Circuit Riding Again

I consider "wandering" a way of staying in shape. Physically: it counts as light exercise, with a fair amount of walking, and a little running even (just a little). Mentally: one has many opportunities to strengthen mental abilities, some of wnich are simply social, such as knowing bus etiquette and best practice.

For an example of bus etiquette, when someone with a walker or motorized wheelchair needs to get off, the driver has the option to both lower the front of the bus, and to unfold a ramp to the curb. Those wishing to board the bus need to stand back and let those getting off do so first, including if a ramp is deployed. 

A young blond, a male teen, didn’t get that, and the driver had to keep telling him to wait, as the ramp maneuver was still pending. But the teen didn’t get it, seeing the open door and no one in the way, so time to get on right? Wrong. Driver: wait. 

Finally the would-be rider just wandered off, apparently too demoralized by the experience to want to continue it. No bus ride for now. People hate being wrong, especially in public.

Alberta Street, like NW 21st, mirrors SE Division in many ways, with its own Petite Provence (French restaurant) and Salt and Straw (exotic ice cream flavors).

I had a pretty firm objective this time: get pictures of a specific wall mural, one showing an icosahedron in wireframe as an apparent source of teachings, spread by wind. The prayer flag motif in many ways, like in my backyard on TikTok.

On my way back to the Max, on a bus 8 from Alberta Street, I stumbled across a retirement party, in Holladay Park, for one of the first (Type 1) Max trains. People lined up for photo ops inside, and to sign their names to the train’s exterior. 

I asked an official about the planned fate for these particular cars and she wasn’t sure where it’d go next. Something for sleuths to monitor maybe.

I wasn’t the only one engaged in a form of treasure hunting (another form of skills building, involving clue following): Dave went to a postmortem regarding an pre Rose Festival treasure hunt organized by veteran Rose Festival treasure hunters. There’s an official one each year, with published clues coming out each day. These hints are purposely cryptic, yet all point to a specific location: where a plaque is hidden for the winner to find. 

This hunt was unofficial and this time steered hunters to the Mt. Tabor area, which Dave well knows (me too), although he was not the finder in this case.

The treasure hunting game resembles geocaching in large degree. The term “geocaching” was invented by Dave Ulmer, a Tektronix engineer who, in his next chapter, acquired an RV tricked out with bells and whistles I associate with the BizMo (business mobile) design. 

He parked behind the Pauling House that time (soon after Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans) and gave us a tour.  Don stayed in touch, subscribing to Ulmer’s “daily picture” (usually of some deserted wilderness he was parked in) shared by satellite. This was all well before Starlink.

Although I had my 3-ring binder of “bus reading” with me, I found I was more into churning through my own thoughts on this trip. I did some thinking about the public sector and public spaces. There’s a public-private as well as private-public flow, with public metrics suggesting a kind of ambience or groupthink. To some extent, the groupthink varies by city.

Just as radio and TV resulted in the spread of new standards, in terms of accent and the look of one’s kitchen (ideally), so is AI spreading new speech and thought patterns. 

The construction I call “not but” is on the rise. “This was not just a spur-of-the-moment decision, not a random act, but a pre-meditated, carefully planned exercise.” That’s a not-but.  You’ll hear a lot more of this construction on YouTube, as AI continues to take over, not just thumbnails, but audio tracks as well.

Without myself being an AI, I’m nevertheless a natural language processor and somewhat LLM-like in how I continually reweigh my various marbles (presuming I have any; we know we have marbles because they say it’s possible to lose them, or to have too few as in “he didn’t have all his marbles”), so naturally my own speech and thought patterns are being influenced, as I absorb the new vernacular and update my worldviews.

A Wanderer’s Way

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention, if not open with, the therapeutic value of wandering, which is my translation of what a flaneur was up to, observing Paris (say), as it underwent metamorphosis. Or as London underwent industrialization in the age of steam, and then electrification. Or as the Global Village experienced illumination, by means of spectral social media, beginning with radio.

Not that morphing per se is the only phenomenon worth marveling at, awesome though turnover undoubtedly is. Details matter.

In the case, details of my trip were as follows: 

I began with a quick trip down memory lane (figuratively speaking) delving into the courtyard and parking lot area for Cedarhurst Apartments. I used to come here often, for years, as Glenn Stockton (Global Matrix) and Steve Holden (Open Bastion) used to have their respective corner apartments on different floors, each near a respective staircase. Open Bastion also had its own apartment offices for a spell.

I hadn’t planned to make the detour, but a principle of wandering is to keep it semi-unplanned. Have objectives but give yourself permission to change these objectives rather fluidly. Focus on each one as it arises. Some of them will likely be accomplished. Others will prove fleeting.

For example, I started out expecting to make a loop, which I did. Likewise, I started with a strong expectation I’d have lunch at that Hollywood sushi conveyor belt place on my return from St. John’s yet that’s not what happened. I changed my mind. Nor did I make it to St. John’s. Not this time, as it turned out (and that’s fine).

Right at the outset, the 75 passed me by, and just seconds before I’d’ve made it to the stop, but that was all unplanned as I wasn’t trying for a specific bus. I’d consulted no schedule.

So, having just missed a bus, I had some time before the next one. So I ventured into Glenn’s and Steve’s old place. I believe Paul is still there. 

I left by that tunnel I used to frequent, while making a mental note to query about the Hawthorne Theater later, to get more clear on its Masonic past. 

Here’s where I made another impromptu decision: with 8 or so minutes before the next 75 was to arrive, per the bus stop display, I chose to leave the stop and venture into Fred Meyer in search of gum or something, I didn’t even know what. I ended up with some nuts n stuff. 

Half way back to the bus stop, I realize I was sans my binder. No, it wasn’t at the bus stop bench. I must’ve left it at Fred’s after our interesting conversation. Yep. Some running was involved in this segment, to both recover the binder and to not miss the 75. 

Running is good for me, just not too much. Walking is also therapeutic. 

I recommend exploring your environs as a pass time, an activity you’re more likely to have time for if facing old codger-hood, or likewise if enjoying being a teen and cultivating a skillset, such as navigating around town using a mix of public transportation and exercising one’s skills as a pedestrian. 

You may mix in important errands, along with study (bus and train reading). You may reap rewards.

I boarded with the objective of visiting St. John’s, it’s own place north of Portland. But then why not explore NE Alberta instead. I got off at NE 42nd around NE Alberta and walked along it, due west, towards its business section. For a lotta blocks, it’s still residential along both sides.

Alberta starts getting busy around 30th and I enjoyed walking along it, imagining eating here and there, before boarding a 72, and skipping ahead to MLK but while making mental notes of places I’d like to return to, and photograph (I’m taking pictures the whole time). 

Later, waiting for the 6 along MLK is when I noticed The Portland Observer seemed to have gone out of business. But as Gemini later clarified, it had not. That business had simply moved but left some old signage behind. 

Again, upon boarding the 6 I had what proved a fleeting objective: to head to Goose Hollow, maybe catch the Max back to the sushi place in Hollywood. 

But then it didn’t take long for me to realize that if riding the Max train were my objective, then I should get off at the Oregon Convention Center, saving a lot of time. A green line Max was just arriving. 

I was back in Hollywood in short order, yet found myself deciding against grabbing sushi as the 75 stop was right there, next to the Trader Joe’s (which I imagined entering, but then did not). I was enjoying studying and drawing diagrams.

OK, that’s a lot of detail, and yet I’m skipping over many objectives (many around eating) that I entertained but then dropped. I think of this process as “being tickled by temptations” (possibilities) but then usually not getting sidetracked. 

But then what’s the main track vs a side track? I keep deciding that, remaining open to cues, to intuitions..

That’s what I mean by “unplanned”. My friend Ray Simon from Jersey City days is an influence on my practice. His book: In Search of Happenstance. I’m not finding it, but I have his other one, on mischievous marketing.

The overall objective, to have an adventure, is pretty much a given. 

To have an adventure and to study. The point of the binder was to do bus reading of Terry’s and DAF’s papers (an excellent combo) and to draw diagrams on blank white sheets already 3-hole-punched for that purpose. 

I might have other journal entries focusing more on these more metaphysical cogitations — or not.

Rear View Mirror

I was just updating a fellow Wanderer about my adventures diving into the W-Lambert function, too boring for words to a lotta people. 

I admitted to fighting old battles. 

What used to be uphill was my “everyone deserves a nerd cave” standard, as a responsibility of the education system. 

“What system?” you may ask. 

“Exactly” say I. 

However, not having the means to get there doesn’t mean disagreeing on the ends. One Laptop Per Child (OLPC) is old news by this time, yet was a previous obsession of these blogs. Not that every kid has easy access to a laptop by now. We just know that’s a goal.

I’ll quote from my outbox for the rest of this blog post:

"Using Python as a Calculator" I believe is the title of Guido's early tutorial (Guido being Python's inventor, Dutch guy) and it may still be embedded in the documentation somewhere. Yeah, it's still there.

https://docs.python.org/3/tutorial/introduction.html#using-python-as-a-calculator

But he never really meant a graphing calculator, as Python is not indigenously about producing graphical output; that's the job of 3rd party packages for the most part (still a part of Greater Python, but not "core" Python exactly, which is what Guido was wanting to teach at that juncture).

But my emphasis is a little different: actually replacing the scientific calculator as the classroom device of choice, or should we even have a classroom, when a personal workspace is the better choice? Like a nerd cave. 

[ Why "go to class"? Well, lectures in person still have a point I guess. But crowding a lot of desktop or even laptop computers into a rank and file arrangement... really? I know the corporate types like the bullpen architecture for supervisory reasons... I say everyone deserves a nerd cave minimum, with plenty of compute, as they say today. ]

So I do go 3rd party and dig into scipy, numpy, matplotlib... all that 3rd party stuff that makes Python popular because powerful. It's not so much the language out of the box that people dig, but the ecosystem that has grown up around it.

https://github.com/4dsolutions/m4w/blob/main/ProductLog.ipynb

The details of this so-called W function, inverse of x * e**x, may be too boring to contemplate (true for most people), however if you scroll down about half way you'll see the graphical calculator-like output I'm talking about; really better than a calculator might do.

I don't really even know to what extent the scientific calculator maintains its grip on contemporary high schoolers. I'm in many ways the product of my past, still fighting yesterday's battles (but hey, I'm learning new stuff in the process, so I wouldn't say I've stagnated entirely, no way jose!).

Another Milestone

:: on my Meta timeline ::

:: random comment, consistent viewpoint ::

:: reassurance ::

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