I am in the midst of writing a play. I’ve never done that before; kind of like brain surgery. And so focussing on researching about energy has lost its attraction. The play? Triage: An American Experiment in Existential Arbitration. The question: Who will save the Haze Justice Healing Center? I find the question fascinating. And it’s easier to make up sh*t than research facts. Except both make me terrible sad. And angry. And hopeful.
Meantime, Carl took the bit in his hands and typed out an invitation to all the with Electric Vehicle owners we could think of. With 24 hours of notice, we got a Leaf, a Bolt and three Teslas.
Five EVs. A lot of fossil-ed cars.
Carl is thinking next week, of meeting on Wednesday, the same night as the old fashioned, gas guzzlers meet up. 5PM-6PM. Maybe we can do some drag racing. . ..
Have you ever seen this photo?
There’s another one that shows the same place thirteen years later. In that photo, there’s only one horse. The rest are cars.
That’s how fast transformation can happen.
I just signed on to the extinction rebellion.
No, not to volunteer, nor to start a local chapter. I don’t know enough about it–but I am curious. The clock is ticking, and how dare I expect of others what I don’t do myself?