Here comes the sun, and I say....

I suspect I'll be long gone before one of two things happens: One, our planet ends up as some sort of near total hellscape - environmental collapse, Waterworld - where the only people living comfortably are the progeny of Elon Musk and company, who will be safely ensconced in some geodesic dome or underground paradise, eating Impossible burgers, hanging out with the by then late Elon Musk via next gen AR/IR headsets, and congratulating each other that they've saved the white race. Or, two: "they" - the scientists, the techies, the nerds - figure out how to save and sustain the world for more than just our overlords.

I do hope it's the latter, and it will likely only happen if some idea(s) that now seem pretty crazy-pants actually turn out to be a good thing.

Reflect Orbital is one such outfit.

They caught my eye because their idea is rigging up "a constellation of in-space reflectors" so that they can sell "sunlight after dark."

The startup is developing satellites that would deploy large mirrors to precisely reflect sunlight onto specific points on the ground. Rings of satellites in sun-synchronous orbit would follow the terminator, or the line that separates night and day, providing additional sunlight before dawn and after dusk.

According to Reflect’s two co-founders, CEO Ben Nowack and CTO Tristan Semmelhack, this extra sunlight could increase the amount of solar power delivered to the electricity grid. Instead of building more solar farms, the pair thinks we can simply increase the amount of power generated at the ones that already exist. (Source: Tech Crunch)

As far as I can figure from LinkedIn, Ben is in his mid-twenties, and is a graduate of Boston's Wentworth Institute of Technology. If nothing else, it's nice to see a brainiac who didn't go to MIT, Caltech, or Stanford.

But speaking of Stanford, Tristan appears to be in his early twenties, and is on leave from Stanford.

Not surprisingly, Reflect Orbital is being nurtured by some of the bro-iest of tech bros: Shaun Maguire (PhD: Caltech) of Sequoia Capital and Winklevoss Capital (founders: the Winklevoss Twins, perhaps best known for suing tech overlord Mark Zuckerberg, claiming he stole their idea for Facebook while they were all at Harvard. Armie Hammer played them in The Social Network.)

Oh, I absolutely hope that Reflect Orbital succeeds in coming up with a cost-effective way to solar power everything. We're going to need it, especially since cyber and AI are stuch energy hogs. But I'm really in it for the extra daylight.

I hate when Daylight Savings Time ends and we enter into the darkest hours. Living on the early edge of a time zone, in the relatively northern latitudes, it gets dark too damned early. I'm already counting the days until late January/early February when the daylight at the end of the day glimmers a slightly appreciable bit long. And the day when we Spring Ahead and get some serious daylight later in the day is pretty much my high holiday. 

How nice it would be to be able to take an early evening walk in December and have it still be light out. Without - as the Daylight Savings Time haters hate on - borrowing that light from the early morning. 

Yay, that!

On Ben Nowack's LinkedIn page, he has the tagline We sell sunlight after dark.

First, I want to congratulate Ben on having a concise and pithy tagline that pretty much says what his company does. The only equivalent I can remember ever seeing is a van I used to spot on my Route 128 commute that had its motto on the side panel: We clean blinds. 

But mostly, I like the idea of mo' better sunlight. I hope they don't screw up the animal kingdom, or nature in its entirety, or rain failed drones and satellites down on our sun-seaking heads. But what's not to like about sunlight?

We sell sunlight after dark.

I may not live long enough to be buying, but you go, Ben!

You're NTA, but your brother sure is

Somewhere along the line, something click-baity appeared out of nowhere. I got baited into clicking on it. And before I knew it, I was flooded with outrage sagas from Brides magazine, most of which connected to Reddit AITA (Am I The Asshole). 

Now, while I may not be the last person on the face of the earth who'd be reading Brides magazine, I suspect I'd be in the top - or is it the bottom? - ten. 

But there I was, reading all sorts of outrages. My sister picked out the same colored bridesmaid dresses...My mother-in-law to be last-minute invited 30 guests without telling me...My now former best friend refused fund my bachelorette party at the resort of my dreams in Lake Como...

And then there was the gem from the vegan bride whose brother had a snit because the vegan couple served vegan food at the wedding. The bride:

"...watched in horror as he and my cousins walked in carrying 20 large pizzas,” she wrote. “They started distributing them to guests, announcing ‘Real food for anyone who wants it!’ I was mortified. The caterers looked so embarrassed, and several guests hadn't even tried our carefully planned menu yet.”

When the bride confronted her brother over the unapproved order, he told her that her aunt had informed him that the food was just vegetables—and that they would be going hungry at the wedding... My mother-in-law posted on Facebook about how her son's wedding was ‘saved by pizza’ because the bride tried to ‘force everyone to eat rabbit food.’” (Source: Brides)

Conniptions ensued. The bride: weeping in the ladies room. The groom: asking the brother and cousins to leave. Accusations, back and fro.

...and now half the family is calling us stuck-up and saying we ruined our own wedding by ‘pushing our beliefs’ on everyone,” she wrote. “They're saying we should have warned people about the vegan menu.”

Warning people about serving a vegan menu? FFS!!!

They were serving a vegetable tart, a mushroom dish, truffle risotto. Admittedly, I don't like the taste of truffles, and I do know plenty of people who loathe mushrooms, but jeez louise, it's not as if they were serving kelp-wrapped boogers on hardtack, or even tofu out of a can. Surely anyone can gag down a vegetable tart and salad. Surely no one is going to starve to death if they didn't get the surf and turf they wanted. And I can pretty much guarantee that no one can tell the difference between a vegan desert and a "normie" one.

I'm not and never say never but never will be a vegan.

Vegetarian, maybe. Pescatarian, definitely. But I could never be a vegan. No eggs? No dairy? No honey? No thanks!

But vegan food can be terrific. 

I've eaten at vegan restaurants, eaten in vegan homes, and - get this - even been to a vegan wedding, where we were not warned ahead of time that we'd be served vegan food.

Anyway, there's been some controversy over this AITA sitch, with some claiming that the story is a shitpost, just there to stir things up. The tell that it's fake AITA? No one would ever serve truffle anything. (Okay. I almost agree here.) Then there's the rumor that this story is a figment of AI, of ChatGPT's imagination. LOL to the L.

Whether this story is true, almost true, or never happened, what I find interesting is that people weighing in are split over whether the bride is the a-hole or her brother is, with a lot of folks saying that the couple really should have "disclosed" the horror of a vegan meal. Sure, the brother shouldn't have pulled his stunt, but what's a bro to do when the newlyweds were so "deceptive."

I can't imagine going to a wedding an creating a scene about the food.  If you're so bent out of shape about the vegan food,leave before the dancing. You're no doubt expecting the "entertainment" to be Lawrence Welk and/or Morris Dancing anyway. 

If you're about to hit the fainting couch, surely someone has a Tic Tac or a Kind Bar to revive you. And how far is anyplace in America from a CVS where you get something to soothe those hunger pains - and soothe them discreetly. Without making a big show of ordering 20 pizzas - probably inedible gunk from Papa John's. 

Let alone posting about it on FB. Talk about MIL from hell!

If the story is fiction, then I guess no one's the a-hole here. Except for those commenters who excoriated the bride for serving vegan food.

Grow up, big babies. Grow up!

Kidulting? I'm here for it!

Well, yesterday was a BIG ONE. Seventy-five. Gulp. No getting around it, I'm old. Make that OLD. 

Or am I?

Wondering when, exactly, old age starts, I thought I'd google around and found that "the general consensus seems to be that you are officially “old” somewhere in your mid-70s." So I guess I am, in fact, old. The mid-70s tracks with the average life expectancy of 80 and change for American women - which, now that I'm just a hop-skip-and-a-jump away, seems pretty damned young. Even though in my heart of heart, my brain of brains, I know that it's actually old. 

Interesting but not surprising that, as people get old, "their perception of when old age starts began to shift upward." Based on a German study (the one that gave us the mid-70s consensus):

"For a 64 year old, the estimated perceived onset of old age was 74.7 years,” according to the study. “Whereas for a 74 year old, the estimated perceived onset of old age was 76.8 years.” (Source: KSBY)

So nobody actually thinks of themselves as old. My mother always said you never really thought of yourself as being much older than your late 30's. Most folks I talk to feel the same. It's just that, for most of us, our bodies don't necessarily follow what our brains are telling us. There's thinking young, and actually being young. Two different things. 

Anyway, since I just observed a hallmark birthday, I was naturallyl interested in an article I came across about kidulting. 

“Kidulting” is a cultural trend that sees adults engage in pastimes traditionally considered more appropriate for children. This can include playing with toys, collecting figurines or cards, dressing up and cosplaying – anything that feels like a reversion to feel-good childhood behaviours. (Source: The New Humanist)

The focus was on Millenials and Gen Z. And, honestly, who can blame them. The existential threat of climate change. The insane price of housing. AI coming for everyoone's job except for those of the Doge Bros. Authoritarian regimes cropping up everywhere. Fuck adulting!

The rational response to me does seem to be getting out the wiffle ball set or resurrecting an old set of paper dolls.

But it's not just the youngs that are kidulting: 

As a psychologist and leading expert on nostalgia, Dr Clay Routledge recognises nostalgic thoughts and behaviour as effective coping mechanisms. “When people experience stress, anxiety, sadness, loneliness or other unpleasant mental states, nostalgic reflection helps them see a bigger picture,” he says. His work as vice president of research at the Archbridge Institute’s Human Flourishing Lab in Washington, DC has uncovered the profound impact of looking to the past on people’s mental states.

“In a survey my colleagues and I recently conducted, we found that most American adults in every age cohort view their nostalgic memories as a source of comfort, inspiration and guidance. Many of the behaviours that appear to be superficial consumer purchases may actually reflect an effort to cultivate a nostalgic environment that helps people connect with their past in constructive ways. Yes, some of it is just entertainment. But I also think it is something deeper.”

There’s also some evidence that nostalgic activities can better connect people to themselves and those around them – contributing to resilience, optimism and creativity and helping to cultivate personal progress.

Unfortunately, a lot of the things I enjoyed doing as a kid are off the table, as I don't want to break my back, head, or shoulders in pursuit of sledding or swinging or jumping rope.

And playing jacks - other than reading, my all-time favorite childhood pasttime? 

Well, a few years back, I did get myself a set of jacks. Alas, my hands and fingers were really too big for the delicate litte picks and sweeps that I could maneuver with ease and excellence as a seven-year-old. Not to mention that there was no one here to help me up off the floor.

One aspect of kidulting does hold a lot of appeal, and that's re-reading some of the books I adored as a child.

I don't usual re-read something I've already read, but I've been making my way through the Betsy-Tacy-Tib books by Maud Hart Lovelace. 

Admittedly, I took up these books because I knew that they would help me hit - and even exceed - my 2024 goal of averaging one book a week. God knows I'll never return to my childhood book-a-day pace, but settling on just one book a week is pretty pathetic, given that well into adulthood - probably up to the incursion of the Internet and smartphones into my life - I had averaged 2-3 books a week for decades. Still, I'll take the book a week, thank you. 

Anyway, in the late 1890s-early 1900s, Betsy Ray, Tacy Kelly, and Tib Muller are besties, living a pretty idyllic life, in the town of Deep Valley, Minnesota, and in the series we follow the girls from early childhood, through high school, up until Betsy's wedding. 

(It's no accident that Deep Valley is based on Mankato, Minnesota, where Tim Walz - the man we were nearly fortunate enough to have as our VP - taught school. Tim Walz is a character straight out of Betsy-Tacy-Tib.)

Just as I adored these books as a little girl, I loved them this time around. 

I'm not going to do a book(s) review, but let's leave it at these are charming and lively without being cloying and simpering in any way. And they opened up a new world I could imagine living in. Although they girls were well before my time, I could identify with them.

Tib, like me, was a blue-eyed blonde from a German family. And Tacy - in a world of childhood books were almost all the characters attended a bland, generic Protestant church - was, like me, an Irish Catholic. And Betsy, like me, wanted to be a writer.(Unfortunately, I was not as determined as Betsy Ray to become a writer, although I did eventually manage to stumble my way into some semblance of writerhood. 

I still love reading multiple books in which the same characters occur. (Thank you, Elizabeth Strout.) And while I might take another look at the Little House books, I'm not going to substitute the books I read as a child for my adult reading. I read an awful lot of pap as a kid, and there's no way I'm going to forego reading Claire Keegan or Colson Whitehead to spend anytime with the Cherry Ames (nurse) books or Donna Parker on Her Own. 

Still, it's been plenty of fun - and a great escape from today's realities - to curl up with Betsy, Tacy, and Tib. 

And forget, just for a second or two, that - yikes! - I'm OLD!