Deliver Us From....Delivery

© Zencomputershop.com

This Sunday is the "big game," and we are guaranteed as Americans to have pizza and other food delivery drivers scrambling to satiate us as we gather at parties to sit in front of the huge television we had delivered just the other day to make the sports spectacle all the more spectacular. Lately, though, it seems that "delivery season" has stretched to encompass the entire calendar year, and that should stir some unease at the very least.

Our delivery culture has arguably made us more isolated and dependent, physically weaker, overspent financially, and turned us into hoarders of a sort. It continues if not accelerates the idea that material things are all that matters, all that gives us comfort and joy. It bloats not only our consumption of products, but adds to our waste of energy and other natural resources. We have come to embrace convenience as our social and economic god, above all else.

"Free shipping" encourages mindless binge shopping because we can simply add an item to the shopping cart icon, no muss, no fuss. People who bought this also purchased this, and so we want to keep up with the Joneses. We are slaves to fashion, marketing and advertising, peer influence, and the "influencers" we follow on social media. Strike that. We are shamed by those manipulative factors.

My own home looks more like a warehouse these days, in part to my deceased mother's and father's belongings that we relocated to our house from their storage lockers. Still, we seem to accumulate more boxes almost weekly from purchases my spouse makes online. That is not to say she is impulsive. Neither of us spends much on material goods beyond what we need. We tend to "upgrade" sporadically. Despite our best intentions, we are tripping over Amazon containers.

Let us think for a moment about all that extra packaging that goes into delivery, most of it disposable, too often like the products inside them. We tell ourselves we can re-use the boxes, but are defeated in trying to strip off all the tape and labels and barcodes. In the end we often just dump them in the recycling bin if we are lucky enough to have recycling services. Our food orders come in styrofoam, plastic, or maybe cardboard boxes, all inside a trash-worthy plastic bag. Wasteful, even as we are laughing at the new handheld gadget that comes in a cubic foot box.

Perhaps the scariest part of our obsession with delivery is that virtually all of the vehicles used to bring things to our homes are fossil-fuel dependent. Maybe some couriers employ electric cars, or bicycle messengers, but the range of both are geographically small and microscopic respectively. Delivery drones have not become commonplace despite promises to the contrary, but I for one think that is a good thing. I loathe the prospect of a future full of the incessant whining of tiny rotors from drones passing overhead.

The growth of delivery services has become almost exponential. Restaurant food delivery alone is becoming the norm, though ironically restaurants still call such customers "guests." Options like Grubhub, DoorDash, and now UberEats make it uncomfortably easy to never leave your home or apartment except, maybe, to commute to and from work. One can see the day where Uber and Lyft are transporting more goods than they are human passengers.

We cannot, of course, ignore the social ramifications of delivery. The only way we can deliver ideas, sentiments, passion, and other vital currencies of society to each other, powerfully, is in-person. Conversation has been replaced with keystrokes. We are allowing corporations to have the only voice, the only authority, in our lives. We meekly accept the invasion of our privacy as a logical consequence of convenience, individualized marketing on Facebook as the price we pay for our otherwise anonymous participation in the economy. Oh, we complain about it. We mourn the closing of our favorite bookseller, hardware store, bakery, and other local businesses, but fail to see how our shopping habits led to their demise.

We are also up-in-arms over thieves that steal the packages off our porches, but now we have spyware for that....The snowball of technology keeps rolling, right over us as we lie listlessly on the couch, with Netflix and Hulu, the new delivery streams for media. Maybe we need to re-think this. Maybe we....Excuse me, I believe I just heard the doorbell.

Driving? Then Just Drive

© Autobidmaster.comMy wreck was not this bad, but still....

I was going to write about this even before my minor one-car accident, but that event just served to drive the lesson home in a most painful way. When you are behind the wheel, the only thing you should be doing is driving. Nothing else. Absolutely zero distractions period. I drove our 2002 Saturn SL into a rocky ditch at about twelve miles per hour because I was fiddling with the air conditioning buttons. I was lucky. I almost rolled it, but didn't panic and gently maneuvered back onto the roadway. Still, the car suffered enough damage to alignment that it would have been over $3,500 to get it repaired; and that did not include both right side doors. No injuries, just a bruised ego, but I can write-off the rest of my summer now as the car is totaled.

I am never that guy. Ever. I don't eat or drink while my vehicle is moving. Heck, lately I don't even have the radio on. I certainly don't text, or even answer my cell unless I am parked or at a stop light. I don't put on make-up or comb my hair (what little is left of it, getting grayer by the second after this incident). My full attention is on the road in front of me, with occasional glances in the rear view mirror. I drive defensively, fully anticipating that every other vehicle around me is driven by a maniac, idiot, or simply oblivious operator. I leave plenty of space between myself and the car ahead, stop well behind them at intersections, and always use my turn signal. I do everything in my power to insure my safety, and the safety of others. Except on Thursday, June 27.

I was in Cheyenne Mountain State Park, making my rounds of the restroom buildings in search of moths attracted to the lights the night before. The day was heating up quickly, and my last stop was at the bottom of a steep, winding road into one of the campgrounds. On the way back out, I decided to turn on the A/C. It did not feel like any improvement, so as I crept back up the road at no more than the designated fifteen mile per hour speed limit, I looked down to see what buttons might make a nice breeze happen. Looking back up it was already too late. The car had missed the curve and over the embankment I went. Camera, cooler, and backpack all went tumbling against the right passenger doors. There was the sound of crunching plastic as the exterior of the doors cracked, and an unsettling scraping sound as the undercarriage skipped over the large rocks in the ditch.

I got the car back to a parking lot and made an inspection. The passenger doors looked really ugly, but aside from some scratches underneath, things seemed remarkably ok. I was not even leaking any fluids. It did become apparent that something was dreadfully wrong as I drove out of the park, though. The car, left to its own devices, swerved to the right. Hard.

My wife accompanied me to the mechanics she has trusted the car to before I inherited it, and we got the results of their assessment the next morning. It would take more than our free lifetime realignment guarantee to get the car driving straight again. Several bent parts quickly escalated repair costs into the stratosphere. We simply don't have that kind of money to throw at an elderly automobile. It appears we will manage a whopping $150 for it at the local wrecking yard. There is not enough metal in it to warrant a bigger payout.

Let's get back to the moral of the story: Any kind of distraction while operating a motor vehicle can kill you, literally or financially. It can kill other people. It can shake your confidence to its core. There is no possible way there can be a good outcome from multitasking on the road. Something, or someone, is going to suffer, probably permanently. You are using up your nine lives every time you attempt to do anything other than look at the asphalt and other vehicles and pedestrians and bicyclists and motorcyclists and wildlife and stray pets and traffic signs and signals and....You get the picture. It is crazy out there in traffic, and even when there is no traffic. You have to assume something could go wrong at any time and be prepared to act in a preventive fashion. You cannot do that if you are having a phone conversation, taking a bite out of your burger, or even turning to look at your passenger. Eyes on the road. Please, I'm begging. Don't be like me on June 27.

Totaled

$3,000+ to bang out hail damage to the Saturn in 2004

We have hail storms here in Colorado. They are a fact of life that instills fear in every car dealership in town. Right now we are in the aftermath of one of the worst storms of that sort that we have seen in recent years. What I cannot fathom, though, is how a vehicle can be defined as "totaled" by such an event. We need a new definition for what constitutes a total loss.

This is a relatively new concept for me. Remember, I have not even driven a car for most of my life, and still do not enjoy doing so. It is merely a means to get from point A to point B. That's why they call it a vehicle. Until recently, my idea of "totaled" was that the vehicle had been in a collision or other kind of wreck and was completely inoperable, or at least unsafe to drive. Apparently I was wrong.

Ok, so my wife and I did get a good deal on our recent purchase of a 2015 Hyundai Elantra as a result of a previous hail storm; but the dealership was apparently obligated to hammer out the dings before turning it over to us. Is the cosmetic shell of an automobile really that valuable? A pelting of hail can result in diminishing the value of the entire vehicle, engine, drive train, wheels, interior, and all, to the point that is "totaled?" Really?

No wonder our collective auto insurance rates go through the roof. No wonder you see people driving rusted cars or cars with dents they haven't bothered to repair. When you assign such ludicrous value to what is arguably the least important part of the entire object, it forces the owner into limited choices.

My in-laws recently had their SUV broadsided by a deer. The trauma of the encounter was bad enough, but the damage, barely even perceptible unless you look closely, or in the right light, was estimated at $3,800. Wait, this just in: $5,000 to pound it out. Are you kidding me?

The same kind of logic, and I use the word loosely here, applies to agriculture. As consumers, we have become intolerant of imperfections in the cosmetic appeal of fruits and vegetables. At least that is what agri-business tells us. Maybe it is so, but I have been known to bite into blemished apples; and sometimes that orange that looks perfectly fine on the outside is rotten on the inside. What I find truly rotten is waste. We are wasting our emotions, energy, and money on things that are trivial.

A vehicle is an inanimate object (at least until you turn the ignition), but men especially treat it like a living, breathing member of the family. In my neighborhood, some men spend more time on their cars than they spend with their wives and children. That I find appalling. Sure, we depend on our cars to get to and from employment, family that is far away, for trips to the grocery and the doctor and such. Still, maintenance should be minimal, and there are professionals who usually know more about your car than you do. Take a walk to the park with your kids and play catch for crying out loud.

Our society needs to take a hard look at how we relate to transportation anyway. The bus is not the horror most people think it is. Neither is the subway on most days. We need to build walkable neighborhoods, live closer to where we work and play, and start demanding some degree of accountability from the auto industry. Require emissions tests at a federal level. Work to eliminate noise pollution. Remove the stigma from dents and dings, too. Doesn't anyone else find it ironic that industry television advertisements have vehicles driving at excessive speeds, and/or through rugged wilderness terrain, and yet still expect the purchaser to keep it in pristine condition? Please.

I think the bottom line is that we fear judgment from others if we drive a "clunker." As far as I'm concerned, a few mars add character. They tell me you have your priorities straight, that you would rather spend your money on other people than on property. You would rather enrich your life in ways that extend beyond the material. On the other hand, it might also reflect that you, yourself, are in need of financial help, or a better life situation in general. That's ok, too.

Unless your car or truck or van or SUV is a safety threat to you, your passengers, or others on the road, relax.

Two Cars, but at What Cost?

The new Hyundai (foreground) and old Saturn (background)

We had occasion to take our 2002 Saturn in for a check-up last month, and the upshot was that it became clear we needed a newer, safer, more reliable vehicle for my wife to get to and from work, at least by winter when the roads get icier and diceier. The process of purchasing that second car left me feeling both relieved and anxious in ways I was not accustomed.

Heidi, my spouse, became uneasy when the dashboard on the Saturn lit up with a red "ABS" warning. Wow. I had no idea that automobiles even had abs, let alone that they were that important. Apparently, the car had not been doing crunches or sit-ups for awhile. Ok, so we learned that "ABS" stands for "Anti-lock Braking System," and that is a pretty integral part to driving safely. Unfortunately, the Saturn is no longer in production, and neither are many parts for those models still on the road. That includes the ABS. So, we are left with a vehicle that functions incompletely, and hence the need for a newer car.

Heidi really does her homework when it comes to important purchases. She likes to consult Consumer Reports first, and in her research she discovered a handful of models ranking reliable and safe, while still within our price range. We settled on a 2013 Hyundai Elantra advertised at a local car dealership, and went to take a look.

As it turned out, that particular vehicle was still awaiting title transfer and other paperwork from Oregon. Coincidentally, or not, the dealer had another Elantra, this one a 2015 model, damaged in a recent hail storm, that was good to go. It was a rental car in its previous life. It was a little more expensive, but had slightly less mileage, and was a color that we liked much better than the model we had come to see. More questions answered, and a short test drive later, and we were filling out forms. Surprisingly, to me, the last thing we did was write a check for the downpayment.

We wrote two checks, actually, from our separate bank accounts. We have been lazy and, for whatever reason, reluctant to merge our financial records. I think it comes from us both having been single for so long, and reliant only on ourselves for our welfare. We just are not used to the idea of combined incomes. Well, I hardly have an income, and that has led to guilt and frustration for me. This expense, an unforeseen and large amount, pretty much erased my savings. Earlier in the month I had to write a check in the same amount to repay half the advance from the now-terminated contract to do the spider field guide.

I felt like I went from zero to "adulting" in about six seconds. It is an emotion and stress that has not left me. In fact, it has intensified. I am also dealing with a cantankerous father, who will be 91 on August 8, for whom my cousin and myself are trying to finalize legal documents concerning my dad's will, estate, medical directives, and related matters.

The other aspect of a new vehicle purchase that makes me uncomfortable is my personal view that we, collectively as an American society, should be driving less, using less fossil fuels, and relying more on public transportation, pedestrianism, bicycling, and other modes of transit that are healthier for ourselves and the environment. While I like the idea that I now have a vehicle at my own personal disposal, any day regardless of whether my wife is carpooling with a co-worker, I am reluctant to indulge in that luxury.

So, it is a mixed bag of blessings, curses, and unanswered questions that we face in this new automobile. Where are we going to find the money for the payments and the increased insurance premiums? How much longer are we going to have the old Saturn, and what will become of it when it is no longer useful to us? What will we be sacrificing for fuel, repairs, and other expenses? The prospect of having to get a more traditional "job," outside the home, demoralizes me because so few opportunities for employment mesh with my personal values. It may come to that, though, and while it may be another part of "adulting," I don't know how well I would stomach it.

These days, my progress comes in small doses. Avoiding addictions as coping mechanisms, for example. Accomplishing a load or two of laundry, and writing one blog post may be all I can do in a given day. Avoiding the temptation to flee in the old Saturn. That may, ironically, be another victory.

Cash for Clunkers

I try and avoid political hot potatoes on what should be strictly a nature blog, but this government program is aimed at mitigating extravagant fuel consumption, and it also points to a part of human nature that is a bit disturbing.

Even ardent supporters of President Obama’s policies and initiatives seem to be raising eyebrows at this popular program designed to replace “gas-guzzlers” with more fuel-efficient vehicles. One criticism is that the bar is set so low (one needs to only improve their miles per gallon by less than a factor of ten) it is really going to have a negligible effect. An improvement of fifteen or twenty miles per gallon in performance would seem to be a better threshold to qualify for federal funding help.

My criticism has much more to do with our American sense of entitlement to a personal vehicle. Why are my tax dollars being used to subsidize your car? I should at least be allowed to borrow it now and then if I have a financial stake in it. Never mind that I don’t drive (I can, I have a license, but I find it so nerve-wracking as not to want to bother), it is the principle of taking from the collective community to give to the individual that I find offensive.

President Obama would have been far wiser to use those funds to greatly expand public transit across the nation, including commuter rail lines. His reluctance to do so points out how pathologically isolated we have become. We can no longer tolerate “others” on the bus ride to the office, let alone any other destination. Even if we do climb aboard a coach, we plug our ears with MP3 players, bury our face in a book, or stare out the window. Whatever happened to striking up a conversation? Flirting? Sharing?

No, we would rather go into financial debt for our very own personal, mobile space than have to deal with “strangers” any more than we already do. I could go on about how some drivers need to be taken off the road no matter what kind of vehicle they are behind the wheel of, or how distracted, sleep-deprived, and angry the average operator of a car has become, but mostly I am simply saddened by our collective disdain for interacting with each other in public.

Tomorrow I take the bus, like every weekday morning, from South Deerfield to the UMass campus in Amherst. I will enjoy joking and conversing with the fine ladies and gentlemen that share that commute. I encourage you to explore your own transit options and make the most of them, both economically and socially.