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A Tale of Two Vehicles - Blather. Rants. Repeat.
A Møøse once bit my sister ...
A Tale of Two Vehicles

Morning and evening, thy presence my light...

The morning shot is from coming out of court a bit past 10.  It's not often I can gloat in specific financial terms, but I saved a client over $25,000 by showing up this morning.  When I came out, I saw this Drumpfernutter parked next to the Brutalist court building:

Oh, do let's turn in our Field guide to Alt-Righters:
- bigass flag;
- xenophobic stickers about those law breaking furners;
- illegally parked.

Hopefully, Rochester Police towed his hot-wheeled SUV and MADE HIM PAY FOR IT!


There followed an afternoon with a much sadder client story I may get to eventually, and with me home a few minutes before Eleanor got here.  We did have plans for the evening, though: I'd subscribed to the 2016-17 UB Distinguished Speakers Series, mainly to see John Cleese in a few months, but the first lecture was tonight; twin-brother astronauts Mark and Scott Kelly. We planned to go, and did actually get out the door in time.

"UB" is an Urdish abbreviation for "shit parking," so even though the campus is (barely) walkable from home, I suggested a departure time at least 30 minutes before proceedings began at 8 p.m.  Since Ziggy had a decent charge, Eleanor suggested we take the Smart car.  Smart choice, as it turned out.

As we navigated toward Alumni Arena, it was clear we wouldn't find a walkable space for my beloved's increasingly sore limbs.  So I dropped her off at the end of the loop right in front of the venue, and told her I'd meet her once I'd parked in O'Brian 3 (my old haunts) or Ellicott 6, or whatever.  Yet there, 100 feet from where she was waiting, was A Spot.  Not an Illegal Fire Hydrant spot, or a Random You Can't Park Here spot, but a Reserved For Electric Cars Needing A Charge From Our Charging Station spot.


Just one problem:  the charging station appeared to require payment. And not by swiping (the insecure US method) or chip-inserting (the more internationally secure method being dragged kicking and streaming into our economy), but by "tapping."

I have two credit cards with chips, and a third with just a swipe strip. No amount of tapping either did a damn thing to activate the available charging port. But there was a toll-free number on the front of the station. I called it. With under 15 minutes before the scheduled start of the lecture, they answered: they needed a station number, my city and state, and an email.  The charging station came to life, and the cord released from its holster. No credit card required; this station is free.  We plugged Ziggy in, mere steps in front of the arena-


-and headed in for a lovely evening which may be recounted later here.

We were home two hours later, some nice experiences under our belt, and Ziggy was close to being back to a full charge.

Thanks, astronauts! Thanks, Tesla!

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