Another Day in the Life of an Astronaut Nomad

Hah hah, I'd left Vivaldi looking through a Polish VPN so when I got to editing my own blog, I had to read about cookies, in Polish no less. I let Blogger lay its eggs (it's not like I'm allergic to em).

The picture won't win any awards. Some pro photographers were on the bridge with me, with expensive cameras. I was doing my usual point and shoot. I did walk almost to the first arch, from the St. Johns side, pretty close to Wildwood on the other side.

I could play up how whimsical this all was, me taking the 75 from near my house to this spectacular vista, just for a few photos. In actuality, though, it had been in long in the planning. Seeing Wildwood proved catalyzing. The last time I came with RB (another Wanderer) to check out the Naga statue.

And of course the water towers.

Coming home, I took the 75 only as far as the Lombard Transit Center, where I made the smooth transition to a Green Line Max, just then due. At this point I started fumbling with my iPhone and not-Apple (yet compatible) earbuds, starting with some techno dub, then transitioning to Tim Dillon, a Saturday morning comedian (like cartoons!) I sometimes sample, to feel the pulse of the nation.

From Moda Center I switched to Red Line, but only after walking east to the Oregon Convention center.

I closed my Exercise ring (green) with all the walking, which is part of the objective. This is what flaneurs are all about: wandering. It's a passtime accessible to seniors such as myself, still nimble enough to use public transit (with a senior discount). I also still drive a private car.

Speaking of private cars, most inexpensive gas anywhere around here is at a nearby Arco, which is always crowded with gas guzzlers like mine (mostly newer), except in the wee hours. Ideally I'd go around 4:30 am, but today I was there around 6:30 am. It was starting to get busy put a found pump 6 available almost as soon as I got there. Not too much over $4 a gallon.

Of course I'm paying attention to global affairs, which maybe makes me a globalist, a demonized category in some vocabs, but I always say there's more than one flavor of any "ist", including nationalist, often conceived of as opposing the globalists for some reason, as if these were mutually exclusive categories. As I was writing to a WILPF lady:

As the fog of war clears, the youngsters are becoming increasingly aware that no one older than them has the right to mandate their death in service of some lost cause. It's not like we won't have countries (we could have thousands), but we won't have to define them in that awkward cattle ranchy way that entails always stoking unnecessary hatred against tourists (visiting consultants, whatever), in the name of self preservation.

I could've said refugees (vs tourist-consultants), but that word doesn't quite capture it either. Gypsies? We're all nomad-astronauts aboard Spaceship Earth, co-spiralling with our power plant (Sun) around the galaxy (Milky Way).