I didn't get up at 2am to drive to Mt Rainier like one of my friends, but I did spend almost all day outside yesterday. Cassie and I met friends (one human, one dog) in Elmhurst for a 9-kilometer walk down the Prairie Path in the morning. And my car flipped 30,000 km on the way back from the walk:
That 2.1 L/100 km (112 MPG) is for the entire life of the car. In fact, I used some gasoline yesterday for the first time since June 15th, so this year my car is getting closer to 1.5 L/100 km (151 MPG)—and of course infinite MPG for over three months. And of course, 30,000 km since 22 December 2018 is an average of 14.2 km per day, which is exactly how I avoid using gasoline most of the time.
Finally, yesterday evening Cassie and I went to Spiteful Brewing to enjoy the 24°C weather:
Today we're heading to the dog beach and the Dock, which closes for the season tonight.
I decamped to Marseille on my last full day in France last week, since I had a flight before 11 am and didn't want to add another hour coming from Aix. I will have to visit the city again, hopefully before I'm too old to negotiate the steps to the train station:
I walked around a bit, up through the Panier district, where I caught this view of the Vieux Port:
But this is probably a better view:
I finished the evening at this little corner bar near my hotel. If it were in Chicago, it would just have an Old Style sign out front:
And that's it for Europe, for now. I'll aim to get back to Provence in 2 years or so, and I'll bring my real camera.
A week ago Sunday, my friends picked me up in Aix-en-Provence and took me to their house in St-Martin-de-la-Brasque, about 30 km north, just south of the Luberon massif. I can see the appeal:
We then drove about 10 km to the Commune of Lourmarin, which may be even prettier than Aix:
Yes, Provence really does look like that. I really need to go back.
Let me tell you how much I suffered in Aix-en-Provence. I mean, just look at this stuff, starting with the street my hotel was on:
The Passage Agard, off Cours Mirabeau:
The Fontaine du Roi René at the east end of Cours Mirabeau:
Rue Aumône Vielle:
Finally, the Palais de Justice (the local courthouse) just past 9am on the 23rd:
Tomorrow: Lourmarin and St-Martin-de-la-Brasque.
President Jimmy Carter turned 100 today, making him the first former president to do so. James Fallows has a bit of hagiography on his blog today, and the State of Georgia has declared today "Jimmy Carter Day." I hope I make it to 100, too, but I don't expect the State of Illinois to declare that day a public holiday.
In other news:
Finally, yesterday the UK turned off its last operating coal-fired power plant, ending a 142-year run of burning coal to generate power. XKCD points out that in those 142 years, the UK burned the equivalent of about 3 inches of its land surface generating electricity.
And of course, I'll watch the Vice-Presidential Debate tonight at 9pm Eastern, but I don't plan to live-blog. Reactions tomorrow, though.
I can scarcely believe I took these 10 days ago, on Friday the 20th. I already posted about my walk from Borough Market back to King's X; this is where I started:
You can get a lovely snack there for just a few quid. In my case, a container of fresh olives, some bread, and some cheese set me back about £6. Next time, I'll try something from Mei Mei.
Later, I scored one of the rare pork baps at Southampton Arms. Someone else really wanted a bite, too:
Sorry, little guy, I can't give you any of this—oh darn I just dropped a bit of pork on the ground. (Lucky dog.)
Finally, this screen shot shows why I love Europe so much. (It's in French because I switched my phone's language settings to help practice while I was preparing for the trip.) The blue dot in the center-left shows where my train was at 20:06 France time (18:06 UTC) on Saturday the 21st. The stuff in the upper-right corner shows my phone's GPS utility. If you look at the left side of that box, you can see "Vitesse 303;" i.e., a speed of 303 km/h, or 190 mph. And that isn't even the train's top normal operating speed.
If we elect people in this country who actually care about climate change, we could have trains like that here, too. But given the proportion of the electorate who plan to vote for the convicted-felon rapist demented geriatric XPOTUS in five weeks, I am not optimistic.
Because I had a busy weekend, I had quite a full inbox this morning. After deleting the 85% of it that came from the Democratic Party and the Harris-Walz campaign (guys, you've already got my vote, FFS), I still had quite a few items of interest:
Finally, astronomers have found a rocky, Earth-sized planet orbiting a dying main-sequence white dwarf star, seemingly having survived the star's expansion during its red-giant phase. This suggests that our planet may last until the end of time itself. Life on Earth probably won't last more than a billion more years, but that's someone else's problem.
I meant to post more photos from my trip earlier this month, but I do have a full-time job and other obligations. Plus it took me a couple of days longer than usual to recover, which I blame squarely on the shitty hotel room I had for my first night causing a sleep deficit that I never recovered from.
I posted a couple of these already, but with crude, quick edits done on my phone. I think these treatments might be a little better.
Sunrise at O'Hare on the 18th:
The hills of Hampshire:
Invasive megafauna preparing to attack:
Why I decided to walk for 10 km through Hampshire in the first place:
The Grand Canal:
It might take a few days to get more of these done. I'll post more as I get to them.
The White Sox lost to the Detroit Tigers last night, their 121st loss of the season and the most losses in Major League Baseball history, to become the Greatest Losers of All Time:
After enjoying a three-game sweep of the struggling Angels to avoid history in front of their disgruntled home fans, the Sox went back to their losing ways Friday, falling for the 121st time to set a modern-day major-league record on the third-to-last day of the season.
The Sox had shared the loss record with the 1962 Mets since Sunday, and, harboring hopes of sweeping the Tigers to avoid breaking the mark, they sent their best pitcher to face Detroit in hopes of extending their winning streak to four. Garrett Crochet, making his 32nd start in his first season as a starter, tossed four scoreless innings to do his part. The All-Star left-hander, who didn’t pitch more than four innings after June, struck out six, walked one and allowed four hits.
“No real emotions,” Crochet said. “Obviously, it sucks. We put ourselves in this position early on. We had a bad April [6-24 in March and April]. We just never dug ourselves out of that hole. We are where we are because of the way we played, which sucks. But that’s just all it is.”
The Sox will go into October finished with baseball and standing alone as the losingest team in the modern era. Only the 1899 Cleveland Spiders, who were 20-134, lost more games.
So only one question remains: can they make it 123?
Two of the worst teams in baseball played their last home games of the season yesterday, one of them for the last time in their current home.
The Chicago White Sox improbably swept the Los Angeles Angels at home this week, holding their season losses at 120 and their Tragic Number at 1. Chicago Sun-Times columnist Rick Morrissey can't see how this gets better next year:
When a franchise sets the modern-era record for losses in a season, which the Sox are on the verge of doing, it’s going to see fans secede from the union. Especially Sox fans, who are equal measure discerning and crusty.
Assuming the Sox will be bad next season, too — call it a hunch — that will be three straight seasons of awfulness. That’s not a generation of lost fans, but it’s not a blip, either.
The Sox are in the middle of their second rebuild in seven years and have very little to show for it except a chase for the record for losses (120) set by the 1962 Mets, an expansion team. The short-term damage has been obvious. The Sox have the fourth-lowest home attendance in baseball (17,955). The long-term damage? The fans the Sox might have had but never will.
Three thousand kilometers west, the Oakland Athletics yesterday ended their 56-year residence at the ugliest ball park in the Major Leagues, Oakland Coliseum:
Many clad in green and gold came to the Coliseum's parking lot to tailgate hours before first pitch Thursday afternoon and filled the ballpark with cheers for the team and jeers for A's owner John Fisher, who is moving a team that came to Oakland in 1968 and won four World Series during its time in the Bay Area.
The A's are moving for at least three years starting in 2025 to Sutter Health Park in West Sacramento, the home of the San Francisco Giants' Triple-A minor league affiliate Sacramento River Cats, before a planned move to Las Vegas for a stadium the team hopes will be ready by 2028.
Oakland took a 3-0 lead in the early innings and held on for the victory with All-Star closer Mason Miller getting the save with a groundout to end the A's tenure in Oakland. After the game, the players and coaches all came out on the field to raise their caps to the fans and stadium staff.
At least the A's won, though their 69-90 record for the year so far won't inspire any Norse sagas. The White Sox, on the other hand, will inspire us for generations.
The African American Sports & Entertainment Group plans to buy the Oakland Coliseum and its surrounding parking lots for a new mixed-use development.