Our gens english lit curriculum included:
I never dared to be radical when young
For fear it would make me conservative when old.
–Robert Frost ‘Ten Mills,’ A Further Range, 1936
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We got this call from an old friend in the Valley where we used to live, asking if we know of anyone who might help a 15-year-old student find a place to live. He was accepted at, and had already done a year at a STEM magnet school, here in Portland, Maine, and needed some new digs. He and his mom would be traveling to Maine to pick up his gear for the summer and I suggested we have them to dinner to meet the student and find out what’s up.
He shows up well mannered and interesting, and his mom is the last of the red-hot hippies, who is happy to see her son move on from the rather limited options her rural setting provides. Twenty minutes into the meal and my wife, Carrie, and I caucus in the kitchen and agree we will be his host for the year. I warn them that we yell at the TV, we oppose most school curricula, and we are not going to tolerate the latent, 15-year-old, glandular hormonal release we experienced with our own kid.
We are three weeks in and pleased to report “so far so good.” We are tiptoeing around where the private spaces begin and end, and, so far, nary an issue. It’s good to have a young man around the house and I hope he is benefitting from a broader perspective on what his options might be.
We’ll keep you posted on the progress of this reality check.
For all the talk and shows and the endless stream of books, it seems Americans are still not cooking at home. Here’s a neuroscience Ph.D.’s take on the subject. I think she nailed it, and she goes on to develop a short course in intuitive cooking.
There is also the coolest site I have found on Facebook. I subscribe to it, and believe it’s an inspiration for how to keep it short, simple, “tasty” and inspired.
In August, 2016, the Stanford University Center for Advanced Study In Behavior Sciences hosted a lecture. “Climate Change and the Future of Work” was the title, but the lecturers broadened it out to discuss many causal factors, and a lack of imagination, there in the valley, regarding how to develop real solutions. Reps from Google were in the audience when Natasha Iskander, an associate professor of public policy at NYU, went after the limits of “driverless” cars. Well worth the hour invested to kick off this dialogue.
The term “inflection point”, is being used often in the dynamic world of rapid business change. For example, “land line use has reached an inflection point” as we transition to cell phones. Observers of the stock market cite the phrase often in their attempts to predict direction.
I believe we are at many inflection points in the social order, and these points indicate enormous opportunity. When the world is merrily churning along and the social order is fairly well established, and people are more or less content (or the majority is), there is little opportunity for the next gen to distinguish itself, or any meaningful new “think.”
Did I mention that our new houseguest is a high-school student in Portland, Maine’s new magnet STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics) school? Because we signed on as his legal guardians for the duration of his stay, we are privy to the email barrage that emanates from the school. When I read that he has an assignment to begin to imagine the applicability of his “pathway” to problem solving, I was alerted that someone had pre-determined what those problems might be, and, in his case, that he was to consider the problems of the ZIKA virus and coastal flooding.
The very day this assignment was delivered the news was full of the mistake that scientists made by inadvertently killing millions of bees in a broad scale eradication chemical flyover.
When “Zac” (not his real name) got home, I asked him what his goals might be, and how he might envision the applicability of his education for the future.
He knew he was a good coder, loved the engineering of programming, and was acquiring the skills he needed to move on when the time came. OK. But—and here is the fun part—does he believe that there really is a tech fix for the problems of the world? And, how might he order his ideas for what those problems might be?
I have never been able to corroborate the citation that I read years ago, published by the American Academy of Arts & Sciences (read: “lobby group”), that 95 percent of Ph.D. graduates in the hard sciences wind up in defense department activity.
The suggestion was then, and is still argued today, that the Humanities are given short shrift and the war machine plows forward, sucking up the best and the brightest. When I mentioned this to “Zac,” and placed it within the context of the global competition that is always used as the incentive for developing more and better STEM programs, it gave him pause. We pondered how many of the world’s problems might be social, moral, and ethical as opposed to hard wired, or fixable by technical applications. There may not be an app for that!
The saga of the Jefferson Parkway around Denver is so emblematic that we all ought to read and remember how we got this way. Let’s start in 2009, with this Westword article, and then migrate to 2012, in Golden, Colorado.
Breathes there a soul who really, truly, loves a beltway? Maybe, but you are not likely to find one here in this little city in the Rocky Mountain foothills west of Denver. For decades, this has been the community that said no, arguing through courts and politics and whatever other means available that a multi-lane ring road circling Denver—the kind built around cities all across America starting in the 1950s and ’60s—would spell disaster.
Most of Denver’s belt-loop would cruise through open prairie land; here it would cleave the narrow Golden Valley and shatter the community and its residents, and their leaders said so in what became a mantra.
Transportation and planning experts say there probably is no clear answer as to whether beltways have been good or bad. If, in some places, they might have led to urban sprawl, they say that, by opening up undeveloped land and decentralizing downtowns, there are also examples where a belt, by diverting traffic to the edges, kept a thoroughfare from passing straight through a city’s center and ripping it apart. Memphis, for example, embraced the ring road as a way of avoiding an interstate through downtown. Portland, Maine, residents, by contrast, opposed a proposed interstate extension in the 1970s, and the plan was scrapped in favor of public transit. Robert Moses’s dream of a superhighway loop across lower Manhattan went the way of auto tailfins and leaded gas. South Pasadena’s opposition to the 710 freeway in Southern California created a break in the highway that persists to this day.
Denver, by dragging out the beltway fight for decades (the vision was put down in regional plans in the late 1950s) created a kind of third alternative: a belt constructed in stages amid a slow-motion fight that never ended. Just this month, the city of Golden filed a federal lawsuit accusing the Fish and Wildlife Service of improperly allowing federal land for a proposed new section of belt north of the city. “Denver, as a result of doing it piecemeal, may not have had the curse of pushing people out into the exurbs,” said Representative Max Tyler, a Democrat who represents Golden in the state legislature. Some prominent urban planning experts are not so sure about that. Because Denver’s partial belt was built over time, with many assuming that the project would one day be finished, business owners and residents made decisions accordingly.
Said one: “It is an incorrect argument that if you can hold out against that last segment and not complete the ring it will be a bulwark against sprawl, because the sprawl already exists. From a regional planning and transportation perspective it makes more sense to have a full beltway than three-fourths of a beltway.”
Historians say the belt idea itself was essentially a kind of arranged marriage between urban America and the interstate highway system, which began paving its way across the nation late in the Eisenhower administration. The question, which had never before arisen in a country of local and often unpaved roads, was what should happen when the interstate encountered a city. Through the decades since, of richer and poorer and bumper-to-bumper, the answer—a circle—shaped what scores of cities became.
If the extension north of town, called the Jefferson Parkway, is built and the belt thus closes in on both edges—a section already exists just to the south—then local streets, the critics say, could be overwhelmed by drivers creating a de facto belt by driving through Golden to get to the section of belt on the other side.
Golden city officials said that projected traffic numbers on the parkway extension have been inflated to make the project appear more financially viable. “According to our studies, it would not make that much difference to traffic,” said Golden’s mayor, Marjorie Sloan. Bill Ray, a senior policy adviser to the Jefferson Parkway Public Highway Authority, said the future would change with or without Golden’s consent. A growing population, he said, would bring congestion to the little Golden Valley, and the only question was how the resulting traffic would be managed.
The issue was finally resolved by a court in 2015, allowing the development.
We learned nothing from the 70s.
As insidious as the pervasiveness of autos- and our dependency on them is, little mentioned is the gutting that beltways, parkways, ring-roads take on small and mid sized cities they reject. Portland, Maine, for example, is the beneficiary of a partial beltway, one that provides easy access to the Maine Mall, big box stores and a way out of town.
The result: No effective consumer retail within the town. Need a new school outfit for your kid? Off you go to the burbs. That middle distance commute presents the biggest problem for me when I contemplate going carless. I can car share around town, wait for better public transport, (though I will be long gone before it arrives). I can rent a car for a long haul or a truck for a load of loam, but what of the 10-mile, two-hour forced shopping venture? Will on-demand cars really figure out an algorithm that can compute the cost effectiveness of such a trip. I wonder? Maybe you have a thought.