Apple’s Sixth Watch

I was trying to teach through my computer during Apple’s new ipadAir and Series 6 Watch event yesterday morning. But it was easy to catch up afterwards given the media’s affinity for AAPL.

How to explain this? I’m a card carrying Apple fanboi, but I’ve passed on the first five watches. Part of the explanation is the Garmin ones I’ve worn instead are so solid. But Garmin aside, I haven’t switched to the Apple Watch for one primary reason—inadequate battery life. Daily charging one more device? No gracias.

Incredibly, not a single media journalist that I’m aware of, not even John Gruber, said anything about the Six’s battery life. The single thing that matters most. Complete crickets. 

A steady stream of words on the blood oxygen sensor, the brighter display, the new bands, the price, but not a word on the most important feature. That’s a serious tech journalism fail.

Dear Tim Apple, the sand in my hourglass is shrinking. Hurry up already because there’s no guarantee I’ll make it Watch X.  

2020 Election Predictions

  • There’s a less than .1% chance Trump pulls the plug before November 3rd. Smart people like the Rajin’ Cajun are letting their fantasies cloud their judgement. Trump is grinding, spewing non-stop hatred for his opponents—Biden, Harris, and Biden-Harris voters. Nothing in his recent behavior suggests anything resembling a capitulation. Nor could he stand being known in history as “The guy who up and quit.” 
  • There’s a 99.9% chance Trump contests a Biden-Harris victory. This deeply depressing description of what’s likely to go down and why is extremely convincing. 

This Is How You Start A Personal Essay

“When I entered the job market, in 2017, I was mistaken for a prostitute.”

Carlyn Ferrari in ‘You Need to Leave Now Ma’am’.

“I learned to present a highly curated version of myself. I smiled. I made small talk. I exchanged pleasantries. I suppressed the urge to remind colleagues of my expertise during meetings, knowing that my tone or dissenting opinion would be perceived as angry, intimidating — or worse — insubordinate.

I listened as my first-generation students and students of color cried in my office and talked about how they felt they didn’t belong. Though it broke my heart, I treasured these visits. I had more in common with these students than my colleagues. Like me, they were brought in to “diversify” the campus. They had no support and neither did I. Every time they spoke their truth, I felt like a fraud for hiding mine.”

Be The Rower

Early one morning last week I cycled indoors because Blanca is injured.* Afterwards I plopped into my desk chair to swat back the day’s first wave of emails. All while looking at the Salish Sea.

A rowing scull suddenly materialized. The solo rower probably launched from OAR’s (Olympia Area Rowing) downtown marina dock. With steady strong strokes, they disappeared as quickly as they appeared. Then, five minutes later, after reaching their appointed turn around, they shot by again heading south back to the dock no doubt.

I thought about the probable outline of the rower’s morning—waking early, driving to the marina, lifting the boat from its rack, being on the water at dawn, and rowing a long ways on beautiful glassy water with real purpose. And as required for all Pacific Northwesterners, stopping for the daily latte on the way home.

Then I thought about the rest of the rower’s day and despite everything—the ‘rona, the impending forest fire smoke, the faux electronic schooling, the negative national politics—I bet they had at least a decent, if not good, if not great day. How could they not with that kind of start?

Be the rower. Wake up early. And move. Outside**. Walk, bike, swim, run, paddle, row, skate. With someone or alone. Add some caffeine. Then try to have a bad day. I dare you.

* long sordid story starring a real duffus

**once the fire smoke apocalypse is over

Sports Utility Vehicles

IHS Markit forecasts that SUVs will make up half of all U.S. car sales this year for the first time, strengthening further to 54 percent of sales by 2025.

“SUVs are a monument to a broader American failure that has seen pedestrians and cyclists forsaken for endless miles of road building, with non–car users forced to push what Miller calls “beg buttons” to pause traffic to enter roads that should be egalitarian public spaces.

SUVs . . . not only bring a stew of pollution and an element of fear to those attempting to traverse roads on foot or bike—they are also fundamentally inefficient. ‘You are taking a 200-pound package, a human, and wrapping it in a 6,000-pound shipping container,’ he said. ‘For some reason we think that is a good way to move through a city. If Amazon used that rationale it would be out of business in a week.'”

 

I Miss Tracy Austin

Serena is about to get bounced from the US Open. I think. By Tsvetana Pironkova a 5’11” Bulgarian.

As with the men, women’s professional tennis is now all about power. Everyone is tall and hella strong like Pironkova.

As the game speeds up, people of average height are being squeezed out.

A similar phenomenon is happening in men’s professional golf. Most of the top players are hitting bombs off the tee.

Power’s alright, but I miss drop shots, spin serves, and super long rallies. And watching bombers hit driver-short iron into par fives gets old fast.

And get off my yard!

Postscript—Never count Serena out until the final point.