Yes they’re the scourge of LA (and New York??) and yes they are an invitation for a terrible accident to occur and yes they are strewn all over the sidewalks in a way that defies logic / city planning / all the times our mothers told us to clean up after ourselves BUT ALSO THEY ARE SCOOTERS. And when it is after midnight, and you feel that there is nothing for it but to scoot… you can.
Yesterday it was winter. Today, on the other side of the hemisphere, it’s summer. Hello Sydney.
Are these not the best names you’ve ever seen? Recent reading for/on/during trains/planes/shinkansens/hotel-rooms: After two weeks of mostly-research, the laptop is back open… This would be a more nerve-wracking affair if there weren’t a giant container of Tim-Tams currently in the fridge.
Traveling the Sunday after Thanksgiving is somewhat akin to falling down a well and staying there for a long time. There are lots of other people in your well, and they’re all angry that the well doesn’t lead anywhere. After decades pass, somebody sends down a ladder. And then 3 million people get in line to climb the single ladder, rung by rung.