SO and I don't exchange Christmas gifts anymore; we haven't for years. Let's be honest: More stuff tends to clutter life, not improve it.
But there was a time when we did exchange gifts. Gifts would typically be something of moderate value on Christmas Eve, with much smaller things (fruit, candy, small hobby supplies, etc.) in stockings on Christmas morning.
Somewhere between 15 and 20 years ago, one of the items I put in SO's stocking was a cooking spoon. It was hard plastic and slotted with a figure-8 in it. At some point a short time after that Christmas morning, I handed that spoon to SO while we were making dinner. She commented something like, "Not that one, I hate that spoon." I laughed and reminded her it was a Christmas present, and that has become a long running joke ever since.
"I need a spoon from the utensil drawer."
"Do you want the one you hate?"
I'm trying to remember what I did last year around the end of the year. I had a few extra days off after I finished deer hunting, and there are always the days off around Christmas and New Years. Cabin fever usually sets in towards the end of the year.
I keep a running list of all the books I read - it serves as a good reminder so I don't inadvertently get the same book at the library twice. It also helps when I'm trying to think of a particular book or author to recommend to someone, and the list sometimes helps me remember what I was doing at a certain time by correlating events with what I happened to be reading. Looking back at late 2016, I wasn't reading very much so that was not helpful. Although I seem to recall rereading several books around that time. The spreadsheet I use to keep track of my work vacation time didn't add any perspective either. Emails from around then are similarly unhelpful. Sometimes even what I've written here may spark a reminder. Looking back at the end of 2016 appears like looking into a foggy mirror.
It makes me worried that I wasted a lot of time at the end of last year.
I hate wasting time. Time is the one commodity that is absolutely fixed. Once a minute is gone, it is gone forever. But then again maybe not. Big mistakes seem to live on in perpetuity. That sounds too negative - many good events take on a life of their own as well. But not like the blunders do.
SO made toffee a short time ago on a day she had off of work. I also noticed three new wooden spoons in the utensil drawer. Wooden spoons have their place, but they can also absorb stuff while cooking. The last wooden spoon was thrown away when mice somehow found it and ate a large percentage of it. The mice in the old house would often make their presence known. If the new house has mice, I've never noticed any evidence of them except in the garage on rare occasions.
I asked SO about the wooden spoons, only because there were three of them. A wooden spoon might ber a useful utensil to have around. But three? "I melted one of the plastic spoons when I made toffee." This should not have been unexpected. "I should probably throw the toffee away, I think there is still some plastic in it."
"One of the cheap fat plastic spoons?" I asked.
"No."
"The one you hate?"
"Yes."
Sunday, December 24, 2017
Monday, December 18, 2017
Hillbilly Elegy by J.D. Vance
I was able to walk into the library and get a copy of Hillbilly Elegy - meaning it no longer carries the crazy impossible-to-borrow best seller (or borrower?) status it did for so long. Still, I hadn't read it before so it was new to me.
Hillbilly Elegy was a book that was on my want-to-read list, then it was taken off. Then at some point it made it back on. Like many best sellers, I was a bit apprehensive. Some of the criticism in the reviews also steered me away.
But the author lived fairly nearby where I live for much of his life and there was lots of positive about the book. Since I could walk in and get a copy, I did.
I was glad I did as the book was overall quite good. The author being native to the area I now call home and looking at the events and dates in the book - it is very possible our paths may have crossed. Not that I have likely ever met him or talked to him, but he wrote about places and things that are very nearby. While his upwardly mobile path sent him to live in San Francisco, my more lateral path sent me to live in the same rust belt area he called home. Although from the small amount I've read about him since finishing the book, it appears he has since moved back to Ohio to start a nonprofit helping his former community. This is deserving of praise as he now has the background and probably finances to live just about anywhere.
The book doesn't start off that well. The first few chapters are somewhat disjointed and lurchy. He introduces many characters - some of which feature prominently in the book and some of which do not. I had a hard time following many of them and the similar colloquial names did not help.
After those first few chapters, it almost seemed like the author got a different editor as the flow of the writing smoothed out considerably. The narrative started to form as the story began to build.
The story itself is one of J.D. Vance's movement within a transplanted Kentucky hillbilly family - his transformation from a poor and degraded section of Middletown, Ohio to a Yale-educated lawyer.
Some of the complaints I saw about the book took on a racial tone or that he was speaking for only one brand of hillbilly. I think this is unfortunate as he was telling his own story - pointing out what worked for him and what he saw as unsuccessful. One could lob the same accusations at Lac Su for I Love Yous Are for White People as the tale is similar. I never got the impression from the book that he was stating as fact that other people will be able to copy his success directly. But what leads to failure is often much easier to predict and duplicate.
Sadly, many have read and interpreted the book with a political slant. Donald Trump's election to the White House was coincidental to the release of the book, but unless the author has clairvoyance that he doesn't share, the 2016 election was unknown when the book was written. Despite what The Huffington Post or Fox News would like us to believe, not everything is political. His story is an interesting personal narrative - I think it is better to leave it at that.
Outside of the dramatic story, what struck me most was his interaction with some of the more elite of society while at Yale. He describes going to a Cracker Barrel restaurant with some of his classmates who had presumably never been to one before - or any of its ilk of restaurants. To them, it is merely “a greasy public health crisis.” Cracker Barrel is not my favorite places, but on the list of eating establishments I would consider “a greasy public health crisis,” it would not be near the top of the list.
What I found terrifying in this section is the people who consider Cracker Barrel “a greasy public health crisis” are the same people who are, by in large, writing our laws, interpreting our laws and running major corporations in the country. I work with some people who come from privileged background, and I can't think of any of them who don't occasionally go to eat fast food or cheap Chinese take-out. Treating Cracker Barrel as little more than barnyard fodder demonstrates a segment of society that is grossly out of touch with not just the poor and lower-middle class, but even some who would be considered rich.
I can only hope that this is one of a few exaggerations in the book.
Which brings up my main criticism of the text - I think he misses a big point, or doesn't make it forcefully enough.
Everybody makes mistakes and just about everybody makes a few doozies while growing up. What separates the rich from everyone else (or possibly what separates the poor from everyone else) is the ability to recover from those mistakes. The rich have an impossibly large safety net. The poor may have to rely on an overburdened court system which constantly sees similar people continue to make mistakes well into adulthood.
I don't mean that killing a carload of friends while drinking and driving should not have consequences for either the rich or poor. But being able to safely fail is an incredibly important part of learning as anyone grows up.
Peak behind the curtain of the wealthy Yale Law School students and I'm convinced things aren't quite as clean as what the author paints it out to be. Shake those rich family trees hard enough and a few surprises are bound to fall out. But the ability to work through that, to recover from mistakes has a sliding scale from the rich, through the middle-class, to the poor.
Sadly, luck also plays a role. Being fortunate cannot be underestimated.
Because my copy of Hillbilly Elegy came from the library, it had been previously read by an unknown number of other people. One reader had underlined several passages and written a few notes in the margins. This is, of course, not the first time I've seen this in a library book, and I often find this maddening. I probably over-interpreted what was there, but in this instance it added just a bit to he book - knowing another person who lives in the same area of the state as J.D. Vance was highlighting sections he or she thought pertinent. It really is a small world.
"...that those of us lucky enough to live the American Dream, the demons we left behind continue to chase us."
There but for the grace of God go I.
Hillbilly Elegy was a book that was on my want-to-read list, then it was taken off. Then at some point it made it back on. Like many best sellers, I was a bit apprehensive. Some of the criticism in the reviews also steered me away.
But the author lived fairly nearby where I live for much of his life and there was lots of positive about the book. Since I could walk in and get a copy, I did.
I was glad I did as the book was overall quite good. The author being native to the area I now call home and looking at the events and dates in the book - it is very possible our paths may have crossed. Not that I have likely ever met him or talked to him, but he wrote about places and things that are very nearby. While his upwardly mobile path sent him to live in San Francisco, my more lateral path sent me to live in the same rust belt area he called home. Although from the small amount I've read about him since finishing the book, it appears he has since moved back to Ohio to start a nonprofit helping his former community. This is deserving of praise as he now has the background and probably finances to live just about anywhere.
The book doesn't start off that well. The first few chapters are somewhat disjointed and lurchy. He introduces many characters - some of which feature prominently in the book and some of which do not. I had a hard time following many of them and the similar colloquial names did not help.
After those first few chapters, it almost seemed like the author got a different editor as the flow of the writing smoothed out considerably. The narrative started to form as the story began to build.
The story itself is one of J.D. Vance's movement within a transplanted Kentucky hillbilly family - his transformation from a poor and degraded section of Middletown, Ohio to a Yale-educated lawyer.
Some of the complaints I saw about the book took on a racial tone or that he was speaking for only one brand of hillbilly. I think this is unfortunate as he was telling his own story - pointing out what worked for him and what he saw as unsuccessful. One could lob the same accusations at Lac Su for I Love Yous Are for White People as the tale is similar. I never got the impression from the book that he was stating as fact that other people will be able to copy his success directly. But what leads to failure is often much easier to predict and duplicate.
Sadly, many have read and interpreted the book with a political slant. Donald Trump's election to the White House was coincidental to the release of the book, but unless the author has clairvoyance that he doesn't share, the 2016 election was unknown when the book was written. Despite what The Huffington Post or Fox News would like us to believe, not everything is political. His story is an interesting personal narrative - I think it is better to leave it at that.
Outside of the dramatic story, what struck me most was his interaction with some of the more elite of society while at Yale. He describes going to a Cracker Barrel restaurant with some of his classmates who had presumably never been to one before - or any of its ilk of restaurants. To them, it is merely “a greasy public health crisis.” Cracker Barrel is not my favorite places, but on the list of eating establishments I would consider “a greasy public health crisis,” it would not be near the top of the list.
What I found terrifying in this section is the people who consider Cracker Barrel “a greasy public health crisis” are the same people who are, by in large, writing our laws, interpreting our laws and running major corporations in the country. I work with some people who come from privileged background, and I can't think of any of them who don't occasionally go to eat fast food or cheap Chinese take-out. Treating Cracker Barrel as little more than barnyard fodder demonstrates a segment of society that is grossly out of touch with not just the poor and lower-middle class, but even some who would be considered rich.
I can only hope that this is one of a few exaggerations in the book.
Which brings up my main criticism of the text - I think he misses a big point, or doesn't make it forcefully enough.
Everybody makes mistakes and just about everybody makes a few doozies while growing up. What separates the rich from everyone else (or possibly what separates the poor from everyone else) is the ability to recover from those mistakes. The rich have an impossibly large safety net. The poor may have to rely on an overburdened court system which constantly sees similar people continue to make mistakes well into adulthood.
I don't mean that killing a carload of friends while drinking and driving should not have consequences for either the rich or poor. But being able to safely fail is an incredibly important part of learning as anyone grows up.
Peak behind the curtain of the wealthy Yale Law School students and I'm convinced things aren't quite as clean as what the author paints it out to be. Shake those rich family trees hard enough and a few surprises are bound to fall out. But the ability to work through that, to recover from mistakes has a sliding scale from the rich, through the middle-class, to the poor.
Sadly, luck also plays a role. Being fortunate cannot be underestimated.
Because my copy of Hillbilly Elegy came from the library, it had been previously read by an unknown number of other people. One reader had underlined several passages and written a few notes in the margins. This is, of course, not the first time I've seen this in a library book, and I often find this maddening. I probably over-interpreted what was there, but in this instance it added just a bit to he book - knowing another person who lives in the same area of the state as J.D. Vance was highlighting sections he or she thought pertinent. It really is a small world.
"...that those of us lucky enough to live the American Dream, the demons we left behind continue to chase us."
There but for the grace of God go I.
Friday, December 15, 2017
The Politics of the Office Gift Exchange
Several years ago there was there was a Christmas white elephant gift exchange in the department I was working in at the time. I had a spare copy of Quentin Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs and thought about using that. I didn't but wish I would have.
"Tasteful, useable(sic) gifts please."
I've never worked anywhere that had a secret santa gift exchange, and I'm very glad about that. I would probably opt to not participate in that. The pitfalls associated with secret Santas are just too awful to contemplate.
But opting out of office social theatrics can be just as dangerous as participation. A dentist visit may be wiser. Or quitting.
Most places I've worked, outside of the ones that do thankfully nothing, have a white elephant gift exchange. These can be humorous as various rules during the actual exchange mean highly desirable gifts are exchanged and sought after. Sometimes what is sought after is inexplicable.
Where I currently work, the suggestion is for something between $5 and $10. Several political phenomena can be observed:
This year I gave Duke's Original Recipe Smoked Sausage. Smack dap in the middle of the price range at just over $7. As food, it isn't something that will have to stick around too long. My only hope was that the office vegan would somehow end up with it. The horror. The horror. Never get out of the boat.
"Never apologize. Never explain." - Hunter S Thompson
The most sought after items were a couple bottles of wine that must have been determined to be better than average. The Big Spender's large box of craft beers were also sought after with vigor.
I ended up with two utility lighters. These have some usefulness, but I already have two of them. I may now have a lifetime supply of them - although the igniters typically give out long before the butane is exhausted.
"Tasteful, useable(sic) gifts please."
I've never worked anywhere that had a secret santa gift exchange, and I'm very glad about that. I would probably opt to not participate in that. The pitfalls associated with secret Santas are just too awful to contemplate.
But opting out of office social theatrics can be just as dangerous as participation. A dentist visit may be wiser. Or quitting.
Most places I've worked, outside of the ones that do thankfully nothing, have a white elephant gift exchange. These can be humorous as various rules during the actual exchange mean highly desirable gifts are exchanged and sought after. Sometimes what is sought after is inexplicable.
Where I currently work, the suggestion is for something between $5 and $10. Several political phenomena can be observed:
- The bottle of wine - everybody wants it, if only to dull the pain. But nobody can look too much like they want it, lest they be labeled the office lush.
- The regift - I recall an amaryllis given one year where, on opening the box, the recipient pulled out a plant that had sprouted and grown in complete darkness. Living its whole life without light, it looked like a cave fish - giving away the fact that it was a year old.
- The big spender - the gift obviously over the suggested amount, where the giver doesn't want to be revealed but really does want to be known.
- The cheap spender - post-it notes and office pens. Is that theft?
- The last minuter - something ... anything from the gas station on the way into the office in the morning.
- The home made present - often thoughtful, but almost too personal for work. And the last thing most of us need is more stuff to sit on a shelf.
This year I gave Duke's Original Recipe Smoked Sausage. Smack dap in the middle of the price range at just over $7. As food, it isn't something that will have to stick around too long. My only hope was that the office vegan would somehow end up with it. The horror. The horror. Never get out of the boat.
The most sought after items were a couple bottles of wine that must have been determined to be better than average. The Big Spender's large box of craft beers were also sought after with vigor.
I ended up with two utility lighters. These have some usefulness, but I already have two of them. I may now have a lifetime supply of them - although the igniters typically give out long before the butane is exhausted.
As it turned out, the Big Spender opened the package of sausages. The face she made was not very pleasant. I didn't follow the movement to know if she ended up with it or not.
The highest level manager at the soiree announced his intention to leave his gift as "tip for the wait staff." I contemplated how that may be perceived by the person who brought that one in.
I suppose the politics follow the receiver as well as the giver.
The highest level manager at the soiree announced his intention to leave his gift as "tip for the wait staff." I contemplated how that may be perceived by the person who brought that one in.
I suppose the politics follow the receiver as well as the giver.
Friday, December 8, 2017
Ridgeline Nation
I'm not sure why, but I love going to the scrapyard. My introduction to it goes back about 25 years when the shop I was a mechanic at was moving. My boss had piles of classic car treasures - meaning troves of useless used parts from defunct scrapped cars containing enough valuable gems that everything was worth saving ... until the time came to move. He couldn't bear to part with them, so a few of us did near-daily runs to the scrap yard for a bit of extra cash. It was always fun to see what else was in the pile of metal at the scrapyard - everything from shards of tire shredding junk to nearly pristine automobile engines from an R&D facility a few miles away.
Ever since then, I've always tried to save metal for recycling, if for no other reason than an excuse to visit the metal scrapyard.
At times this leaves me feeling like a meth-head. I had a moderate amount of aluminum I was selling when the fuel pump on my F-150 went belly up. Standing in line with the people selling stolen water pipes and small bits of wire was an experience. It was not fun, after getting my cash, waiting for the tow truck to show up as it got darker and darker. They typically don't put scrap yards in the best neighborhoods.
When moving to my current house, I had piles of metal to be recycled, including the body of an MGB I had to cut up with a tiger saw. This was no meth-head operation, but quite the undertaking fitting all that steel in the bed of my Toyota Tacoma.
So when I heard about the book Junkard Planet by Adam Minter, I knew I had to read it. It is a fascinating look at the scrap and recycling industry, primarily the money and trade between the US and Western Europe to and from Asia. This is a must-read for anybody who has ever marveled at the piles of metal at the scrap yard, or the idealistic neighborhood recycler.
My 2017 Honda Ridgeline was made in Lincoln, Alabama. I have now had this truck for a year and about 13,000 miles. I bought it new, but at the risk of anthropomorphizing something inanimate, Junkyard Planet made me think about its former life. Exactly where did the metal, plastic, fabric, etc. of my Honda start out? How much of the materials that make up the Ridgeline are reclaimed vs. made out of new material extracted from the ground?
My original plan was to write either a 10,000 mile review of the Ridgeline, or a 1-year review. But 10,000 passed a while ago while driving through South Dakota. And yes, I do use the awful "Eco" button when on the interstate for long trips. It is OK on the interstate, but it makes the vehicle nearly intolerable to drive any other time.
When I reread my previous Original and Six-Month reviews, they still cover my experience with the Ridgeline extremely well. In the year and 13,000 miles that I've had the vehicle, I have really gotten to like this vehicle. There are a few quirks, but I've yet to see any vehicle that doesn't have them. Vehicle design must be an exercise in trade-offs. While initially I was somewhat neutral on the appearance of the truck, even that has grown on me.
There are, predictably, a lot of piddly complaints which can be read on sites like the Ridgeline Owners Club. Like most of the message boards I read, I'm a chronic lurker there. People love to complain online. But with few exceptions - it is just noise and this happens with just about every vehicle made ... ever. The two biggest complaints I've seen are a lack of radio knobs - but my trim level has radio knobs thank-you-very-much. However I rarely use them since controlling it from the steering wheel is easier. Having my dogs on the radio wallpaper is a great feature to have.
The other complaint is how far the back doors open. To be fair, I don't think any person has ever sat in the back seat in my truck. But the doors open wide enough to easily get a double rifle case in front of OR UNDER the back seat. That last option is great as it frees up so much more storage space for other things when I go on road trips.
And my Ridgeline has been on a few road trips. About 30% of the miles on my Ridgeline have been hunting road trips. The amount of stuff I can fit in it is vastly superior to my former Tacoma. In addition to interior room, the Ridgeline has a voluminous "trunk" under the bed that easily holds all the stuff I used to cram in the Tacoma's meager underseat storage (or in a cardboard box on the back seat in my former F-150).
The all wheel drive system on the truck has proven extremely effective - even while going through some nasty stuff while hunting.
Fuel economy has been adequate so far. It is about the same as my 4-cylinder Tacoma, but the V6 in the Ridgeline is a rocket compared to the grossly underpowered Taco. I still wish there was a smaller more fuel efficient truck available in the United States. I also mourn the slow death of the manual transmission. I have only a minuscule amount of hope that the someday Ford Ranger will fill that void.
The drop in fuel economy at the end of the graph below shows the very real dip that driving at a fairly high rate of speed en route to Wyoming will do - and both directions of the trip were fighting a significant headwind in cold temperatures. It is surprising how much of an impact that makes, even with a vehicle that is fairly aerodynamic (for a truck). The graph also shows actual calculated mileage; indicated is typically around 1MPG more optimistic.
The only maintenance the truck has needed so far has been a simple oil change. I suspect I'll be due for rear differential fluid and maybe even transmission fluid early in 2018 - but I'll let the Maintenance Minder advise what is needed. Thankfully, most of the routine maintenance looks brainlessly simple.
My RTS trim level is no longer offered by Honda which is sad as I really saw it as the sweet spot for what I wanted. I'm not terribly interested in a lot of extra doodads and much prefer cloth interior over leather. I do wonder how the seats will hold up over time as they seem to take stains a little more than I would have hoped.
In short, the Honda Ridgeline is a great vehicle for what it is and doesn't pretend to be anything it is not.
The other thing Junkyard Planet made me wonder was what has happened to all my previous vehicles. Likely my Tacoma is still trucking around. Given the troubles I had with 2003 F-150, I'm less sure about that one. Thinking back, I'm sure many of the vehicles I used to own have been reclaimed and turned into new things - maybe even my current Ridgeline! (highly unlikely)
If I have any criticism of Junkyard Planet, it was that it felt a little dated. It came out in 2013, which was just after the global economic meltdown was getting into full recovery. Additionally, China seems to be changing weekly. I couldn't help but think that things had changed since it was originally written.
I also wish there was more information on Africa. Adam Minter is a journalist based in Asia, so the focus makes sense. But I suspect some of the environmental issues he writes about are much worse in Africa. Although, as he points out, versus what alternative?
The sections on plastic recycling and electronic waste I found depressing. I've experienced this before. There are, frankly, no good solutions for many of us in the developed world. Recycling may be messy in the developing world, but it also looks more complete.
Finishing the book, I couldn't help but wonder how long until we start mining landfills for the metals and plastics as raw materials for the next generation of "stuff" to saturate our lives. More stuff doesn't improve life, it just clutters it.
While I don't know what my Honda Ridgeline was in a past life, I hope and expect its next life won't come for many years and many miles.
Ever since then, I've always tried to save metal for recycling, if for no other reason than an excuse to visit the metal scrapyard.
At times this leaves me feeling like a meth-head. I had a moderate amount of aluminum I was selling when the fuel pump on my F-150 went belly up. Standing in line with the people selling stolen water pipes and small bits of wire was an experience. It was not fun, after getting my cash, waiting for the tow truck to show up as it got darker and darker. They typically don't put scrap yards in the best neighborhoods.
When moving to my current house, I had piles of metal to be recycled, including the body of an MGB I had to cut up with a tiger saw. This was no meth-head operation, but quite the undertaking fitting all that steel in the bed of my Toyota Tacoma.
So when I heard about the book Junkard Planet by Adam Minter, I knew I had to read it. It is a fascinating look at the scrap and recycling industry, primarily the money and trade between the US and Western Europe to and from Asia. This is a must-read for anybody who has ever marveled at the piles of metal at the scrap yard, or the idealistic neighborhood recycler.
My original plan was to write either a 10,000 mile review of the Ridgeline, or a 1-year review. But 10,000 passed a while ago while driving through South Dakota. And yes, I do use the awful "Eco" button when on the interstate for long trips. It is OK on the interstate, but it makes the vehicle nearly intolerable to drive any other time.
When I reread my previous Original and Six-Month reviews, they still cover my experience with the Ridgeline extremely well. In the year and 13,000 miles that I've had the vehicle, I have really gotten to like this vehicle. There are a few quirks, but I've yet to see any vehicle that doesn't have them. Vehicle design must be an exercise in trade-offs. While initially I was somewhat neutral on the appearance of the truck, even that has grown on me.
There are, predictably, a lot of piddly complaints which can be read on sites like the Ridgeline Owners Club. Like most of the message boards I read, I'm a chronic lurker there. People love to complain online. But with few exceptions - it is just noise and this happens with just about every vehicle made ... ever. The two biggest complaints I've seen are a lack of radio knobs - but my trim level has radio knobs thank-you-very-much. However I rarely use them since controlling it from the steering wheel is easier. Having my dogs on the radio wallpaper is a great feature to have.
The other complaint is how far the back doors open. To be fair, I don't think any person has ever sat in the back seat in my truck. But the doors open wide enough to easily get a double rifle case in front of OR UNDER the back seat. That last option is great as it frees up so much more storage space for other things when I go on road trips.
And my Ridgeline has been on a few road trips. About 30% of the miles on my Ridgeline have been hunting road trips. The amount of stuff I can fit in it is vastly superior to my former Tacoma. In addition to interior room, the Ridgeline has a voluminous "trunk" under the bed that easily holds all the stuff I used to cram in the Tacoma's meager underseat storage (or in a cardboard box on the back seat in my former F-150).
The all wheel drive system on the truck has proven extremely effective - even while going through some nasty stuff while hunting.
Fuel economy has been adequate so far. It is about the same as my 4-cylinder Tacoma, but the V6 in the Ridgeline is a rocket compared to the grossly underpowered Taco. I still wish there was a smaller more fuel efficient truck available in the United States. I also mourn the slow death of the manual transmission. I have only a minuscule amount of hope that the someday Ford Ranger will fill that void.
The drop in fuel economy at the end of the graph below shows the very real dip that driving at a fairly high rate of speed en route to Wyoming will do - and both directions of the trip were fighting a significant headwind in cold temperatures. It is surprising how much of an impact that makes, even with a vehicle that is fairly aerodynamic (for a truck). The graph also shows actual calculated mileage; indicated is typically around 1MPG more optimistic.
The only maintenance the truck has needed so far has been a simple oil change. I suspect I'll be due for rear differential fluid and maybe even transmission fluid early in 2018 - but I'll let the Maintenance Minder advise what is needed. Thankfully, most of the routine maintenance looks brainlessly simple.
My RTS trim level is no longer offered by Honda which is sad as I really saw it as the sweet spot for what I wanted. I'm not terribly interested in a lot of extra doodads and much prefer cloth interior over leather. I do wonder how the seats will hold up over time as they seem to take stains a little more than I would have hoped.
In short, the Honda Ridgeline is a great vehicle for what it is and doesn't pretend to be anything it is not.
The other thing Junkyard Planet made me wonder was what has happened to all my previous vehicles. Likely my Tacoma is still trucking around. Given the troubles I had with 2003 F-150, I'm less sure about that one. Thinking back, I'm sure many of the vehicles I used to own have been reclaimed and turned into new things - maybe even my current Ridgeline! (highly unlikely)
If I have any criticism of Junkyard Planet, it was that it felt a little dated. It came out in 2013, which was just after the global economic meltdown was getting into full recovery. Additionally, China seems to be changing weekly. I couldn't help but think that things had changed since it was originally written.
I also wish there was more information on Africa. Adam Minter is a journalist based in Asia, so the focus makes sense. But I suspect some of the environmental issues he writes about are much worse in Africa. Although, as he points out, versus what alternative?
The sections on plastic recycling and electronic waste I found depressing. I've experienced this before. There are, frankly, no good solutions for many of us in the developed world. Recycling may be messy in the developing world, but it also looks more complete.
Finishing the book, I couldn't help but wonder how long until we start mining landfills for the metals and plastics as raw materials for the next generation of "stuff" to saturate our lives. More stuff doesn't improve life, it just clutters it.
While I don't know what my Honda Ridgeline was in a past life, I hope and expect its next life won't come for many years and many miles.
Friday, December 1, 2017
This Year Looks Like It Might End Weirder Than It Started
Last year, Jalopnik published a story titled: Remember that time Terry Gross from NPR’s Fresh Air got banned from drag racing?
The original version as I remember it is gone, replaced with an abbreviated one - as too many people failed to notice it was Filed to:SATIRE.
This was hilarious on so many levels. First, the idea of Terry Gross being a hard-core drag racer. The pictures in the article. The language in the article. That it had to be changed because people read it as fact. That people can't separate fact from fiction anymore (I'm looking at you, John Stewart).
Remember that time Garrison Keillor was accused of sexual misconduct? File to:???
It is now December - a time when much outdoor life goes into a state of dormancy. At least this happens most of the time. It isn't the first year ever when a few trees have kept their leaves into December, but the amount of green left is staggering.
Honeysuckle is often the first thing to green up in the spring, and is late to lose its leaves. I'm quite sure if left on its own, honeysuckle would take over the whole world. But remaining green into December is unusual ... is weird.
As the green honeysuckle continues is fight against the normal order of things, the news airwaves have been filled with accusations and admissions of sexual misconduct, harassment, etc.
Much of this, I'm not surprised about.
A former Saturday Night Live star? -Al Franken. I'm not surprised.
A priveledged face for TV? -Al Franken (wait, I already used him). -Matt Lauer. I'm not surprised.
A power-grabbing politician? -Al Franken (wait, I already used him). -John Conyers. I'm not surprised.
A movie actor? -Al Franken (wait, I already used him). -Kevin Spacey. I'm not surprised.
A stand-up comic? -Al Franken (wait, I already used him). -Louis CK. I'm not surprised.
The list is long, and will get longer. My list above is a bit unfair to Al Franken, but anybody who sees this shocking is too wrapped up in Franken's cult of personality. Ever since moving from Stuart Smalley to a "real" politician, he's grown to be the darling of the media. Everybody (justifiably) throws rotten fruit at Harvey Weinstein, Steven Seagal and Donald Trump. Too many people - especially in the media - point to Al Franken and then say, "but..."
Sadly, most of these recent accusations are true. Sadly, some of these are not.
When I heard Garrison Keillor was accused of improper behavior, I first hoped it was filed to satire. Part of me still hopes it falls in the latter categorization. I've never been a real fan of Garrison Keillor. I would listen to A Prairie Home Companion mostly because it happened to be on when the radio was on and tuned to NPR. The movie A Prairie Home Companion was surprisingly good. Poetry seems a bit pointless, but I was aware of Writers Almanac. Lake Wobegon was sometimes amusing, but often not.
What little I know about Garrison Keillor describes him as a bit of a curmudgeon and a loaner. His personal life does appear to have been rather sticky at times though.
And therein lies the rub. How many of these recent accusations are an awkward situation taken beyond the context? A childish act, gone too far in a moment without thinking? It is impossible in the current atmosphere for anyone to question these situations once they become public. But I have seen a perfectly innocent conversation turn to offense - due solely to a poor choice of words. Do intentions matter?
Outright lies will probably eventually come out. But often too late for the accused. And the grey area of awkwardness, a tumbling of the rhythm of life, words escaping before time to realize they may be interpreted not-as-intended. I defy anybody to not think back and wince.
"Just as ancient insects that led full productive lives disappeared without a trace, and those that bumbled into amber and died are still around in tangible form, so our personal failures remain, sharp and clear, long after the day-to-day routine and minor victories fade into nothingness."
-Neil Steinberg
The court of public opinion is one mean-assed, uncontrolled, bastardly mirror with view that doesn't always match reality.
So the accusers should have their say. Garrison Keillor should be given his due. And while I'm much less surprised by the Al Franken accusations - he is owed the same.
Now is the winter of our discontent.
The honeysuckle will eventually lose all its leaves and go dormant. I'm less sure what will happen to the remainder of the rest of this weird year.
The original version as I remember it is gone, replaced with an abbreviated one - as too many people failed to notice it was Filed to:SATIRE.
This was hilarious on so many levels. First, the idea of Terry Gross being a hard-core drag racer. The pictures in the article. The language in the article. That it had to be changed because people read it as fact. That people can't separate fact from fiction anymore (I'm looking at you, John Stewart).
Remember that time Garrison Keillor was accused of sexual misconduct? File to:???
It is now December - a time when much outdoor life goes into a state of dormancy. At least this happens most of the time. It isn't the first year ever when a few trees have kept their leaves into December, but the amount of green left is staggering.
Honeysuckle is often the first thing to green up in the spring, and is late to lose its leaves. I'm quite sure if left on its own, honeysuckle would take over the whole world. But remaining green into December is unusual ... is weird.
As the green honeysuckle continues is fight against the normal order of things, the news airwaves have been filled with accusations and admissions of sexual misconduct, harassment, etc.
Much of this, I'm not surprised about.
A former Saturday Night Live star? -Al Franken. I'm not surprised.
A priveledged face for TV? -
A power-grabbing politician? -
A movie actor? -
A stand-up comic? -
The list is long, and will get longer. My list above is a bit unfair to Al Franken, but anybody who sees this shocking is too wrapped up in Franken's cult of personality. Ever since moving from Stuart Smalley to a "real" politician, he's grown to be the darling of the media. Everybody (justifiably) throws rotten fruit at Harvey Weinstein, Steven Seagal and Donald Trump. Too many people - especially in the media - point to Al Franken and then say, "but..."
Sadly, most of these recent accusations are true. Sadly, some of these are not.
When I heard Garrison Keillor was accused of improper behavior, I first hoped it was filed to satire. Part of me still hopes it falls in the latter categorization. I've never been a real fan of Garrison Keillor. I would listen to A Prairie Home Companion mostly because it happened to be on when the radio was on and tuned to NPR. The movie A Prairie Home Companion was surprisingly good. Poetry seems a bit pointless, but I was aware of Writers Almanac. Lake Wobegon was sometimes amusing, but often not.
What little I know about Garrison Keillor describes him as a bit of a curmudgeon and a loaner. His personal life does appear to have been rather sticky at times though.
And therein lies the rub. How many of these recent accusations are an awkward situation taken beyond the context? A childish act, gone too far in a moment without thinking? It is impossible in the current atmosphere for anyone to question these situations once they become public. But I have seen a perfectly innocent conversation turn to offense - due solely to a poor choice of words. Do intentions matter?
Outright lies will probably eventually come out. But often too late for the accused. And the grey area of awkwardness, a tumbling of the rhythm of life, words escaping before time to realize they may be interpreted not-as-intended. I defy anybody to not think back and wince.
"Just as ancient insects that led full productive lives disappeared without a trace, and those that bumbled into amber and died are still around in tangible form, so our personal failures remain, sharp and clear, long after the day-to-day routine and minor victories fade into nothingness."
-Neil Steinberg
The court of public opinion is one mean-assed, uncontrolled, bastardly mirror with view that doesn't always match reality.
So the accusers should have their say. Garrison Keillor should be given his due. And while I'm much less surprised by the Al Franken accusations - he is owed the same.
Now is the winter of our discontent.
The honeysuckle will eventually lose all its leaves and go dormant. I'm less sure what will happen to the remainder of the rest of this weird year.
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