A contractor punctured the iron casing around the Queens-Midtown Tunnel in New York City, but fortunately thousands of motorists escaped a horrible death:
Workers for the Metropolitan Transportation Authority, which owns the tunnel, first noticed the curious downpour in the eastbound tube around 10 a.m. Leaks are not unheard of, and at first it appeared routine. An initial report indicated that officials suspected that the water was coming from a broken main on the Queens end of the tunnel.
But there was no evidence to support that guess. So, as the water continued to pour in, a tunnel worker performed a simple test using the most sensitive of instruments: his tongue.
The water, the worker discovered, was salty.
Immediately, it was clear that this was no burst pipe. City mains carry fresh water; salt water could only be rushing in from the river above.
[T]he cause of the Queens-Midtown Tunnel’s sudden failure was ... clear. Floating on the river, high above the tunnel, was a barge working on an entirely different infrastructure project, probing deep into the water with a large, red drilling rig.
When contractors punctured Chicago's Loop tunnel network in 1992, we got flooded basements. A QMT failure could have drowned thousands of people.
The History Channel sends me a newsletter every morning listing a bunch of things that happened "this day in history." Today we had a bunch of anniversaries:
And finally, today is the 958th anniversary of the Battle of Hastings, which is the reason this blog is written in a Celtic-Norse-Germanic-French creole, not just a Celtic-Norse-Germanic creole.
I had a busy Friday and a busier Saturday, so I just got to these this morning:
Finally, US Senator and vice-presidential nominee JD Vance (R-OH) has a lot to say about families, but when you actually look at how he lives his own life, it makes you wonder about his sincerity. Actually, that's not entirely true: everything the man says makes you wonder about his sincerity, but in the case of family policies he's even more obtusely hypocritical than usual.
I decamped to Marseille on my last full day in France last week, since I had a flight before 11 am and didn't want to add another hour coming from Aix. I will have to visit the city again, hopefully before I'm too old to negotiate the steps to the train station:
I walked around a bit, up through the Panier district, where I caught this view of the Vieux Port:
But this is probably a better view:
I finished the evening at this little corner bar near my hotel. If it were in Chicago, it would just have an Old Style sign out front:
And that's it for Europe, for now. I'll aim to get back to Provence in 2 years or so, and I'll bring my real camera.
A week ago Sunday, my friends picked me up in Aix-en-Provence and took me to their house in St-Martin-de-la-Brasque, about 30 km north, just south of the Luberon massif. I can see the appeal:
We then drove about 10 km to the Commune of Lourmarin, which may be even prettier than Aix:
Yes, Provence really does look like that. I really need to go back.
President Jimmy Carter turned 100 today, making him the first former president to do so. James Fallows has a bit of hagiography on his blog today, and the State of Georgia has declared today "Jimmy Carter Day." I hope I make it to 100, too, but I don't expect the State of Illinois to declare that day a public holiday.
In other news:
Finally, yesterday the UK turned off its last operating coal-fired power plant, ending a 142-year run of burning coal to generate power. XKCD points out that in those 142 years, the UK burned the equivalent of about 3 inches of its land surface generating electricity.
And of course, I'll watch the Vice-Presidential Debate tonight at 9pm Eastern, but I don't plan to live-blog. Reactions tomorrow, though.
I can scarcely believe I took these 10 days ago, on Friday the 20th. I already posted about my walk from Borough Market back to King's X; this is where I started:
You can get a lovely snack there for just a few quid. In my case, a container of fresh olives, some bread, and some cheese set me back about £6. Next time, I'll try something from Mei Mei.
Later, I scored one of the rare pork baps at Southampton Arms. Someone else really wanted a bite, too:
Sorry, little guy, I can't give you any of this—oh darn I just dropped a bit of pork on the ground. (Lucky dog.)
Finally, this screen shot shows why I love Europe so much. (It's in French because I switched my phone's language settings to help practice while I was preparing for the trip.) The blue dot in the center-left shows where my train was at 20:06 France time (18:06 UTC) on Saturday the 21st. The stuff in the upper-right corner shows my phone's GPS utility. If you look at the left side of that box, you can see "Vitesse 303;" i.e., a speed of 303 km/h, or 190 mph. And that isn't even the train's top normal operating speed.
If we elect people in this country who actually care about climate change, we could have trains like that here, too. But given the proportion of the electorate who plan to vote for the convicted-felon rapist demented geriatric XPOTUS in five weeks, I am not optimistic.
Two of the worst teams in baseball played their last home games of the season yesterday, one of them for the last time in their current home.
The Chicago White Sox improbably swept the Los Angeles Angels at home this week, holding their season losses at 120 and their Tragic Number at 1. Chicago Sun-Times columnist Rick Morrissey can't see how this gets better next year:
When a franchise sets the modern-era record for losses in a season, which the Sox are on the verge of doing, it’s going to see fans secede from the union. Especially Sox fans, who are equal measure discerning and crusty.
Assuming the Sox will be bad next season, too — call it a hunch — that will be three straight seasons of awfulness. That’s not a generation of lost fans, but it’s not a blip, either.
The Sox are in the middle of their second rebuild in seven years and have very little to show for it except a chase for the record for losses (120) set by the 1962 Mets, an expansion team. The short-term damage has been obvious. The Sox have the fourth-lowest home attendance in baseball (17,955). The long-term damage? The fans the Sox might have had but never will.
Three thousand kilometers west, the Oakland Athletics yesterday ended their 56-year residence at the ugliest ball park in the Major Leagues, Oakland Coliseum:
Many clad in green and gold came to the Coliseum's parking lot to tailgate hours before first pitch Thursday afternoon and filled the ballpark with cheers for the team and jeers for A's owner John Fisher, who is moving a team that came to Oakland in 1968 and won four World Series during its time in the Bay Area.
The A's are moving for at least three years starting in 2025 to Sutter Health Park in West Sacramento, the home of the San Francisco Giants' Triple-A minor league affiliate Sacramento River Cats, before a planned move to Las Vegas for a stadium the team hopes will be ready by 2028.
Oakland took a 3-0 lead in the early innings and held on for the victory with All-Star closer Mason Miller getting the save with a groundout to end the A's tenure in Oakland. After the game, the players and coaches all came out on the field to raise their caps to the fans and stadium staff.
At least the A's won, though their 69-90 record for the year so far won't inspire any Norse sagas. The White Sox, on the other hand, will inspire us for generations.
The African American Sports & Entertainment Group plans to buy the Oakland Coliseum and its surrounding parking lots for a new mixed-use development.
Other than the hotel debacle, I'm having a pretty good time in the UK. Yesterday I went out to Berkhamsted to do Walk #1 in The Home Counties from London by Train Outstanding Circular Walks (Pathfinder Guides):
I followed that up today by getting lunch in Borough Market, then walking back to King's X:
(The maps are in French because I set my phone to French to practice in advance of my arrival in France tomorrow.)
The weather yesterday and today has been spectacular, to boot.
Another nice bit of news: I'm now less than 1,000 miles from lifetime Platinum status on American Airlines (with courtesy Sapphire status on another dozen airlines):
That should flip over 2 million lifetime miles when I get back to Chicago.
And now: a shower, a quick kip, and (I really hope) a pork bap at the Southampton Arms.
The intersection of my vacation next week and my group's usual work-from-home schedule means I won't come back to my office for two weeks. Other than saving a few bucks on Metra this month, I'm also getting just a bit more time with Cassie before I leave her for a week.
I've also just finished an invasive refactoring of our product's unit tests, so while those are running I either stare out my window or read all these things:
- Yes, Virginia (and Ohio, Michigan, Pennsylvania, Georgia, and North Carolina), you are much better off than you were four years ago.
- The Illinois Attorney General has filed an environmental suit against Trump Tower for refusing to fix its water-intake system.
- A New York City cop who fought against "courtesy cards" won a $175,000 settlement from the city.
- A developer plans to raze a 175-year-old house in Glencoe, Ill., designed by William Boyington, because we can't have nice things anymore.
- Speaking of not having nice things, after £175m spent and 12 years of construction, the Old Street roundabout in Islington, London, looks...about the same as before.
Finally, the New York Times ran a story in its Travel section Tuesday claiming Marseille has some of the best pizza in Europe. I will research this assertion and report back on the 24th.