuck between exits 2 and 3 for just under two hours. Actually seems like it wasn't the jackass they arrested who was mostly at fault, but rather the jackasses' mother who called it in. So we sat and moved about 100 yards in just under two hours, because all of the other idiot drivers apparently felt the need to continually fill in the few few between themselves and the car in front of them.
I had food, wine (smartly purchased at Union Station before the temporary incarceration), my ipod, and took naps, so it wasn't the worst thing ever, but it certainly wasn't a pleasant way to cap off the day. We finally made it back to Port Authority around 1am, and after taking the subway to Bushwick, I arrived "home" at 2am. Ugh.
Here is an interesting article that doesn't make clear how many of the cops were from out of town, and didn't know anything about how to get around DC. It just notes "other jurisdictions."
So there it is: how this was, on the whole, one of the five or so worst days of my life. Note to self: don't EVER go to DC for a major event again.
Let me start by saying that the inauguration of the first person of color to the presidency is absolutely a cause for celebration. I remain ambivalent about Obama, in part because I don't vote for people who believe in the right of the state to murder its citizens (yes, he's pro-death penalty.) Whatever: time will tell whether the Obama presidency is really great, as many have hopes for, or whether it's like the Clinton years: full of promise, but ultimately a time of miserable public policy. (Just for starters, see: AEDPA, IIRAIRA, DOMA, Don't Ask Don't Tell, PRWOA ("welfare to work"), Federal Death Penalty Act, elimination of inmate education, Communications Decency Act, Digital Millennium Copyright Act, etc., etc.)
But I digress: here's how the inauguration story goes. My friend, we'll call her B, had tickets to the "VIP" bleachers on the parade route at Freedom Plaza on Pennsylvania Avenue between 13th and 14th streets. I was going to be in NYC anyway, so it's not quite as absurd to travel to DC as it sounds. She gets Greyhound tickets, since Amtrak is charging superbowl scalper prices.
The adventure begins with Greyhound. Some of you know that I have long sworn off traveling on Greyhound, mostly for the limited leg room and stench that only a full Greyhound bus, and perhaps gutters running with raw sewage in developing nations can sport. On Monday January 19, we figure out that both our departure and return times are unworkable: we were on a 1:45am bus from Port Authority set to arrive at 6:05am in DC. With the crowds, it was clear that this wouldn't allow enough time to get in before the authorities closed off the checkpoints into the parade route. So we call Greyhound, but we can't change reservations online. So we go to Port Authority and wait in line, but we have to print out the tickets at the kiosk first: the online confirmation page isn't sufficient. But we try all five kiosks, which all say to see an agent. But the agent says they can't print or access online-purchased tickets; we have to print them out from B's e-mail. So we go to Kinko's and print them out and return to Port Authority. Then we go to the smaller (and much more friendly) of the two Greyhound counters at Port Authority, but they tell us we need a supervisor override to change the tickets, since they contain companion fares. So we return to the larger and less friendly counter, where they tell us that's silly, these are fully refundable and changeable tickets. We finally get them changed, and make plans to meet at Port Authority at 11:15 for the 12:30am departure.
I return to Brooklyn, get Alaska-level warm clothes, snacks, and bourbon, and identify a vegan restaurant within walking distance of Port Authority. Probably the highlight of the entire 36 hour experience, Zen Palate was delicious and friendly. I started with a lovely Grilled Sesame Tofu Salad, then had Tofu Delight (w/taro spring rolls, brown & red rice). As I was leaving, they insisted I take about two dozen Peanut Basil Moo-Shu Rolls with me that they couldn't use, which would end up being a huge bonus the next day.
The bus gets out on time with a super energetic driver and lots of cheering and clapping. This was one of the truly beautiful things about the experience: the energy, enthusiasm, and dare I say it, hope, was palpable. Until people got anrgy. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
With maybe an hour of sleep accomplished, we arrive in DC around 4:30am, walk the four blocks to Union Station, and have an early breakfast and coffee. So far, so good. About 5:30, we start the walk to try to get to 13th and Pennsylvania, a walk that was like an unholy chimera of Franz Kafka and Stephen King novels. The crowds were large but tolerable at this point. In the midst of all this, the volunteers in the red beanies were so astonishingly incompetent and ignorant it took my breath away. You could literally get ten different answers from ten volunteers within ten yards of one another. I know DC moderately well, but everything was different on this day: streets blocked off all over the place, and extremely limited ways to get to anything.
Here, due to ignorant advice from volunteers and cops, most of the latter out of town cops, we we pushed into the decision which would dictate much of the rest of the day's lack of success: despite offering otherwise contradictory information on almost everything else, they uniformly insist that the only way to get to the 13th and Pennsylvania is to walk south through the 3rd Street tunnel, also known as Interstate 395, and cross back over the National Mall later, near 12th Street. ZAP! Never again would be be able to get to the north side of Pennsylvania Avenue.
So we continue our Long Walk with ever increasing crowds. We walk west on Independence Avenue, and cut up 7th Street to the Mall. Somewhere in here, it started being nearly wall to wall people in places, and we had to hold hands constantly to keep from being swept up and separated by the crowds. We cut across the mall at 14th Street, and soon realized there was literally no way to cut across Pennsylvania Avenue to the north side. After half a dozen unsuccessful attempts and dozens more interactions with ignorant, worthless volunteers and cops, we doubled back along Madison Drive (the northern border of the Mall) to the checkpoint at 12th Street just a little above Constitution. We stood in a mostly polite, mostly orderly line in the cold for about an hour, until B had to go get coffee and warm up a little. We didn't see each other again until NYC the next day.
Sometime around 8am, the authorities opened up some gates that were holding people back on 12th Street just south of Constitution, and they swarmed toward the checkpoint that we were standing in our orderly little line for. Mob mentality took over almost immediately, and we all swarmed into a mass of people, thousands of us packed so tight you literally couldn't move, and thousands more pushing from behind you. I stood in this scrum for about an hour and a half to two hours, and in this time, moved forward toward the checkpoint perhaps 10 yards.
In this crowd I saw the first example of one of the creepier sights of the day: the crowds were being ordered around and managed by young men in military uniform, essentially identical to ACU (Army Combat Uniform), or what most people think of as BDU (Battle Dress Uniform.) Down to the boots and bloused trousers, the critical exception was that none of these Army soldier lookalikes displayed rank or unit patches. So to those not familiar with military uniforms or protocol, they looked for all the world like active duty soldiers, and indeed, many in the crowd were referring to them as "army guy" and the like. The problem, of course, is that the entire military chain of command is based on rank, and if you're not displaying your rank, the system doesn't function: critically, actual military personnel can't know if they can order you around, or be ordered around by you. I've read many blogs and articles since about "US Army" personnel doing crowd control. My best understanding of these guys is that they were private security contractors, dressed up to look like soldiers to give them an appearance of greater authority and power. (Let's not put aside for the moment the problems with posse comitatus, which prevents the government from using military personnel for domestic law enforcement except in very limited circumstances.)
So we stand in this crowd for a good long while in the cold. The only way I stayed warm was that I was literally surrounded on all sides by people, and even I was shivering and losing sensation in my hands. I saw several people actively going through the stages of hypothermia, including moving from limited shivering, to significant involuntary shivering, and then fading to intermittent or no shivering. Realistically, had any of these people collapsed, I don't know that it would have been possible for them to be evacuated from the crowd. The police standing around, representing departments and sheriff's offices around the eastern and central US, certainly didn't have the capacity or ability to properly treat mass hypothermia.
Finally, seeing that this crowd wasn't moving, and the very likely possibility being that I wouldn't even get in before the secret service decided the crowds were at capacity, I gave up and began my salmon spawning routine. It took about a half hour to move the 150 or so feet through the crowd. I tried to call B, but as has been reported, cell phones were borderline useless that day.
So I wandered around for another couple hours, including looking to see if it would be possible to cross over at 7th Street (strike two!) and played phone tag with another friend from NYC who I knew was going to be there. We finally connected on the Mall, where people watched jumbotrons of the inauguration ceremony.
It was a little unclear why it made sense to watch something on TV on the Mall that you could stay at home and watch on TV, but I suppose I can empathize with wanting to be "part of history." It's a little like the hundreds of thousands of people who claim to have been at the Polo Grounds when Bobby Thompson hit the shot heard round the world in 1951, except here you didn't need a ticket.
Anyway, I hung out with my other friend for a while, kept trying to get B by phone and text, and finally decided to go back to Union Station, which was our pre-agreed meeting point in case we got separated.
With the 3rd Street tunnel and the crowds, the crowds increasingly irritated that their tickets to get in to various parts of the inauguration and parade were basically worthless, walking from 12th and Jefferson to Judiciary Square took a little over an hour. From there, it was clear that there was basically no way to walk to Union Station, so I took the Metro one stop, on what was apparently one of the last Metro red line trains to operate, since a woman fell onto the tracks due to crowding at Gallery Place/Chinatown.
Thus began my functional imprisonment at Union Station. I got some lunch in the food court, and went upstairs to wait for and try to get in touch with B. The crowd here was thick but mostly positive, occasionally breaking into impromptu chants of "O-BAM-A! O-BAM-A! O-BAM-A!" and comparing notes about how their tickets had been worthless to get them in. At some point, I finally heard from B that they had closed in the hundreds of thousands of people on the parade route, and by rumor, the Mall, so I should just go back to NYC whenever I could; she wasn't going anywhere any time soon. I began the trek out of Union Station, only to find out that authorities had closed every single exit except the 1st Street exit. Literally tens of thousands of us were inside, and many of us were trying to get out. Tens of thousands were trying to push the opposite direction, to get into the Metro red line stop. Cops of every stripe were screaming at us on bullhorns to "MOVE MOVE MOVE! STAY RIGHT! KEEP MOVING!" Confidential to every asshole cop that screamed at us that day: WE WERE TRYING. Really. I don't know if all of you were stupid AND blind, or just stupid, but it really wasn't possible to move any faster or more effectively than we were. To get about 150 feet took almost an hour.
I finally made it out only to be told by a particularly aggressive Chicago PD cop that 1st Street was closed, and I had to TURN AROUND MOVE TURN AROUND MOVE. I did, walked up North Capitol Street, and the five circuitous blocks only took about fifteen minutes with the rapidly thinning crowds. I was able to walk almost immediately onto a bus: Greyhound had contract buses ready and waiting to load people, no matter what bus you were scheduled on. As I've told several people, it's truly terrifying when the best organized logistics of the day are by Greyhound. Here I caught about five minutes of CNN's reporting of the inaugural parade which, at 4:55pm, was about 1/3 of the way along its route. (It was supposed to start at 2:30pm.)
The Bolt Bus gets a special shout-out here: comfortable seats with crazy good legroom, a friendly and efficient driver, and free wifi (if it had worked, but I didn't have my laptop anyway.) Apparently online fares as cheap as $1 NYC-DC, and walkup fares between $25 and $35 for NYC, Boston, and DC trips. What they can't control, however, is whatever jackass issued a false bomb threat on the New Jersey Turnpike, causing us to get stuck between exits 2 and 3 for just under two hours. Actually seems like it wasn't the jackass they arrested who was mostly at fault, but rather the jackasses' mother who called it in. So we sat and moved about 100 yards in just under two hours, because all of the other idiot drivers apparently felt the need to continually fill in the few few between themselves and the car in front of them.
I had food, wine (smartly purchased at Union Station before the temporary incarceration), my ipod, and took naps, so it wasn't the worst thing ever, but it certainly wasn't a pleasant way to cap off the day. We finally made it back to Port Authority around 1am, and after taking the subway to Bushwick, I arrived "home" at 2am. Ugh.
Here is an interesting article that doesn't make clear how many of the cops were from out of town, and didn't know anything about how to get around DC. It just notes "other jurisdictions."
So there it is: how this was, on the whole, one of the five or so worst days of my life. Note to self: don't EVER go to DC for a major event again.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Frostfree Bottom
So they postponed the Frosty Bottom due to the truly treacherous conditions. I'm bummed, as I can't do the rescheduled date, but the trails are pretty nasty.
I'm in the middle of another miserable cross-country redeye trip now, sitting in the Seattle airport. I hate redeyes.
Whine, whine, whine. Life isn't too rough when you're going to NYC and DC for a week and a half.
I'm in the middle of another miserable cross-country redeye trip now, sitting in the Seattle airport. I hate redeyes.
Whine, whine, whine. Life isn't too rough when you're going to NYC and DC for a week and a half.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Wow. Snow unicycling.
So, wow: sometimes people think it's pretty badass that I ride my bike throughout the winter, even when it's -20. (When I went out voluntarily, not for a commute, for 22.5 miles...)
But this guy was competing on a groomed downhill race course, on a unicycle, for a preposterous event called the Moose Slide Slalom:
I'm kinda bummed that I didn't hear about it, as I would have seriously considered it (on a two-wheeled vehicle.) So I would have looked more like this:
But it's sort of moot, since it was out in the valley, and there's no way I could have done the event and got back into Anchoragua in time to go to work.
But this guy was competing on a groomed downhill race course, on a unicycle, for a preposterous event called the Moose Slide Slalom:
I'm kinda bummed that I didn't hear about it, as I would have seriously considered it (on a two-wheeled vehicle.) So I would have looked more like this:
But it's sort of moot, since it was out in the valley, and there's no way I could have done the event and got back into Anchoragua in time to go to work.
jail nutrition
I've been reading some pretty choice quotes from an October 2008 decision from the US District Court for Arizona, in the litigation against the despicable sheriff, Joe Arpaio, and the Maricopa County jail system.
See:
Graves, et al. vs. Arpaio, et al., No. CV-77-0479-PHX-NVW, Findings of Fact and Conclusions of Law and Order (D. Ariz. Oct. 22, 2008, at pages 68-69:
388. The Maricopa County Jails dietician’s opinion is that there is no nutritional difference among different fruits, vegetables, meats, and starches, and it is unnecessary to distinguish a cup of lettuce from a cup of green beans, a banana from an apple, or a hot dog from turkey.
389. The Maricopa County Jails dietician’s opinion is that French fries, diced potatoes, rice, and macaroni are of equal nutritional value.
390. The Maricopa County Jails dietician’s opinion is that one ounce of beef has the same nutritional value as one ounce of turkey.
391. The Maricopa County Jails dietician’s opinions regarding nutritional equivalents are not credible, and the Court does not believe them.
...
416. Therefore, prospective relief remains necessary to correct a current and ongoing violation of the pretrial detainees’ federal right to adequate nutrition.
417. Paragraph 95 of the Amended Judgment will not be terminated because Defendant Arpaio has not met his burden of proving there is no current and ongoing violation of pretrial detainees’ constitutional right to adequate nutrition.
See:
Graves, et al. vs. Arpaio, et al., No. CV-77-0479-PHX-NVW, Findings of Fact and Conclusions of Law and Order (D. Ariz. Oct. 22, 2008, at pages 68-69:
388. The Maricopa County Jails dietician’s opinion is that there is no nutritional difference among different fruits, vegetables, meats, and starches, and it is unnecessary to distinguish a cup of lettuce from a cup of green beans, a banana from an apple, or a hot dog from turkey.
389. The Maricopa County Jails dietician’s opinion is that French fries, diced potatoes, rice, and macaroni are of equal nutritional value.
390. The Maricopa County Jails dietician’s opinion is that one ounce of beef has the same nutritional value as one ounce of turkey.
391. The Maricopa County Jails dietician’s opinions regarding nutritional equivalents are not credible, and the Court does not believe them.
...
416. Therefore, prospective relief remains necessary to correct a current and ongoing violation of the pretrial detainees’ federal right to adequate nutrition.
417. Paragraph 95 of the Amended Judgment will not be terminated because Defendant Arpaio has not met his burden of proving there is no current and ongoing violation of pretrial detainees’ constitutional right to adequate nutrition.
55 degrees...
No, that's not the temperature outside, but it's not that far off. That's the temperature variation at my house from a week ago, when it was -20F, to right now, as it's 35F. The roads are icy enough that Anchorage public schools are closed, Alyeska ski resort is closed, UAA and APU are closed, and everyone is generally in a tizzy.
For what I think is the first time I've ever heard it, the Peoplemover (public bus) is not operating. This last one drives it home for me: in western Massachusetts, you knew it was a bad weather day if it impacted the PVTA was impacted.
Winds gusting to 105 mph this afternoon along the Turnagain Arm. These winds won't impact us, this is at least ten miles away to the south/southeast. What I find most interesting about this is that if this were a tropical cyclone, it would amount to a Category Two hurricane, which for historical reference is what hurricanes Frances and Isabel were when they made landfall in the US. Yes, people voluntarily live along the Turnagain Arm.
The National Weather Service has now cancelled the freezing rain advisory, and bizarrely, the sun is coming out in spots. It looks vaguely apocalyptic to the south, though this image doesn't really do it justice:
For what I think is the first time I've ever heard it, the Peoplemover (public bus) is not operating. This last one drives it home for me: in western Massachusetts, you knew it was a bad weather day if it impacted the PVTA was impacted.
Winds gusting to 105 mph this afternoon along the Turnagain Arm. These winds won't impact us, this is at least ten miles away to the south/southeast. What I find most interesting about this is that if this were a tropical cyclone, it would amount to a Category Two hurricane, which for historical reference is what hurricanes Frances and Isabel were when they made landfall in the US. Yes, people voluntarily live along the Turnagain Arm.
The National Weather Service has now cancelled the freezing rain advisory, and bizarrely, the sun is coming out in spots. It looks vaguely apocalyptic to the south, though this image doesn't really do it justice:
Thursday, January 08, 2009
Uncle Felon update
Hot off the presses, the Alaska Bar Association (which I'm a member of) is pushing hard to get the Alaska Supreme Court to revoke Ted Stevens' license to practice law in Alaska. The felonious ex-senator has already has his law licenses suspended in California and DC.
But this is Alaska, so we're still screwing around with this. Up here, his attorneys have been arguing, basically, that he wasn't really convicted, and that his convictions weren't really crimes. Huh?
The Alaska Supreme Court's Case Management System is a moderately handy way to keep up to date on the pleadings and arguments in Stevens' disbarment case, which is case number S13316.
But this is Alaska, so we're still screwing around with this. Up here, his attorneys have been arguing, basically, that he wasn't really convicted, and that his convictions weren't really crimes. Huh?
The Alaska Supreme Court's Case Management System is a moderately handy way to keep up to date on the pleadings and arguments in Stevens' disbarment case, which is case number S13316.
Cold and simplicity
We've been working hard to simplify our possessions (aka crap.) For example, it served me well for many years and many trips, but for some reason, I think it's finally time to retire one of our two travel hairbrushes:
The thermometer outside remains bottomed out, as it has been for most of the last two weeks:
I mean, what kind of jerk buys a thermometer that bottoms out at -10 and puts it outside in Alaska? My only defense is that it was on clearance for $3 and I wanted a hygrometer. At least it's pretty outside:
Know the saying "easy as pie"? Well, pie really isn't all that easy, but the results are usually fairly rewarding:
These are all vegan, and all the same filling: pear, apple, wiki, satsuma orange, and Meyer lemon zest:
Pretty tasty, if I do say so myself.
I continue to ride my bike, and train for the Frosty Bottom 50/25 . Here is the newly updated course map: Frosty Bottom . I rode most of the course as a trial run the other day, and I can't wait. I'm also seriously considering the Little Su 50 but it'll depend on travel schedules and work. Yes, I know I'm deranged.
The thermometer outside remains bottomed out, as it has been for most of the last two weeks:
I mean, what kind of jerk buys a thermometer that bottoms out at -10 and puts it outside in Alaska? My only defense is that it was on clearance for $3 and I wanted a hygrometer. At least it's pretty outside:
Know the saying "easy as pie"? Well, pie really isn't all that easy, but the results are usually fairly rewarding:
These are all vegan, and all the same filling: pear, apple, wiki, satsuma orange, and Meyer lemon zest:
Pretty tasty, if I do say so myself.
I continue to ride my bike, and train for the Frosty Bottom 50/25 . Here is the newly updated course map: Frosty Bottom . I rode most of the course as a trial run the other day, and I can't wait. I'm also seriously considering the Little Su 50 but it'll depend on travel schedules and work. Yes, I know I'm deranged.
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