Kids today . . .

Kids today. Sheesh. There, I said it. I’m officially a geezer. Still: Kids today. Sheesh. So I’m out in the garage the other day, fussing with bicycles. That’s what I do. Everybody knows it. People bring their bikes by, and I try to fix them. Most times, I do. Hang on a minute, the phone’s ringing…

Ok, where was I? Oh, yeah: So the other day, this boy stops by. He’s fourteen, maybe fifteen. In high school. Six feet tall, and riding a bike built for someone shorter than me. Fine. What’s the problem? The seat’s loose. Excuse me? The seat is loose. Can you tighten it? Yeah, I can do that. I can do that blindfolded. Without looking, I reach into my wrench drawer and pull out the correct 14mm combination wrench. A couple of good tugs on the seat bolt and she’s snug. Done. That quick. The kid rides off happy and I stand there pondering the fate of kids today. Sheesh.

So yeah, I’ll admit that I can’t operate about 100% of the techno gizmos on the market today. I don’t even have a cell phone. The youth of today are ahead of me there, but: The kid couldn’t scrounge up a wrench to tighten his own seat?  What’s the world coming to? Are we evolving, if that’s the right word, into a people that can no longer do anything? Are all physical and mechanical skills slowly being phased out in place of phone apps? Are we going to end up as fat blobs staring at small screens? Oh, wait, we’re mostly already there. Never mind.

I ride my bicycle around town, and I see a lot, but let me tell you what I don’t see so much any more: Work benches and tools in garages. I’d say less than one garage in a hundred is set up for someone to actually do something in there. For the most part, garages in America today are simply cheap storage facilities. Some of them even have room for a car. My garage holds about 30 bikes and trikes, two motorcycles, two motor scooters, a pick up truck, and ten foot long workbench with a bench grinder on one end and a drill press on the other. And a ton of tools. Probably literally. My man cave rocks. 

I like working with my hands. I like to fuss with bikes and I like to build stuff. I like to make noise and make sawdust and at the end of the day, I like to have to really work at it to get my hands clean. That makes me feel like I did more than stare at a screen all day. (As I stare at my computer screen right here right now.) Do they even teach “Shop” in school any more? I took years of it, and I’m very glad I did.

My Dad was a carpenter before he joined the Army, and he always had a well equipped workshop no matter where he lived. I continue that tradition, and with many of his original tools. I know how to sharpen a drill bit. I know how to sharpen a saw. And I do. In this modern, disposable society we are fast loosing the craft workers and trade skills that we need to keep it all running. People don’t fix things any more. They simply buy new, then pay to have it installed. I can’t do as much as I used to, but I still do what I can.

But what of the kids I see? The ones that can’t tighten a bolt? Will the physical world mean that little in the coming years? I don’t think so. I think it will still be important, if not vital, for a person to be able to do real things with real tools themselves. And it looks as though no one is teaching that any more. Too bad. You can’t drive a nail with your cell phone, kid.

Oh, and that phone call earlier? Neighborhood kid. A different one this time. His handlebars were loose. Could I tighten them? Kids today. Sheesh.

Believe in the power of the bicycle

I found religion on my 60th birthday. Oh, sit back down and let me explain. For my 60th birthday, I decided that I would host a Tweed Ride out to Safety Harbor and have an ever-so-genteel lunch at the Spa. It was delightful. A lovely day all around. As we rode up Safety Harbor’s Bayshore Trail along Old Tampa Bay, toward the marina and the Spa, the thought occurred to me that people might mistake us for members of some old-school religion. Mennonites, perhaps. We were riding antique black bicycles and were dressed (rather conservatively) as one might have dressed for a bicycle ride in England in 1935. I was wearing knickers and knee socks, a long sleeve shirt, vest and bow tie. The Lovely JoAnn exuded an equally vintage charm. That is to say, we looked like a couple of odd ducks on old bikes. It had to mean something, right? I told JoAnn what I had thought, and she said, no, we were not Mennonites. We are Veloists. We believe in Veloism. And by Ignaz, I think she’s right!

In this politically correct world in which we live these days, it’s considered bad form to ask one’s religion, age or political persuasion, so it probably won’t come up in polite conversation, but, should anyone ask, I now have an answer to the question, “What am I?” I am a Veloist. I believe in Veloism. I believe in the power of the bicycle. Always have. Always will.

H. G. Wells famously said that he did not despair for the human race when he saw an adult on a bicycle. Wells was a Veloist, and I understand that. I feel at my best when I am off on a wheel, as they say, touring around town and seeing the world from the exalted position of a bicycle seat. I really do feel better when I am on a bike, and I feel as though I am a better person for riding; physically, mentally and emotionally. I believe in the bike. I believe in the power of the bike to make me that better person. So help me Schwinn. (And can I get a “Campagnolo!” from the congregation?)

At a modest pace, the bicycle allows you to burn about 400 calories and hour, so yes, there are most certainly concrete physical reasons why the bicycle makes you feel so good. Exercise releases endorphins that give you that “runner’s high” as you ride, so yes, we can quantify that good feeling you get when you ride your bike. Still, there’s more to it than that. On a bicycle, you are part of the world around you, as opposed to being sealed off and removed from the world around you in a car. You are as one with the earth. How Zen-like. Um, make that how Velo-like.

As oil supplies get tight in the years ahead, I expect to see more and more people, more and more Americans, anyway, discover the simple joys of Veloism, whether they want to or not. Yes, I know many of you will be dragged there kicking and screaming all the way. Funny thing about that: Oil is often referred to as an addiction. I’ve never heard of anyone talking about Petroleumism. One’s reliance on oil to answer all needs is seen as a bad thing, while the Veloist is merely seen as a happy kook. Well, for now. I hope to see that change in the years ahead, and we may see Veloism go mainstream.

When gas prices spiked to over $4.00 a gallon back in 2008, people were starting to take me rather seriously. I could have made a lot of converts to Veloism, and maybe did make one or two. I’d wheel my bike into the elevator, and the polite questions would begin: How far? How fast? What about rain? Dogs? Hills? As a devout Veloist, I answered every question. I hope it helped people see the bicycle light.

Maybe I need to work on this. Flesh it out a bit. Maybe write a book on the subject. The funny thing is, I abdicated my claim to the obvious title of that book when I saw another cyclist lay claim to it. Grant Petersen, out at Rivendell Bicycle Works, came up with the same word I coined at about the same time I did: Velosophy. It’s a grand and wonderful word, and I told him he could have it. I knew I didn’t really need it, and another word would come along, all in good time. And it did. While velosophy explores the philosophy of the bicycle, veloism raises it to a (tax-exempt) religious status. Or maybe not.

Let me say right here, in writing, that I have absolutely no intention of pursuing Veloism as a legal, tax-exempt real religion. That would be wrong, and require the filling out of far too many forms. But I do lay claim to “Veloist” and “Veloism” to describe the religious relationship of people and their bicycles, even if it was JoAnn that coined the phrases originally. I claim them on her behalf. How’s that? Oh, and this is Blog #42, the perfect one to explore the meaning of life, the universe and everything. As it turns out, the answer might not be “42”. The answer might be “Go ride your bike.” The answer might be Veloism.

Habeas sentiari bike fatigat. That’s “Keep your bike tires pumped” in Latin. Have I got a cool religion or what?

Ignaz says go ride your bike.

A World With Less Oil: Are you prepared?

Sometimes, if I’m paying attention, I get to see small glimpses of our future. They are always fleeting and soon gone, but I see them, sometimes at the outer edge of my vision. And maybe that’s how the future arrives: in bits and pieces, a little at a time, starting out around the edges.

I open the garage door and walk outside on a Sunday morning around sun-up. No traffic on Lake Avenue. No planes in the sky. Not a single unnatural noise. It is, for just a very short time before the world of man wakes up, a silent world without oil. Very nice.

The pump nozzles are bagged - the universal sign of “No Gas”. There are a dozen different reasons why that may be, but there it is: A gasless gas station, and maybe for a day or so, a glimpse of our future. Contrary to popular belief, I do not smile at this.

I stop to watch a group of cyclists pass me headed south to the park. They are not bike racers, just everyday people on everyday bikes, out for a ride. I like that. I expect to see more of that in the future. I do see more people riding with shopping bags these days, both empty and full, doing their errands a la velo. I like that a lot.

There in the grocery store - that fellow with bands around his pant cuffs, wearing fingerless cycling gloves and a bike helmet, with a backpack for the groceries. Oh, wait - that’s me. Well, it’s still a glimpse of the future for all of us, if we’re lucky.

I’ve been pleasantly surprised that my little oil book, Peak of the Devil, hasn’t caught more flack than it has for being an overly-optimistic (and overly simplistic) look at what must surely be our very bleak future. I tried to make it as ungrim as I could, considering how very grim it may turn out to be. And I do like the idea of us maybe being able to get by on much less than we have now - and maybe our lives will be better for it. But we need to start now.

We each need to understand what it is that we do that we won’t be doing later. That conspicuous consumption brought on by presumptive entitlement (didn’t know I knew the big words, did ya?) is going to hang like a rotting albatross around the necks of people too stubborn to adapt. You need to know this: It’s going to change. Be a good scout. Be prepared. Be prepared before you have to be prepared.

This past weekend, I hosted a Tweed Ride for my 60th Birthday. We rode our vintage English three-speeds out to the Safety Harbor Spa for tea and crumpets. Pinkies out. I had knickers made for the occasion. I wore a bow tie and a jaunty cap. And if this humble little ride is a glimpse of what is to come, of a world with less oil, then our future might not be quite so unpleasant as many, myself included, would have you believe. Next week we'll do it again in St. Pete.

Keep your bike tires pumped.

Oil prices up, gas prices up - What can you do?

So here we have Libya and Saudi Arabia, two very different countries that both produce enough oil for each to export a fair amount, and both are in the news these days. Libya, the lesser of the two when it comes to oil production, has been run for some 40 years by a raving lunatic with serious fashion (and reality) issues. The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia is run by a very large royal family that I’d swear all look exactly alike.

Libya is in the midst of a rebellion/civil war these days that has caused the price of oil to rise. Libya is beset by what is termed, in the oil game, “above ground factors” – that is to say, people. Personally, I’m all for rebellion in Libya. It’s high time they boosted ol’ Mummar right off the longest dock in Tripoli. Do NOT make us send in the Marines. Again. But above ground factors are just that: Stuff we cause – and can fix – ourselves.

The Saudis are up against a far more solid wall: Below ground factors. As their production falls, they might do everything they can and still they may not be able to maintain their current level of oil production in the years ahead, let alone increase production to make up for the shortfall in Libya, or anywhere else. They day they admit that publicly, if they ever do, will be a red-letter day for oil. And a bad day for the rest of us.

I saw a wonderful quote today about the price of gasoline. The writer said the price of gasoline is not set by what it cost to produce, but what it will cost to replace. Wow. Great quote there. So look for the price of gas to go up. Maybe a lot. A friend of mine that owns a gas station said today that he expects to see four-dollar gas by the end of March. And that’s a full two months before the traditional start of the North American Driving Season that starts on Memorial Day weekend and runs through Labor Day weekend. Will we see five-dollar gas across the US this year? My Magic 8 Ball says “OUTLOOK GOOD”.

So what are you going to do about it? Don’t bother with any sort of boycott or “gas out” you may hear about. They don’t work. Even if you don’t buy the gas, someone else will. It’s a global commodity. And please don’t go and protest the price of gas at your local gas station. It’s not their fault. Often, it’s not even their gas. They just sell it on consignment, and make very little, if anything on it.

Do you really want to protest the high price of gas? Then you’re going to have to get proactive and seriously radical. You’re going to have to think outside the box, break all the rules and answer to no one. You’re gonna have to be a loner, march to your own drum and make a statement.

You’re gonna have to ride a bicycle.

A Test Drive: Nissan Leaf

Busy Saturday last weekend. The Lovely JoAnn and I went over to Tampa to check out the all new, all-electric Nissan Leaf car. We got to the International Plaza (mall), and found that Nissan had carved out a chunk of the mall’s north parking lot for their little one-car car show. But they did bring more than one car.

We got signed in and then our little group of eight or so were routed through several temporary glass buildings as our guide told us all about the brand new Leaf and Nissan’s long history of electric cars. (Who knew?) They had photos of all of their previous prototypes, going back for decades. JoAnn and I both decided we liked their first one best - it looked like a funky milk truck. Very cool. They had a Leaf chassis on display, showing all of the batteries that were on board the Leaf. There were many, many batteries.

After that, we got to walk around a functional Leaf. It was pretty much a typical small car from Japan. Which is to say: everything looked good, everything fit, and it had that new car smell. Love that new car smell! Our guide told us that because the Leaf is so quiet, it has a loudspeaker out in front of the left front wheel that puts out noise when the car is going under 18 mph so it doesn’t sneak up on people. The motor itself had some fake engine casings around it so it looks more like a typical transverse four-cylinder engine that you are used to seeing in cars like this. I thought that was funny, but I understood their logic. Then we got to drive it. Well, I got to drive it. JoAnn rode in the back and a brave Nissan rep rode shotgun. Hello, pedal - meet metal.

I had heard that electric cars have plenty of low end torque and will surprise you. Yep, roger that. Maybe it’s the lack of any revving motor roar, or maybe it’s the one continuous whoosh of the direct drive, but let me tell you: You step on the go pedal (I can’t really call it a gas pedal, now can I?), and buddy-boy, this car goes right now. No stumble, no hesitation off idle, nothing but go. It also handles like a go cart. You have my word on that.

Nissan says the Leaf will go about 100 miles on a full charge, and will do 90 miles an hour. How long it takes to recharge depends on available charging voltage. Standard 110v house current will charge it, but you need to give it time. Like overnight. Add a 220v charging station to your house and you cut the charging time in half. I suspect most folks will go for that option.

We were told Nissan estimated the average annual cost of charging the Leaf at $560 per year. Of course that depends on the price of electricity where you live, but they had the facts and figures to show that it would be cheaper to charge the Leaf at home than buy the amount of gasoline it would need instead. And yeah, we do spend more that $560 a year for gasoline.

Now here’s where it got all funny: As we walked into their fenced-off area in the parking lot, we saw a brand new Trek Belleville bicycle sitting there, on display in their area. To me, the Belleville is one of the best thought out bikes in the world. If I were to design my own bike from the ground up, I’d be hard pressed to do better than that one. It’s a very cool bike named after a very cool bicycle movie (The Triplets of Belleville). But why was it there?

As it turns out, if you take the tour and drive the Leaf, which I did, you could make a 30-second video about the Leaf, and if your video gets the most votes of all the videos made at that test drive location (Tampa), you win the bike! Wow! So here’s the deal: Vote for me just as though I need another bike. I think if you get the most votes of all the videos in the US, you get a car or something, but hey, I just want the bike!

Here’s the video. (Don't click on the picture of me, but do click on the link below it)

https://www.drivenissanleaf.com/Win/Vote.aspx?b=9RC7AAWZF6FM

If nothing else, this will give you a chance to see what I look like and sound like. Which is to say, nothing at all like Richard Castle. Vote for Uncle Chippie!

WikiLeaks Exposes Peak Oil Reality

Oh, geez, Lousie: Here we go. WikiLeaks just pulled the rug out from under the Saudis by publishing the contents of some cables about their oil production — and the fragility thereof. The potential lack thereof. Where have I heard this before? Let me think . . . Oh, yeah, just about everywhere. For years. The only difference is, this comes from the Kingdom itself. This is not good. This is bad, even. Very, very bad.

Look, it’s one thing for a guy like me to sit on the other side of the world and speculate on what might be happening, oil-wise, in the Empty Quarter of the Arabian Peninsula. I’m speculating. That’s a nice word for guessing. I’m making it all up. But as it turns out, I was guessing right. So were a lot of other people, as it turns out. Everyone but the Saudis, it seems. For years (for decades), the Saudis have stood there and smiled and said there were no problems. Everything is fine. Don’t worry. Be happy. And for all of those years, we bought the act. We wanted to buy the act. We had to buy the act.

Back in 2001, I wrote Ghawar is Dying, a short essay for The New Colonist web site, outlining how the beginning of the end might, well, begin. I caught some flak from oil types for it. They wanted to know how I gained access to the restricted oil fields in the middle of the Saudi desert. They were not happy, and I don’t think they believed me when I said I’d never been there. I made the whole thing up, but as it turns out, I think I might have been right. And that was ten years ago.

In 2004 I wrote Sixty Days Next Year, also for my good friends over at The New Colonist. The fictitious events in “60 Days” have yet to come true, but the headlines of the past few weeks out of Egypt show that all things are possible in a great big hurry, and those 60 days could start tomorrow. Please, just remember: I was never there and it’s not my fault. Seriously. It was supposed to be fiction.

If the cables exposed by WikiLeaks portend events yet to come, as in coming soon, we are all in for a wild, wild ride. If the Saudis can’t smooth this one over, we are staring the great peak oil monster right in the face; and buddy, whatever you do, don’t blink. If the Saudis admit they are facing peak oil production, we may see the price of oil rise like a bottle rocket. I remember the Arab Oil Embargo of 1973. The loss of just 5% of the world’s oil supply caused the price of oil to quadruple. Quadruple. With oil bouncing around $90 when I checked it the other day, are you ready for $360 oil? No. No you aren’t. No one is.

Best case scenario: The Saudis do what the Saudis do better than anyone else on earth: They smooth it over. They schmooze. They smile and talk their way out of it. And in all honest, I do sincerely hope they can. Worst case scenario: Gasoline in the United States goes to over $10 a gallon in very short order, and is rationed like you wouldn’t believe. I remember the gas lines in ’73. I drove a VW back then, so it was no big deal. This time around, it will be different. It won’t be a four-month political event. It will be permanent.

My advice to you: If you don’t have a good, practical bicycle, go buy one, and soon. If you do have a bicycle, go buy baskets for it, fenders, a good lock and some lights. And buy a bicycle helmet, rain cape and cycling gloves while you’re at it. You are going to want all of that, and very soon. I hope I’m wrong. I hope the Saudis can schmooze their way out of this one, as they have in the past. But if they can’t?

Welcome to our brave new world. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles - Peak Travel

Eric Morris, in his “Peak Travel?” article in the January 11, 2011 New York Times, has pointed out that we madcap, drive-crazy Americans are now actually driving less, and have been since 2005. From the end of WWII to about the year 2000, it was all about driving more and going further each year. These days, not so much. Now we go less. Is this a peak oil thing? Maybe sort of, but not exactly.

While it is true that we tend to drive less as gas gets more expensive, the massive tide of internet shopping has also served to cut down the annual miles driven. Oddly enough, Eric was only looking at miles driven. I would like to have seen some mention of miles flown, and of miles traveled by train. And I would have liked to have seen flying miles drop as rail miles rose - but I can’t say that is happening. I didn’t see it. But maybe we really are traveling less.

In the comments after Mr. Morris’s article, one poster (“Drill-Baby-Drill drill Team”) pointed out that the grand iconic classic of all road trips, the one where Joseph took Mary back home from Jerusalem to Bethlehem to comply with that pesky Roman census thing, was a trip of only eight miles. And my lovely wife points out that there is no mention in the Bible of a donkey being involved, making it rather likely that Mary walked.

The point to be made here is that at one time, a trip of eight miles was a very, very big deal, indeed. A trip of, quite literally, Biblical proportions. These days, it’s lunch. I figure I could walk eight miles in a little less than three hours, as I tend to saunter along at a blistering three-mph clip. Those same eight miles would take less than an hour on my bicycle, and about 15 minutes in the truck, depending on the lights. But what if we go back to bikes and donkeys and feet?

Considering the viability of mass transit in America, the foot-and-bike option seems likely as the oil gets scarce. Author James H. Kunstler (www.kunstler.com) has famously said America has a rail system that would be an embarrassment to Bulgaria — and he was being polite. We essentially have no passenger rail system to speak of for the vast bulk of America. You wanna get there? Then you wanna drive.

I live in Clearwater, Florida, right across the bay from Tampa and just north of St. Petersburg. Pinellas County, home to St. Petersburg, Clearwater, 22 other cities and almost one million people packed tightly into just 280 square miles, has no passenger rail service at all. No light rail, no Amtrak service, no Disney-inspired monorail, nothing. We have some buses, but even they don’t go to all corners of the county. There are two buses that go to Tampa, but only on weekdays. Oh, we do have a Greyhound Bus Station over on the other side of the mall. Maybe. I honestly haven’t thought to even look to see if it’s still there, now that I think about it. We are, after all a nation of drivers, even if we are driving less.

And what if we are driving less? That’s a good thing. I expect we’ll see more of that, or less, I guess. I’m hoping as we all drive less we’ll see more of what was right there all around us all along. We will live locally, and we will (finally) know where we live. We will become neighbors. I like that. Do you?

Let's go for a ride . . .

So here it is mid-January, and I’m planning for a comfy little bicycle ride in late March. Specifically, I’m planning the First Annual Pinellas County Tweed Ride on my 60th birthday, Saturday, March 26, 2011, and I would be absolutely honored to see you there. The ride will begin at 10 a.m. at Eagle Lake County Park on Keene Road in Largo, Florida. (The park has a parking lot designated for trail parking right in the middle of it. We’ll start there.) The ride will go from there, ten miles out to Safety Harbor, Florida, for a nice lunch at the classic Safety Harbor Spa.

And what, exactly, is a Tweed Ride? A Tweed Ride is a casual bicycle ride for owners of vintage English three-speed bicycles, and the proper cycling attire is required of all participants. I’m having a pair of pants altered to cycling knickers even as I type. They’ll be ready next Tuesday. I’ve a fine vest and cap, but I’m going to need just the right tie. And no, I am not joking. You’ve probably never seen me in a tie. Few people have. And now you will.

Why bother? Why got to all the trouble? Because we can. Because it looks like a truly wonderful way to spend the day. And because I don’t look nearly so clever in spandex. Mostly, I blame these guys: www.3speedtour.com. Have a good long look through that incredible web site. That is a two-day ride in Minnesota. Mine is but a short one-day ride in Florida, but you get the idea. If the whole world looked like that wonderful web site every day, I’d be a very happy man, indeed. I shall, in the meantime, settle for just one day of it: My Birthday. Would you like to go for a ride?

In a concession to the harsh reality of modern life, the ride will avoid roads entirely. We will utilize the sidewalks on Belleair Road to get us to Pinellas County’s Progress Energy Trail, take that to Clearwater’s Ream Wilson Trail and take that to Safety Harbor’s Bayshore Trail — which will take us right to the front door of the Safety Harbor Spa. Ahhhh.

In truth, the ride is equal parts theater and cycling. You must dress the part and play the part of the proper English cyclist between the wars. You may drop the accent if you hold tight to the decorum. It will be interesting to see who shows up. The ride has already generated some local interest, as March is Florida Bicycle Month. It all comes down to who has the bike and who has the clothes. And who’s willing to put in 20 miles on that bike, dressed like that.

I would be thrilled if this ride became an annual event, and it just might. It’s like nothing else we’ve done down here in these modern times, so it might be quite the event to attend in the years ahead. Of course you’ll want to be at the first one, won’t you? Everyone will be there.

Just don’t snicker at my knickers.

Meatspace redux

After my rant about the importance of Meatspace, I have to say that yes, I do spend a fair amount of time in that alternate universe that is Cyberspace. In years past, I have been a regular on a very small number of forums, my all time favorite being a sort of general discussion forum hosted by my good friend Mahatma Randy. His was something of an invitation-only cybergathering, and was quite the crowd of entertaining literates. I miss it still and think about it often.

With the melt-down of Matt Savinar’s “Life After The Oil Crash” (LATOC) forum, I was lucky enough to have been found and directed over to its predecessor, The Oil Age forum at www.theoilage.com. This new forum is home to many of my friends from the old LATOC forum, and as you know, it’s always good to be among friends. If you have an interest in peak oil (and the fact that you are here, reading this, would indicate that you do), I recommend that you have a look at The Oil Age forum. No, you don’t have to read the whole thing. I sure don’t. I try to keep an eye on the peak oil breaking news and the general discussion forums, just to keep up with what’s happening back in Meatspace with regard to global oil.

For my bicycling news, I trust my friend Jack Sweeney and all of the good folks over at www.bikecommuters.com. I like to stop by there and see what’s new and who’s doing what where on a bicycle these days. It’s not exactly a forum, but you can post comments at the end of each entry. (Kinda like here.) Whenever I need an attitude adjustment, and need to go to My Happy Place, I dial in www.3speedtour.com. Ahhhhhh….. Now that’s what I want my whole world to look like every day.

And, of course, the other place I am is here. Each of my more-or-less weekly blogs on this site has a comments section at the end, and with the help of my ever-vigilant publisher, I do try to jump in and comment where comment is needed. But wait, there’s more. . . .

If you need to, you can always email me. I'm at chip.haynes@yahoo.com and I try to answer my email every day, except on days that I don’t.

It's the end of the year as we know it . . . .

I learned a fun new word this week: Meatspace. Definition: Not cyberspace, where we all seem to be spending more and more time, but that other place — the real place where we are when we’re not totally absorbed by the internet, texting, Facebook, MySpace and failblog.org. That is to say, the real world. And let me tell you, meatspace is a way scary place.

There’s no instruction manual for meatspace. No shortcuts, no pause button and probably not any do-overs unless (here’s hoping) the Hindus got it right. In meatspace, your avatar is not as cool. It’s probably visually wider, and lacks the cool haircut and hip wardrobe. If you don’t like where you are in cyberspace, you can change it with a click. We are not nearly so lucky in meatspace. We’re kinda stuck here 24/7.

I mention this because I see too many people who tend to live out their lives in cyberspace, and only show up in meatspace to eat and sleep. They have no real connection to anything else in meatspace, and I think that’s going to bite them in their meatspace behind hard enough that they might actually notice here before long.

I’m watching gasoline prices steadily rise. I’m reading about a number of oil producing Middle Eastern countries starting to scale back their domestic subsidies — the very thing I wrote about in 60 Days Next Year back in 2004 that sets off a decidedly unpleasant chain of events around the world in that work of fiction-at-the-time. Will life imitate art? Stay tuned. It’ll probably be on YouTube.

We’re scootin’ right along toward a time of great change here in meatspace, and for anyone fool enough to say, "Oh, we had no warning," I can only say, "No, you had no warning because you weren’t paying attention. You were too busy in cyberspace, posting to your Facebook page, tweeting your friends and checking out all the cool apps on your hot new cell phone." Meanwhile, here in meatspace, we’re watching the situation get more interesting every day — but not any better.

The irony of this rant being nothing but another blog in cyberspace really is funny, isn’t it? Just promise me that at some point this week, you’ll turn off the computer and walk outside, if only for a minute. Me, I’m going for a bicycle ride tomorrow. A real bicycle ride, on a real bicycle, in real meatspace.

Hope I don’t get a meatflat.

Green gas (station)? Good Grief!

Charlie Brown said it best, and with feeling: “Good grief.” My lovely wife made sure I saw an article in the paper this week about a “green” gas station. And no, I don’t mean that’s the color they painted the building. They do honestly believe they have an environmentally conscientious gas station. And they say that with a straight face. Good grief, indeed.

The commercial establishment of note is the Bayshore Breeze Mobil station, on the northwest corner of Alt. US 19 and Curlew Road in north Dunedin, Florida. Having just undergone a major renovation, the rebuilt structure has attained a “green business certification” from something called the Green Business League. (I’m picturing something akin to the Munchkins’ Lollipop League, but maybe a little taller.) All I can offer in their defense, and it isn’t much, is this: It’s not really a gas station anymore. It was before they rebuilt it. It had repair bays and broken cars parked around it and mechanics and everything a real gas station is supposed to have. Now it’s just a convenience store with gas pumps. But is it green?

“What makes the gas station green,” the article states, “is in the details.” Such as? All gas appliances, they say. Since when is natural gas green? It’s a non-renewable natural resource like oil and uranium. I could never figure out why we call it “natural gas.” As opposed to what? We don’t call it natural coal or natural oil, do we? Again: Good grief.

The article mentioned that “a special spray foam insulation” was used to insulate the building, but no mention of what it really was. Was it oil-based? No idea. My guess is yes, but who knows? They are using LED lighting and solar tubes – so I’ll give them the “green light” on those. The flooring is made from recycled tires, so they get another greenie point (as opposed to a brownie point) there. They plan to use non-toxic cleaning products, and use the air conditioner’s water run-off for the plants. Sure, why not. But why not design the building to not need the air conditioning in the first place? Ah, well.

The gas station is about nine miles north of me, so I may pedal up that way one day next week and check it out. Hey, I’m all for green – even light green. The article had a photo at the top of the front of the new gas station. The sign above the door reads “Bayshore Breeze Market & Grill.” Some gas station. And you know what I don’t see in the photo? A bike rack.

Some green. MTT279FQ9HAW

Good News, Bad News

Good news: I have more time to ride my bicycle these days. Bad news: I have more time to ride my bicycle. But let me tell you, we are not a nation of good drivers. Out on a bike, you get to see far more cars and drivers than you would if you kept up with traffic, and that is not a good thing. There was a time when we took pride in our driving skills. Those times are gone – long gone. Now driving is just something that happens while we are talking, texting or doing any number of other things we shouldn’t be doing while we are driving. And even if we are doing nothing but driving, we still don’t quite seem to have the hang of it. And yes, I do lump myself in there, but at least I admit I’m not that good.

However, I do notice something every time we see a spike in gas prices: As a gallon of regular gas tops $3.00, people don’t drive cautious – they drive mean. If you're like me, out there on a bicycle, mean is not good. Mean can be deadly. I can’t imagine what I’ll see on the roads if gas goes above $5.00. Or $10.00. Wow. The future’s looking kinda ugly, ain’t it?

But hey, my new book about peak oil, Peak of the Devil, is on sale and I'm doing radio interviews all over North America! Go team! I have a feeling I’m kind of a shock to the talk radio hosts, as I have no fear. None. I spent seven years in tights on the stage at the local Renaissance Festival, juggling machetes, double-blade axes and fire torches. I have nothing to fear from a radio host 3,000 miles away. So if you are up for a giggle, click here to check the schedule on my web site, and tune in if you can.

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Peak of the Devil should be in every public library and recreation centre. It’s a great introduction to the topic. . . .there is much genius within the pages, a great deal of perceptive and subtle thinking.

— Matthew Wild, Energy Bulletin

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Oh, bother.

This coming Thursday, September 30, will be my last day at a job I have held for over twenty-one years. My lay-off has nothing to do with peak oil, but it is still traumatic. Overwhelmingly so. I’m in the process of getting set up to work at home, and my new full-time job is “writer”. (It has been my part-time position up until now.) So, if there’s a slight lag in my blog entries here, please forgive me. If you're really missing me, you might check out my upcoming media schedule because...

In better news, Peak of the Devil will be officially released the following day, this Friday, October First. 10/01/10. Wow. I can’t wait to see how it does and how it is received once it’s out there. And of course I’ll read the reviews on Amazon. (So please be kind.) Is this the right book for the right time? I really do think so. Oil is in the news more and more, and more people are starting to understand that there’s more to the problem than just a spill or two. The big picture is grim, and getting worse. Welcome to the peak of that devil.

As of this morning, I have three more days in my old job. It’s weird. The office vultures have already started to circle, checking out our desks and chairs and stuff — to see what they want to grab before the seat cushions cool off. My cubicle, once festooned with bicycle posters as well as bicycles, is absolutely bare. Most of the drawers are empty. I could, right now, pick up three things, walk out the door and never look back. Except, I have to say, I really liked this job. I understand where Lot’s wife was coming from. I will look back.

With my new job as writer, I will most certainly have more time to write. I’ve another non-fiction book I’d like to write this winter, and ideas for a couple of novels I’d be delighted to beat out of a willing keyboard. If my new full-time job is writer, my new part-time job is going to be “find an agent for my fiction.” If there’s anyone out there that wants to be my fiction agent, drop me a line and we’ll talk. I have finished two novels, a stage play with 17 original songs, and a short story (about peak oil!) that knocked ‘em dead in Maine a few years ago. And, of course, I want to write more. But I need an agent for my fiction. Anyone? Anyone?

Let’s end this on the most incredible high note possible: Last week I received a hand-written note from Harper Lee. That, to me, is like having God show up at your birthday party to give you a puppy. Whew.

What Fun!

I spent a little bit of time yesterday evening chatting with Dave McGee and Sean Phipps on Dave’s radio show. I had called a few minutes before my appointed interview time, and got to listen to some of the show as I was on hold. It was interesting to hear them go after both the President and Glenn Beck with equal cheek, and I had to wonder what I was in for when my turn came. As it turned out, I had no reason to worry. We had a great time and laughed like crazed hyenas.

We talked about peak oil, of course, and I equated it with peak dating, and how you’re never quite sure when you’ve reached peak date, so how could we know peak oil? They got a kick out of that, and I think it made Sean ponder his big date last week. Was that his peak date? And at what point does he admit that it was? Peak oil is the same way.



Both my publisher and my publicist are going to have me trotting in October, promoting Peak of the Devil, and I like that. I am not shy. Having performed on stage, in tights, at the local Renaissance Festival for some years, I have no fear of crowds or cameras — as long as I am wearing pants. I always check before I go on. Let’s see. . . Yep, they’re there. I’m golden.

If you’re lucky, you will hear me on the radio or see me on TV over the next six weeks or so. And if I’m lucky, you’ll listen. I promise to keep the message up beat and entertaining, despite the decidedly down beat and somber subject matter. I feel a little bit like Country Joe and the Fish here: “Ain’t no time to wonder why, whoopie we’re all gonna die!” Oh, I could so re-write that song for these times.

So keep your ears open for the sound of my lilting, if not dulcet tones on the radio. Look for my mug on the tube. Who knows? I might be there. Just remember, no matter how funny it might sound at the moment, and no matter what I say, the underlying message is far more serious than I will ever let on.

Now don’t touch that radio dial!

Independence From Oil

So I got asked to lead an “Independence From Oil” ride last Sunday. I could go into boring detail about how much oil it takes to actually build and operate a bicycle (more than you’d think), but hey, the gig landed me a spot on the local evening news Saturday night, so it wasn’t all bad. I was even the follow up to a story about the President taking a quick vacation on the Gulf coast. How cool is that? A bunch of people showed up the next morning for the ride, and we went from downtown Clearwater up to the front gate of Honeymoon Island State Park. Along the way I got to chat with Bill Hemme from St. Petersburg College. We talked about what it might take to form a bicycle club at the school. (I promised to go and talk to them about bicycling this fall.) Also got to see a couple of the guys I saw at the last local alley cat race (I knew I should have brought my fixie!) and overall, I think we had a good ride.

What are the Chinese up to, really?

Ah, those crazy, madcap Chinese. So wise. So inscrutable. So very many of them. What are they playing at, do you suppose? For as long as I have been reading (and writing) about peak oil, I have been reading about the Chinese, and their wild push to Westernize. More cars! More roads! More power! But why? They hate the West. Why would they want to emulate a culture they find offensive? Wrong question.

The question to ask is this: Why are the Chinese so bent on using up all of the oil? I’ve long had my suspicions, so I have to ask: Do they know what they are doing? The Chinese, with well over a billion people milling about, can easily ramp up their oil use and seriously hasten the downside of global oil product after it peaks. And then they can keep demanding more oil until they force the depletion curve over a cliff. But why would they want to do that? Why would they want to do the very thing that would pretty much speed the end of Western civilization as we know it? Oh, wait – I just answered my own question there, didn’t I?

The Chinese produce something like 40 million bicycles a year. They were, until recently, quite the total bicycle society. They have functional mass transit and low energy homes. Their population is not used to being Western, so even now, it would be very easy for the Chinese to revert back to their original low-oil lifestyle with very little disruption. They could use up all the oil, ruin the West, and go right back to being Chinese and never bat an eye. They would, though, quietly smile, knowing what they had done.

The funny thing is, there’s not a thing you or I can do about it. They can play the “We want to be like you!” game until oil goes to $400 a barrel, and no one will think anything of it. No one will think to blame them. At some point, we will all be too busy fending for ourselves to see what happened and why – and who sped up the drop. But now you know: In the big dinner plate of life, we are General Tso’s Chicken.

Pass the soy sauce, Yuan.