Modern pickup trucks remind me of prehistoric megafauna that we only know from the fossil record. They're weird looking. They're ponderously large. They eat a lot. They're doomed but don't know it. Like any megafauna, they'll kill you if you get too close. They're the bulls. The roads and streets are their china shop.
I've spent my entire lifetime observing the accelerating pace of consumerism as the driving force of global destruction. And maybe we're just like mold on a piece of fruit, living the high life while we destroy our home, because that's our role as decomposers. Our attempts at space flight are the equivalent of launching our spores. Unfortunately, no good fruit lies within a lifetime's travel of our feeble capabilities. Or maybe fortunately.
We might have choices that molds do not. Some physicists contend that we are made up of particles set in motion by the Big Bang, incapable of altering our trajectories. Some biologists contend that we are hardwired to think and act in certain ways. By that reckoning, only some of us are hardwired to believe in predestination; all of us are subject to it.
Those of us whose trajectory and hard wiring allow for the idea that we could alter course from the doom to which we have set ourselves will act in ways that we believe will establish a pattern for a better way of life. Everyone else will ignore us. Whatever is going to happen will do it anyway. Que sera, sera.
As luck would have it, as gasoline prices shoot upward as a result of the incompetence and mindless aggression of the current regime, it's about to be bike commuting season. That will take a lot of financial pressure off until September.
Unfortunately, the spike in diesel prices will drive the cost of firewood up again. It never really recovered from the spike in diesel prices from the pandemic. I don't have the energy to cut three or four cords off of my own land anymore. Poor people's fires are a persistent problem in curbing emissions. Sorry about that. I'll have to quit buying lattes, so I can put that money toward a complete solar makeover. Except I don't buy lattes. I buy green beans and roast them in an old popcorn popper. A frugal and resourceful friend taught me that.
Frugality is terrible for economic growth. Product durability is terrible for economic growth. Manufacturers don't want to make replacement parts. They want to sell complete items. Something has to be new to drive demand. New customers will buy whatever they're told is good at the time that they enter an activity. Existing customers have to be convinced that a new product will make them enjoy the activity more than they do already.
A balanced ecosystem is composed of overlapping cycles of imbalance among related elements, like a surge in seed production leading to a surge in small birds and rodents leading to a surge in predator populations. The system runs on death, but that's just life. As soon as one organism innovated by consuming another one, the food chain was born. The human economy doesn't have to run on death and destruction as much as it does, but it's only natural. Our talent for technology leads to larger imbalances than we can control. Sprinkle with a large amount of negative emotions, heat, and serve.
From the shop windows I get to watch and listen to the vehicles that people leave idling, sometimes for as much as an hour, while everyone bitches about fuel prices. Elections are won and lost on the rising cost of living a wasteful existence. The vast majority of people driving today did not live through the long waiting lines and fuel rationing of the 1973 gas crisis, the one that launched it all. It should have been a wake up call for the ages. Instead it was just a sustained inconvenience to most people, that they were willing to pay their way out of through fuel prices that climbed inexorably from thirty cents a gallon to more than a dollar. Nowadays, we would flip a U-turn in the middle of a crowded expressway to get to a place selling fuel for twice that.
There was every reason to start adopting less petroleum dependent social structures, starting more than 50 years ago. The ten-speed bike boom gained some of its power from the idea that healthy, well-fed people in a peaceful country could propel themselves around and gain both physically and economically. Just about everything in the modern industrial economy was stacked against that, though. Transportation planning centered on moving motor vehicles as rapidly as possible through the plumbing of our streets and highways. Sad experience has shown that traffic always manages to exceed capacity, so that ever-widening roads simply choke with more vehicles, but we're having trouble finding our way out of that trap. Planning principles seem to be shifting gradually. Like all vitally needed progress, it is way too slow.
The thing about living a simple life close to one location is that I don't get to experience much of daily life anywhere else. I do know that the local economy is heavily influenced by the affluence of both seasonal and year-round residents. There are poor people, even homeless people in the area, but also a great many retirees who planned well enough to live comfortably here at least for a time. Maybe some of them find funds running out sooner than they expected, but an awful lot of them seem to maintain their lifestyles pretty well. And the seasonal population includes actual billionaires. Bottom-rung billionaires, but billionaires nonetheless.
While the town is usually quiet in the gap between winter recreation and the real onset of springtime, the quiet times throughout this winter and the technical first days of spring have been ominously deserted. While I did extensive work on a nice late 1990s Olmo and a 2008 Fuji carbon road bike this week, the cash register logged daily totals of $11, 20-something, and at least one day of flat-out zero.
A kids' camp in the area brought in the first installment of their heavily abused mountain bikes. I discussed repair versus replacement options with the guy who dropped them off. Given the shabby quality of low-end and midrange components, comparable replacement for a bike they probably paid about $500 for, more than ten years ago would likely cost at least 20 percent more than that. Maybe they got a better deal, buying through a shop closer to them than we are, that has since gone under. The parts spec was already a bit chintzy. In the same price bracket today, it's much worse. So, while these aren't the nearly immortal bikes of the late 20th and very early 21st century, they're still worth paying a bit to nurse along. Abusive campers would obliterate a cheap mountain bike of today.
Well before the pandemic, bike prices were rising much faster than the general rate of inflation. They soared along with every other price during the pandemic, but by the time that the industry could produce enough units to meet the demand from 2020-'21, that demand was gone. Faced with a surplus, bike companies began dumping as much as they could, but the ones producing primarily meat-powered ones are finding that no one wants them anymore. That's an overstatement, but not by much. The vast majority of consumer dollars seem to be going to the many available e-bikes at competitive prices, enticing buyers who only learn later how abysmal the product support is. We're decades away from a support network for e-bikes as ubiquitous as what motor vehicles enjoy.
AH well. Onward through the fog.
No comments:
Post a Comment