easily shocked visitors, like Queen Victoria.
… Or Utah legislators.
September, 2024
But maybe Utah's legislature is onto something here. Consider the following two statements from father to 15-year-old son:
Option1:Son, your art projects are well and good. But they won't make money. I want you to learn hard skills. After your school homework, you will research virtual private networks. That will teach you how the Internet works.Option2:Son, love your art project. Keep going on those. But I don't want you learning about virtual private networks. They are sometimes called VPNs. That's V as in Victor, P as in Peter, N as in North. Those are used by sinners to view mammalian behaviors on Web sites from which our legislators protect us here in Utah.
See how that would work? Utah would raise tech savvy kids.
(image courtesy of Gemini)
Speaking of impediments, the Microsoft Surface tablet is pretty good. It runs an operating system for which most software exists. A detachable keyboard turns the machine into a reasonable proposition. The drag: it's just a bit heavier than an iPad. Not enough to make a difference in your backpack. But hoisting that tablet aloft with just your non-dominant hand in bed, while observing mammalian behaviors is a turn-off. The experience does motivate the 12lb curlies every morning, though. Motivation is everything.
| Engaged | Disengaged | |
|---|---|---|
| Towards Me | Decrease speed | Resume |
| Towards Front | Increase speed | Set speed |
Say, I had to disengage the cruise control, because I had to slow down. Now I want to get back to the speed to which the control was set before. Do I push the lever forward, or towards me? It's a 50/50 chance. If I do it wrong, I'll set the cruise to the current, slow speed, rather than resuming. How to remember?
The clue lies in the 50/50 chance. It's like a fair one-armed bandit. To do it again you pull the lever. That's what I have to do with a mind like mine. That's how I roll. Fortunately, hours of riding allow me to figure these methods out.
The most counter intuitive part of riding a bike or bicycle is counter steering. At speed (>~12mph, a bit higher on a motorccle), you have two methods for turning left or right. Leaning your body is one. The more interesting is countersteering.
To go left, you turn the handlebar to the right, and vice versa. Entirely unintuitive, yet amazingly effective. For this turn—wanting to left—you can accomplish the turning by pushing the left handle forward, or pulling the right handle back. Do try it on a bicycle once you gathered steam. Do it very gently, you'll feel the effect instantly.
The physics behind it has a number of explanations. One is complex, having to do with precise force analysis that includes the friction of the road, and slipless roll. The other is a bit easier, but still weird: the behavior of gyroscopes. You can get an animated schematic explanation, an Aussie with a gorgeous accent demonstrating, or a drier treatise on wikipedia. You control a heavy motorcycle, say a BMW K1600B, literally with the strength of three fingers.
A related effect has the bike truly wanting to stay upright and stable at speed. But…, at near zero speed, gravity, and all the rest of it work entirely against you in every possible way. At crawling, the bike is allergic to any sudden change. As am I. And so, exiting a restaurant driveway to turn right into a road, I was only just barely rolling, looking left. The road was empty, so I figured I'd go without the full stop. Then I saw a car leave the same parking lot through another driveway up-road also via a left turn.
I could have advanced just fine, but I decided to stop instead, applying the brake quickly. Remember that allergy against sudden change? This was one such maneuver. The bike leaned left a bit, to an angle just beyond what I could hold. Been there, done that before. You just have to let go. Spread your legs to straddle the bike as it lays down to rest, like a cow, chewing its cud.
I stepped over the resting behemoth, and contemplated the piece of iron. A pickup truck with two men had also finished their meal, and tried to exit into the street behind me. The guys got out, mid-fifties.
We set the hunk straight, and all left happily. Me more than the two guys. Because before my trip I spent a good day installing crash bars on the bike. Tedious job, for various bike-architectural reasons. But:
You might ask a similar question of truckers: Where do they sleep?You probably know this: they don't sleep in a Days Inn. They sleep in the cab of their trucks.
OK. But here is what I observed: they seem to cluster into a pile. Even if there is space to leave a gap. You would think they wanted some space from each other. Being guys and all.
Here is my theory. Truckers experience deep roots to early humanoids. Many dangers loomed for those. Saber tooth tigers, the occasional wolly mammoth, and neighboring clumps of humanoids jealous of their beautifully decked out cave. Paintings on the walls, and such.
Truckers have no worries about tigers. But there are always DOT reps who might wish to see the load manifest. Or highway patrol officers curious about the truck's tachograph.
Huddling tightly is just safer. Then and now!
Where Do Truckers Sleep?
A grad student I worked with went home one summer, and was invited by her much younger sibling to be their Show-and-Tell in elementary school. One of the pressing questions the student had to field was:
Where do graduate students go to the bathroom?
