It's the first Tuesday after the first Monday in November today, which means that it is time for another general election in the United States. It's not a presidential or regular congressional election, but many other important positions are on the ballot, including municipal officials and judges, which (for better or worse) are typically elected in Pennsylvania. Alas, with my class schedule this year, I'm not able to resume my position that I had in previous elections as judge of elections, checking people in to vote, so I suppose from here on out I shall be forced to list on my résumé "Judge, Commonwealth of Pennsylvania (retired)."

As a law student, I take an especial interest in these elections, both in general and in accordance with the principle that "a good lawyer knows the law, a great lawyer knows the judge." I extend that aphorism and say that "a fortiori, that "the best lawyer got the judge elected."

Browsing again the Book of Common Prayer and its section on various Prayers and Thanksgivings, I found this prayer for Courts of Justice on page 821:

Almighty God, who sittest in the throne judging right: We humbly beseech thee to bless the courts of justice and the magistrates in all this land; and give unto them the spirit of wisdom and understanding, that they may discern the truth, and impartially administer the law in the fear of thee alone; through him who shall come to be our Judge, thy Son our Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.And I shall again repeat the petition for an Election, from page 822:

Almighty God, to whom we must account for all our powers and privileges: Guide the people of the United States (or of this community) in the election of officials and representatives; that, by faithful administration and wise laws, the rights of all may be protected and our nation be enabled to fulfill your purposes; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

I'm now well into the semester here at the H. John Heinz III College of Carnegie Mellon University (n.b. Thresher geeks, it takes a different style than the James A. Baker, III, Institute at Rice) and have generally enjoyed my courses--which are heavy on economics and, for some reason, Harvard Business Journal readings. But I have two unpleasant aspects of my schedule.

I have an evening class, Monday nights from 5:30 to 8:30 p.m., and I just don't care much for that time slot. I like to do schoolwork in the evenings, and this bumps that start time back a few hours.Friday afternoon "recitation" review sessions, from 3:30 to 4:50 p.m. They're not mandatory, strictly speaking, but they sure do seem like a good idea.

Thinking back across my eighteen previous years of schooling, I've never had either an evening class nor one that started after 3:00 on Fridays. My schedule is fixed for now, and the Monday night class was pre-assigned before orientation, but at least it's just a half-semester ("mini," in campus parlance) and so will be over soon.

My Google Calendar situation has also gone crazy in the past few months, with what can only be described as a proliferation of calendars for various clubs and groups being shared with me. It's good to know what's going on, but it is visual clutter--though necessary, to be sure.

Oh, schedules! So strictly do they dictate my life.

I'm starting in a dual degree program at Carnegie Mellon University's H. John Heinz III College in the Master of Science in Public Policy and Management next week, in a dual degree program with the law school at the University of Pittsburgh. I'm excited to start but have to take a deep breath with the major tuition burden it will represent. And though I save a year doing the dual degree program compared with enrolling in them seriatim, I'm not crazy about bumping my graduation date back to 2014... the same year as those incoming 1Ls this year.

In any event, I wrapped up my summer job at the law school the other day and am now on a bit of an adventure in New York (and perhaps to Washington later this week). My quest is to visit as many National Park Service sites as possible, and get the stamps in my parks passport, which I "discovered" a year or so ago after having let it lie dormant for around 15 years.

So, I'm hoping to see Grant's Tomb today, and then who knows from there. Huzzah!

The new Target store in East Liberty opened this past week, with today's grand opening being the metaphorical capstone to the previous week's petit opening, when the store was open for business, but with minimal fanfare. I stopped by on Thursday and again on Saturday to check the place out, and it is nice. I hope it will be an anchor in the neighborhood for a long time, and as the linked article suggests, it is but one manifestation of a revitalized region.

Surely one of the coolest aspects was this, an escalator for shopping carts raising them from one level to the next. A very neat feature.

The place also boasts around 15 Three Rivers bike racks in the parking lot, which were very much in use as of Saturday afternoon.

After my initial stop on Thursday, it occurred to me that I should check out the documentary East of Liberty. I'd heard about it but never seen it, so I checked it out at the library and watched it that night. While I can certainly sympathize with the plights of people for whom the past forty years haven't been kind, I thought that the critiques offered by the interviewees (and by inference, the filmmakers) were one-sided, simplistic and underwhelming. A lot of it seemed to boil down to complaining about what "those people" ("gentrifying" rich white people, perhaps from the suburbs) were doing to East Liberty, and in particular, to a handful of public housing high-rises. The film seemed to idealize life in pre-Target East Liberty and demonize the people whose efforts (and money) were making it a more attractive neighborhood.

In any case, I will surely be shopping again at the new Target and look forward to the next chapter from the makers of East of Liberty.

Looking at the iPhone's weather app yesterday, one would have thought it an inapposite evening to take a solstitial bike ride.

But the informed cyclist checks the radar, as on weather.gov :

Not a cloud in the sky for miles around! And so it was.

While I did recently fly to Houston and spend some (more) time in Texas, today I "fled" the country, for the nearest, cheapest non-United States place: I took Megabus to Toronto.

The overnight bus was largely uneventful but rather sleepless. And though I specifically asked at the border checkpoint, the immigration/customs officer told me they only stamp passports for travelers arriving by air. So that was disappointing.

But the weekend is otherwise looking good. We'll head back to the Royal Ontario Museum, where I visited circa 1997, and look at dinosaurs excavated from right here in Canada. And many other things.

We head back to Pittsburgh on Sunday night (overnight) but for now I'm going to enjoy the lovely politeness of Canada.

Things continue to occasionally happen to me, but in the midst of school, and now with the approach of finals, I have been strained to tell (all of) you about it in this space. Well, my ten-week silence is at an end!

Recent weeks have been characterized especially by visits. Dan Savage, columnist, blogger and founder of the It Gets Better project, came to speak at the University of Pittsburgh, and I was there to see him. (David Lawrence Hall, where he spoke, was also the location of my 8th grade promotion ceremony.)

It was an especially fitting venue since I had first read Savage's column sitting on the Pitt campus waiting for the bus at the Tennyson Avenue stop sometime circa 1999.

Next, I was visited (vicariously) by Vice President Joe Biden. I had written him the day after President's Day to wish him a happy Vice President's Day (which I suggested was appropriately observed on President's Day + 1), and he wrote me back.

I also complimented him on his French cuffs, which looked especially sharp as he sat behind President Obama during the State of the Union address, and he sent me a set of Vice Presidential cufflinks.

The previous night, someone wanted to visit Pitt Law so badly, she tried to drive her car straight into the courtroom.

(Photo by The Pitt News/Luc Felak/Senior Staff Photographer)

The next morning, they had put up some boards to cover over the hole, and a few days later, it was well on its way to being patched up.

But I maintain its distance from any legitimate roadway, not to mention the steps and columns in the way, make this remarkable nonetheless. These photos capture some of the improbability that a car would travel so far.

Then, I was visiting Squirrel Hill and saw that someone else was visiting and brought the skulls of various animals with him or her everywhere he or she went. Excellent.

Then I was a volunteer at TEDxCMU, a fun set of presentations on various topics. Luis von Ahn's presentation on Duolingo was awesome, and I can't wait to see it rolled out for the public.

They showed Twitter posts about the conference during breaks, including this one from me.

Almost as memorable as the presentation on Duolingo was the immense quantity of Red Bull there. Evidently Red Bull called up the organizers sua sponte and offered to co-sponsor the event by donating a couple cases of Red Bull.

I visited Carnegie Mellon's Heinz College, where I've been admitted to their MSPPM program (still waiting on my financial aid package before I decide for sure) and on the way to a reception at the Heinz History Center, we saw none other than Bumper Bike.

Also visiting Squirrel Hill, in addition to the skull-transporting motorist (supra), was a giant squirrel, perhaps named Murray, as announced in this issue of Squirrel Hill Magazine. (Though I was partial to the also-ran names "Captain von Bushy" and "Nut Nut.")

Finally, Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori came to Pittsburgh where she spoke about a variety of topics in a Q&A session at Trinity Cathedral.

Let the visits continue!

If fan enthusiasm were enough to win a Super Bowl championship, the Pittsburgh Steelers would be riding home with their 45th consecutive championship. Witness the exhibit Whatever It Takes, just concluding a run at Carnegie Mellon University's Miller Gallery. The gallery hosted a Super Bowl watch party, and I went there to watch the first half of the game. I left to watch the (disappointing) second half at a friend's party, but not before posing in Denny DeLuca's amazing, unforgettable Steeler Room (pictured above). The pickle!

So, Pittsburgh won't have this championship, but there's always next year! Here we go... again. And in any case, in the words of the post-Super Bowl XXX Post-Gazette headline, it was "A Super Try."

The really bad news is that this is after a disappointing election season and in the middle of a brutal 1L year. There are enough good things going on that 2010-2011 isn't quite an annus horribilis, but the phrase comes to mind. All I'm saying is, this loss would have been a lot easier to bear if it were Governor Onorato and Senator Sestak paying off their good-natured bets to Governor Barrett and Senator Feingold.

But, in other, uh, news, I was on the news, both as a feature in the background of a KDKA story on post-game precautions...

... and as an interviewee in a Post-Gazette online video. (Minus two points for not proofreading and generating a bogus chyron.)

At law school, we print a lot of cases using either Westlaw or LexisNexis. Printing on these services is "free," meaning, of course, that there is no additional charge, having paid through either tuition or the various non-tuition fees students pay.

Anyway, my colleagues and I print out cases that might be related and read them to glean whatever information might be useful. And then, either determining that they aren't useful, or having read them and finding them useful and extracting the relevant portions, we ultimately throw them away, or hopefully at least recycle them.

My recycling contribution recently has been quite substantial, as you can see below. All I wanted to say is, sorry, trees. I do try to conserve paper, all evidence to the contrary notwithstanding.

Occasionally I am so overcome with enthusiasm for various of the cases we read for classes in law school that I can't help but write rhyming verse about them. Here follow some limericks about cases we've read in my Constitutional Law class so far.

When the Congress of powers makes uses

It may do so however it chooses.

Now established these facts

We prohibit your tax

Else the government sovereignty loses.

McCulloch v. Maryland, 17 U.S. 316 (1819)

Arrested for articles naughty,

McCardle says “Show me the body!”

But the Court grants no writ

As Congress saw fit

To deny it that power--how haughty!

Ex parte McCardle, 74 U.S. 506 (1868)

The standing and inj’ries of Wright

Were seen by the Court as too slight

For consideration

Of school segregation

So those tax-exempt schools stay all-white.

Allen v. Wright, 468 U.S. 737 (1984)

Environment activists brought suit

Interior rules to reinstitute

But with no plans for travel

Scalia bangs the gavel.

“Beyond reason! They’ve no standing!” The claim’s moot.

Lujan v. Defenders of Wildlife, 504 U.S. 555 (1992)

What standards should standing define—

State sovereignty or a long coastline—

To help Bay State masses

Control greenhouse gases

Should the EPA its mission resign?

Massachusetts v. Environmental Protection Agency, 549 U.S. 497 (2007)

Almost four years ago, the day before the midterm election in 2006, I received this email from a good friend who is a church musician and outspoken liberal. I was thinking about it today in advance of tomorrow's election.

Mon, Nov 6, 2006 at 11:40 AM

To: Ian Everhart (et al.)

Subject: A Pre-Election Prayer from the English Church Music Tradition

Dear Friends:

After listening to NPR and reading the Times this morning I found that - as so often happens when I find myself in a complete state of emotional collapse such as this election has engendered - a great English text popped, unbidden, into my consciousness. Verse 2, 1747 version, of "God save the King" has never seemed so apposite. Note the absence of a reference to the King (impossible to construe divine favor for GWB) and the fact that I, as usual, have blasphemously assumed that, at least in certain matters, God thinks like I do.

O Lord, our God, arise.

Scatter thine enemies,

And make them fall.

Confound their politics,

Frustrate their knavish tricks,

On thee our hopes we fix,

God save us all.

This would be a good place for an "Amen."Frustrate their knavish tricks, indeed.

I also love our Book of Common Prayer's section on various Prayers and Thanksgivings, including this one, found on page 822:

Almighty God, to whom we must account for all our powers and privileges: Guide the people of the United States in the election of officials and representatives; that, by faithful administration and wise laws, the rights of all may be protected and our nation be enabled to fulfill your purposes; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Law school started for me a few weeks ago, and I've greatly been enjoying the classes. It's a lot of reading, but it's interesting material and I like all my professors. At the same time, it's somewhat unsettling because for most of the classes, the vast majority (if not all) of the grade is riding on the final exam. So I have no idea how it is really going--here's hoping I am feeling well on the day of the exam.

We read a lot of court opinions to discern the rules guiding the judges, and one of the cases has captivated me more than the others. I noticed that the case Milwaukee v. Illinois, 451 U.S. 304 (1981) is referred to by the shorthand "City of Milwaukee," which has the same scansion as the title City of New Orleans, the 1972 Steve Goodman song. The similarity mostly ends there: the song tells the bittersweet and nostalgic story of a train ride from Chicago to New Orleans, while the case deals with issues of federalism and the role of the federal government vis-à-vis the states, specifically in a lawsuit over pollution in Lake Michigan.

Since one good song deserves another, I took about forty-five minutes this afternoon to write a companion song, not about trains, but about the Supreme Court case. To understand the case, you could read the 9,000-word opinion of the court, or you could find a YouTube version of the song, and sing along to the following text, which I wrote today, and which I think sums up most of the procedural history and holding. Perhaps you'll do both.

Pleading for the city of Milwaukee

Springfield says our water is not clean

SCOTUS is their most preferrèd venue

But the motion is denied to be seen A continu’ng legal odyssey: They refile in Illinois, N.D. Saying nuisance is the outcome of our acts Sewage treatment they prefer Their motions we deny, defer And they set about to counterprove our facts.

Oyez, oyez, our great judicial system! I work on briefs from rise to set of the sun. I’m the lawyer for the City of Milwaukee And I know that when it’s through, we will have won.

Now the Congress seeks the grand affair to enter Clean water law, they enact and decree With the EPA the administrative center Disallowing discharges except from a permitee Our Wisconsin regulators urge That we guard against a rainstorm surge And get a state court’s rule to that effect Illinois still pursues its claim: “Regulate more, in nuisance’s name Where maritime health and cleanliness intersect!”

Oyez, oyez, our great judicial system! I work on briefs from rise to set of the sun. I’m the lawyer for the City of Milwaukee And I know that when it’s through, we will have won.

Judges of appeals upheld the cleanup action Illinois did thoroughly persuade But the ruling of a robèd six-man faction The nuisance cause the Supreme Court forbade: “On such matters where the people speak Through their congressmen, ye courts, be meek. We need not craft such fed’ral common law. Representative democracy Demands that we should silent be And rule only on what the congress’ bill foresaw.

Oyez, oyez, our great judicial system! I work on briefs from rise to set of the sun. I’m the lawyer for the City of Milwaukee And I know that when it’s through, we will have won. Perhaps I shall compose all of my legal documents in rhyming verse!

As reported previously, I set out last week to bike the C&O Canal National Historical Park towpath and the Great Allegheny Passage bike trail from Washington, DC, to Pittsburgh. And so I did!

I first spent a few days in Washington, seeing friends and riding around the city. I was anxious to see the beautiful Bikestation bike parking facility/bike shop by Union Station, and then I explored Rock Creek Park for the first time, taking a "training ride" up to the Maryland-DC border. This was a Saturday and there were a lot of other cyclists out riding, and I'm pleased to say that I passed or kept up with them all, except one guy who a aero bars and a special aerodynamic helmet, who was cruising just a few miles per hour faster than I could comfortably manage. But--I decided that I'm OK with that.

Of great amusement to me was this bicycle wheel quick release skewer which was embedded into the pavement in Columbus Circle, in front of Union Station. One of the more surreal things I've ever seen.

I left Washington last Sunday, August 1, making sure to stop at the "Mile Zero" marker by Georgetown's Thompson Boat Center for a photo op.

From there, I rode, rode, and rode some more. The C&O Canal towpath, maintained by the National Parks Service in a pseudo-primitive condition, is fairly bumpy, as it would have been in the days of canal boats and mules pulling--towing--goods and people between Cumberland, Maryland, and the port at Georgetown. There are free hiker/biker campsites every five to ten miles for most of the route, and I camped around miles 26, 101, and 154.

My first full day of the trip was quite pleasant. I made Point of Rocks, Maryland, at mile 47, my "Point of Breakfast." I asked a passing motorist for a recommendation, and she told me to go to Kerrigan's to get something to eat. When I got there, the owner said "Are you the one they left money for?"

"Absolutely, I'll take any money that's coming my way," I jokingly replied, not expecting that the driver, who had said her son had recently biked much of the towpath with his Boy Scout troop, had stopped in before I arrived, leaving ten dollars "for the biker in the blue shirt who's about to come in." That was a great way to start my trip--with a $15 meal for only $5!

I locked up my trailer at mile 60 and crossed the railroad bridge's pedestrian span over to Harpers Ferry, West Virginia. Famous for being the site of John Brown's abortive abolitionist raid on the armory in 1859, I was expecting it to be as consequential a commercial center as it was historically, but that was not the case. There are a few tourist-oriented shops and the National Parks Service has a number of worthwhile exhibits, but it was always a small town, even in its industrial heyday, and its population today is about 300.

The Appalachian Trail is routed onto the C&O Canal towpath for about three miles near Harpers Ferry, and crosses on the same rail/pedestrian bridge, and I was quite amused to see the sign directing hikers north and south, with the respective Maine and Georgia termini each over 1,000 miles distant. It's not often that you see directions to a destination that far away. (A ranger also told me that part of the reason bicycles must be walked over the bridge is that no bike riding is allowed on the Appalachian Trail. Any faint flickers of desire I might have had to travel more than those three miles of the joint C&O/AT quickly disappeared when learning that tidbit of regulatory policy.)

The canal towpath has a gap around mile 85, so through-riders have to detour in any case, but I took a more extended detour than absolutely necessary, visiting Antietam National Battlefield, the site of the bloodiest single-day battle in American military history. There are monuments in different locations around the battlefield commemorating the positions of various units, but almost 150 years later, it's hard to envision anything other than open fields and rolling hills. The park visitor center had exhibits and a presentation that better helped illuminate the scene. Abraham Lincoln, it seems, came to visit wounded soldiers after the battle, and in the video, at least, he traveled by carriage along the very same C&O Canal towpath I was riding on, riding not much faster than I myself was going.

Pennsylvania had a number of excellent monuments.

I paid a quick visit to Williamsport, Maryland, where before rejoining the towpath trail, I bumped into the town's mayor on my way to find some dinner. I guess I just can't stay away from local elected officials. He asked me why I had chosen to stop and patronize businesses in Williamsport, and I had to confess that the geography just worked out--it was getting dark, I was hungry, and there I was. Geography, now as when the canal was being built, is king!

Leaving the Jordan Junction campsite near Williamsport, I next stopped at Hancock, Maryland, for food, air for my tires, and to take advantage of more geography. Maryland is only two miles wide at Hancock, and I wasn't about to leave the region without biking up to the Mason-Dixon line, going six inches into Pennsylvania, and then hurrying south, over the Potomac, into West Virginia, and then back into Maryland, where I was very pleased to sign the credit card receipt for lunch--that is, to put my "John Hancock" on it in Hancock. Har har har.

The Western Maryland Rail Trail parallels the C&O Canal towpath for about fifteen miles around Hancock, and I was glad to take advantage of it. I think it's kind of crazy to have a fully paved trail run for just fifteen miles only 100 yards away from the C&O Canal National Historic Park towpath, but on the other hand, I was tired of hitting every tree root, tree branch and rock that lay in the towpath. The blacktop was quite welcome, but I dropped back down to the towpath to see the "Devil's Eyebrow," an anticline located right along the trail.

The next morning, I crossed through the Paw Paw Tunnel, an engineering marvel of its day, over half a mile long. Bring a flashlight.

I saw a good amount of wildlife along the ride. I was particularly impressed with the great blue herons flying over the canal in the first 50 miles from Washington. There were a lot of deer who I must have startled--I alternately tried to scare them off, ringing my bell, or tried to get as close as possible before they ran away--and assorted rabbits and other small critters. There were also mosquitoes. And turtles:

I tried not to get too delirious, and I only hallucinated a little bit. I mean, after three days in the woods, those trees do look an awful lot like a person. And things that maybe aren't funny seem really funny, like "Pigmans Ferry Campsite." Pig man--get it? Like in Seinfeld.

And then I reached Cumberland! This is getting long but suffice it to say it was time for another couple photo ops: end of the C&O Canal, Mile Zero on the Great Allegheny Passage, the Mason-Dixon Line, and the Eastern Continental Divide. It was all downhill from there!

The ascent into Frostburg is the longest, slowest fifteen miles I have ever ridden. The trail has a deceptively steep grade, and I stopped a number of times to make sure I didn't have a flat tire--I was sure that something was wrong with my bike to be slowing me down so much. Nope, just an uphill grade, topped with a windy light rain for much of it. But after the storm blew over, I had an amazing vision as the golden sunset illuminated the trail. I'm pretty sure the trail to heaven's pearly gates looks basically like this. I guess I'd rather have an uphill to my final destination than a downhill...

The last two days, from Frostburg to Connellsville, and then on to Pittsburgh, were really long but rewarding. It was really wonderful biking through Ohiopyle State Park, right along the Youghiogheny River, and I had a great time exploring Connellsville, which has more than its fair share of wonderful old buildings, beautiful even when despoiled with gaudy signage.

The roughest stretch of the trip was probably around McKeesport, Pennsylvania--I was in Allegheny County, but was still miles (and hours) away from my destination. When the official trail ends (one of the "gaps" in the "GAP," you might say) there is a sign saying that biking on PA-837 around Kennywood can be hazardous, but I was having none of it. I had come that far and wasn't about to "arrange for a ride to my destination in Pittsburgh" as it suggested. Since the only thing we have to fear is fear itself, I rode on, through Homestead and at length entered the city limits.

I prevailed upon a passer-by to take my picture on the Hot Metal Bridge. This is my favorite view over the city, especially at the "golden hour" right before sunset.

I went home to ditch my cargo--I weighed it, and it was at least 72 pounds I was hauling around--and headed downtown to complete my trip. Bike lift on the Mall--bike lift at the Point. Total elapsed time: 5 days, 2 hours, 15 minutes.

I was then happy to attend the Bike Pittsburgh BikeFest kickoff party, where it was all I could do to refrain from continually shouting "Hey everyone, I just rode here from DC!" Talking to people there, it became clear that the next step is a round trip version of this ride, or maybe something even more extreme... and also that it's a rookie mistake to pack as much heavy stuff as I did. (Falling into the talismanic category of "brought and therefore not needed:" rain jacket, umbrella, hoodie sweatshirt, three spare tubes, patch kit, mini pump, two sets each of brake pads, hex key sets, and imitation Leatherman tools.)

Finally--in a most excellent coda, I went into Whole Foods when I saw someone I knew, who told me to check out the latest issue of the Pittsburgh City Paper. It seems that on page 34 of the August 5, 2010, edition, I am featured prominently in their preview of BikeFest events! And so it was!

I have in the past described myself as occupying a "no man's land" of either being the least serious "serious biker" or the most serious "joke biker." With this long trip, and being taken as the representation of all cyclists in Pittsburgh, I think I have to move myself unequivocally into the category of "serious biker."

What a week!

In 2008, I heard about a trip being organized in conjunction with Pittsburgh's 250th anniversary from Washington to Pittsburgh by bicycle along the C&O Canal and the Great Allegheny Passage. The former canal towpath and the old railroad right of way have been converted into a recreational trail heavily used by cyclists. Hikers also use it, but it is less popular for hiking, I'm told, than other long-distance trails such as the Appalachian Trail.

The 2008 trip cost about $800, though, and was in the middle of prime campaign season, so it didn't work out for me to go. Anyway--I have been wanting to do this trip since then, and now I think I finally have the chance in the ever-shortening window of time before law school starts. I'm delivering a family friend's car and cargo to D.C., leaving today, and I'll spend a few days in Washington before heading out over the weekend. I'm giving myself some flex time for the weather and not locking myself into a specific date to leave, but probably by Sunday.

And then will begin the epic "vision quest"--or something like that. I'll have 330 miles alone on my bike on the way back to Pittsburgh, and this is the point at which I become concerned. I've never done more than 50 miles in a single day (the first day of my trans-Rhode Island trip, or a couple of long days running errands in Pittsburgh) and never those extended trips on several consectutive days. I'm camping, which is daunting in its own daunting ways. I can't, and won't, carry a week's worth of food with me, which is fine since there are many towns along the trail with ample provisions. But there are long stretches with no services, which concerns me.

So, I'm feeling a good bit overwhelmed now. But I'm really looking forward to the trip, whatever ends up happening. The next time I do a bike lift on the Hot Metal Bridge, I'll be just a few miles from home!

I'm on a vacation with my family in Connecticut, where we've rented a cottage for the week. It's on Lake Alexander in Dayville, and is a very relaxing place. But one of the highlights for me was the chance to do my first interstate bike trip. I got a bit turned around but eventually found my way to the Rhode Island state line.

I continued onward, eventually meeting up with the Conventry Greenway, a rail-trail that was nice, even though the regular roads were in pretty good shape and bike-friendly.

It's in quite good shape. Someone has obviously invested a lot in this infrastructure. There were some bridges:

Finally, I arrived in Providence, and admired the civic architecture.

And nothing made me happier than doing a bike lift at the Rhode Island State Capitol.

I pick up again today in Providence and from there head for Newport, and on to Block Island on Thursday. I will have biked over nearly the whole state!

On Thursday, after a very brief conversation in which I allowed that I was already in a weekend state of mind, I was asked, no doubt in anticipation of Father's Day and possibly preparing to wish me a happy one, I was asked "Are you a father?" by my companion on the elevator.

This struck me quite by surprise, and I laughed before saying, "Ah, no." My interlocutor smiled and said "Well have a good weekend anyway."

As the elevator doors closed, I had just one thought: "Wow, that would be quite a hilarious and terrifying experience for everyone involved."

Indeed.

Happy Father's Day to all those out there who are mature and responsible fathers!

Tonight was President Obama's first address to the nation from the Oval Office, dealing with the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico, and I watched it at home. I was excited at the possibility that a major initiative or dramatic breakthrough would be announced. The speech read in part: For decades, we have known the days of cheap and easily accessible oil were numbered. For decades, we’ve talked and talked about the need to end America’s century-long addiction to fossil fuels. And for decades, we have failed to act with the sense of urgency that this challenge requires. Time and again, the path forward has been blocked -- not only by oil industry lobbyists, but also by a lack of political courage and candor. The consequences of our inaction are now in plain sight. Countries like China are investing in clean energy jobs and industries that should be right here in America. Each day, we send nearly $1 billion of our wealth to foreign countries for their oil. And today, as we look to the Gulf, we see an entire way of life being threatened by a menacing cloud of black crude. We cannot consign our children to this future. The tragedy unfolding on our coast is the most painful and powerful reminder yet that the time to embrace a clean energy future is now. Now is the moment for this generation to embark on a national mission to unleash America’s innovation and seize control of our own destiny.What followed was a fairly tame and blandly reassuring. Of course, the citizens of the Gulf coast states who can see oil washing up on beaches near their houses, destroying the wildlife and their livelihoods need some reassuring, and it's good to have such a strong statement of support coming from the very top. But in terms of specific solutions, it was overwhelmingly lacking and generally vague. The president gave shout-outs to energy-efficient cars and home renovations, but otherwise, spoke only in generalities. I wish he had continued on, saying something along these lines:And therefore, I am permanently suspending and rescinding all permits issued for oil drilling in the coastal waters of the United States. It is now clear that there is no such thing as completely safe oil drilling when offshore rigs are floating a mile above the ocean floor, just as it is clear that our dependence on oil and other dirty fuels--both domestically and internationally produced--is a huge strategic liability.

Furthermore, I have tonight sent a message to the Congress asking the House and Senate to enact a new carbon pollution tax, to take effect immediately. For too long, dirty fuels have gotten a free ride, contaminating our air and water at no cost to the polluter, while technologies such as wind and solar have struggled to match the price of these dirtier energy sources. The legislation enabling this new tax on pollution will level the playing field for new clean energy solutions, ushering in the post-fossil fuel era.

Transportation accounts for seventy percent of all United States oil consumption and a third of our carbon emissions, and so I am asking the Congress to establish a new excise tax on gasoline and diesel fuel, at the rate of fifteen cents per gallon, to be increased by five cents each year. In 30 years' time, the cost of a gallon at the pump may finally approximate the estimated true costs of the fuel, estimated today at over $5.00 per gallon, once environmental, health and other factors are added in.

I know this measure will be unpopular in some quarters and with some Members of Congress, but I am prepared to convene and reconvene Congress using my authority under Article II, Section iii of the Constitution until both chambers shall have passed such a pollution-control regime. This measure will be the biggest single shot in the arm of alternative energy that the federal government can provide. If we are serious about pursuing clean energy sources, it is the only reasonable step we can take.

Then, I would have been satisfied to hear these words, actually spoken by the President.Now, there are costs associated with this transition. And there are some who believe that we can’t afford those costs right now. I say we can’t afford not to change how we produce and use energy -– because the long-term costs to our economy, our national security, and our environment are far greater.

Think of a group of skeptics. Maybe "9/11 truthers" or JFK assassination conspiracy theorists come to mind. Probably not at the top of your list would be education professionals. Yet they, as a class, have expressed to me, in writing, the most persistent and ongoing doubts about the very fabric of the universe, the inexorable march of time. Perhaps you've seen them as well. Most go something like this:

"It's hard to believe the summer is almost over..."We now know this in my family as "The Educator's Salutation." My parents and I have received countless letters from elementary, middle and high school principals, superintendents, college deans and vice presidents, and now law school administrators that open with some variation on this.

There are different flavors, of course. The writer might observe and lament the end of the summer, or of Christmas break, or final exams period, rather than mark the start of a new school year, or note the recent passage of such a milestone: such are the many varieties of The Educator's Salutation. One such variation is that of my latest missive, from the University of Pittsburgh School of Law, in which an assistant dean says"We can hardly believe it but our admissions cycle at the University of Pittsburgh School of Law is nearing an end."From elementary school to law school: it's good to know some things don't change.

I've had a hard time leaving this town -- The Clarks, Born Too Late

Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning. -- Winston Churchill, 1940

After fourteen months of LSAT classes, essay writing, late-night application submissions, tons of computer copying and pasting, résumé reformats, nervously checking the mail and above all, procrastination, I'm done with the law school application and selection process. In total, I probably took three dozen practice LSAT tests and applied to twenty law schools. The fees and expenses reached several thousand dollars, all told--but it's only a drop in the bucket compared to the expenses of actually attending law school.

Of the twenty, I got the metaphorical or literal thin envelope from twelve, was wait-listed at three, and accepted at three. (I applied very late in the year and haven't heard back from two, at even this late date.) And after a few weeks of hemming and hawing, the University of Pittsburgh beat out Temple University and the Ohio State University in a very close competition.

So I'll be here in Pittsburgh for law school starting in August. After being tentative on so many levels, it's nice to have a firm plan established. Actually, it will be two plans: one for my curriculum and career, and a nice payment plan for all the debt I'm going to have to take on! At a Pitt Law admitted student event a few weeks back, the panel of current and former students said they had largely financed everything out of debt and it had worked out, which was somewhat if not completely reassuring.

So--Pitt Law! Now I just have to survive the 1L year, which, I'm told, is pretty killer.

Readers here who have talked to me "live" recently may remember me discussing this idea. I'm considering the hiring of writers--à la The Daily Show--to come up with funny things for me to say. They would follow me around, observe what I'm seeing, and help me develop amusing commentary that I can use to impress friends, colleagues, acquaintances and strangers.

There are still a lot of kinks that would need to be worked out. If they're actually following me around, it may be obvious that I'm being coached, especially if they are whispering in my ear every minute or so. My solution is to get some kind of video camera and earpiece, so the can be removed from the immediate scene. A Bluetooth headset would do in a pinch.

A more serious complication is the financing. I can't afford to hire even one, let alone a team, of comedy writers. Maybe I can get some interns?

Speaking of writers, allow me to refer you to my brother's blog of improbable musings, with the understated title of Here are some ideas. Be careful what you do with them.

Beer-Bike was cancelled due to the weather--as predicted--and the usual three bike races (alumni, women, men) were whittled down to the alumni race only, which was a run. Quite disappointing--but I have to say, with a majority of my Beer-Bike experiences being rained out, it wasn't all that shocking. Though I must say, the weather was beautiful Friday and beautiful now on Sunday... how's-a-come it was so lousy yesterday?

So yes, it was wet and cold. If you had to miss one, this was a good one to miss. Still, I saw a lot of friends and had a pretty good time.

Pictures and details later.

After a fun afternoon exploring San Antonio, I'm here at Rice for my seventh Beer-Bike. As I had suspected last year, there are fewer people I know still here (and returning for the revelry), but so far it's still been fun.

So, my Beer-Bike number seven, and this is looking to be rain-out number four for me. These forecasts are kind of getting me down.

Me: Hey Ted, what's the best way to spend $80?

Ted (my brother): Uh, on law school application fees?

Me: Yes, but what kind of law schools?

Ted: The kind where you're probably not going to get in?

Me: Correct. But when is the best time to spend that money?

Ted: On the day the application is due![Cue nervous laughter, hand-wringing--and scene!]See, I'm using the Socratic method already!

Streets are for people, not just people in cars.That's one of the rallying cries of bike advocates, along with the classic Critical Mass line that "We aren't blocking traffic, we are traffic!"

This Saturday in Pittsburgh, at least, it wasn't aspirational so much as descriptive. People with dogs and children in sleds took over many streets that are ordinarily crowded with cars, including Shadyside's Walnue. There were, in fact, cars going up and down this and many other streets, but as a rule, they were going slowly, and in the absence of well-shoveled sidewalks, many pedestrians were taking to the main traffic lane of the streets, where there was at least consistency.

Biking, for those of you wondering, was not advisable, at least in this part of town. On Friday afternoon, the blizzard had yet to descend, and on the tail end of my "Four Park Challenge" route, I paused to take a picture at the Highland Park reservoir. Happily, I didn't have to change a flat tire at this spot, as I had a few weeks back.

By Sunday, I found biking to be tough and not really any faster than walking, given the lack of traction (even with a new rear mountain bike tire) and slipperiness even when I managed to get going. Let's just say snow is actually pretty decent at cushioning falls.

I'm listening to WBUR's stream of Scott Brown's acceptance speech. A couple things:

This crowd will chant anything.What was up with him talking about his daughters--"They're both available!"Quoting John Kennedy about lowering taxes--not mentioning that they had been at 90 percent--to pay for World War II.Brown says it's a good idea to deny the right to a lawyer to to accused terrorists. Good thing nobody is ever accused falsely, right, Gerald Amirault?I love a road trip as much as the next guy, and I kind of wish I had gone to Massachusetts in person for GOTV, but I ultimately did the next best thing from here in town. I made a bunch of calls to the 508, 978, 781, 857 and 617 area codes in the past few days--probably 25 on Friday, 200 yesterday and 250 today, both from home and from the Pittsburgh OFA office. I'll be back down there again, for sure.

Anyway, it's a disappointing night for Democrats, and hopefully does not portend too badly for elections later this year. Until then, it's time to make Republicans actually filibuster legislation, not just threaten it--reading the phone book, no bathroom breaks, the works. Failing that--let's reconcile that mess.

Today is Inauguration Day in the City of Pittsburgh. I was just at the swearing-in of two new members of the Pittsburgh City Council and, at a separate event, Mayor Luke Ravenstahl's inauguration for a full term.

There has been some drama at recent City Council meetings, and I do love me some pomp, so I was very excited to be able to show up for these events. I was excited to see it wasn't just a pro forma meeting, and the election of Darlene Harris as Council President was surprising to me, having read that it would be a contest between factions led by Bill Peduto and Theresa Kail-Smith. (I also noted that, in contrast to the practice in the U.S. House of Representatives electing a speaker, in which the candidacies are announced and then each member announces his or her choice by name, in this case they took a roll call vote with ayes and nays on the candidacy.)

So much parliamentarism made me think back to the good ol' days on Hanszen Cabinet. Or better yet, my days as president of the Rice Young Democrats. (On that note, allow me to observe that I was evidently elected "President Forever," which, I am amused to observe, is not necessarily the same as "president for life.") Motion to adjourn? Second?

There's a reception tonight, and if nothing else, I anticipate free snacks and a chance to pass out business cards. (I always say that since I had 250 of them made up, I had might as well pass them out.)

Off to the party!

I took the LSAT again on Saturday morning, this time at Duquesne University, after having previously taken it in June at Pitt. For whatever reason, the June LSATs are administered in the afternoon, rather than the morning, as are the other tests. I was quite glad to have the afternoon testing option then but had to settle for an early morning appointment this time.

I arrived a little before our 8:30 a.m. deadline, and it would have been OK even if I'd been a bit late. The proctors had to read lots of boilerplate, and we had to bubble in our names and various ID numbers and survey question responses. The guy next to me called over a proctor to ask if he had to give his Social Security number and/or sex, since he declined to do that when he registered to take the test.

They ultimately told him to leave it as it was when he registered (this was, to me, the obvious answer) but he's going to have to give that out sooner or later in law school applications, so why didn't he do it when he registered? (I only spoke to him briefly, but given that he omitted both of those, and his general attitude I'm fairly certain this was a political thing, and not a matter of questioning his gender identity.) Seriously, who does that? His name was William or something--pretty obvious giveaway at least on the gender question. Does he really think that being male or female will, in applying for law schools' classes of 2013, be an issue either way?

The test went well for me--and depending on which logic games section is the experimental section (and which counts towards my score), I'd say it may have gone very well indeed. One of the things I got from doing around ten practice tests in the 2 weeks leading up to the real LSAT was getting a sense of how well (or not) any given sitting is going, so based on that I'd say I was above the average of what I'd been getting--but let me make that announcement more clearly when actual scores come out in a few weeks.

One semi-interesting fact about the whole process is that each test is scored and scaled against everyone else taking that test. So, in fact, if I think I did decently well on Saturday, but it was a pretty easy test, I may fall right in the middle of the pack. If it was a hard enough test that many people did poorly, I would benefit, as I would if many people who were not very well prepared showed up to take the exam. Since I'm competing with my neighbor William the Paranoid, everyone else in the room, and applicants across the country, this leaves me with a dilemma:

Do I wish them good luck or not?

I mean, I want to be a nice guy and friendly and all that, but honestly, if any of them does better, that may mean that I score worse. Selfish, I guess, but nobody else was falling over himself or herself to give me good wishes. Actually, people were not in an especially talkative mood at all, but I'm not surprised.

At the "halftime" break between sections three and four, I came into the lobby and it was snowing lightly outside. I could only see that as a good omen. (I had the most random snack with me for that: a single piece of three-day old pita bread--the only thing handy to grab when I was on the way out the door that morning. No wonder people weren't talking to me.)

Finally, I was so pleased with myself about the mandatory LSAT writing sample, which, regrettably, does not contribute to one's score. (I began in a good mood since the proctors' script included the direction that we "write an essay, in English, on the topic listed" for us.

LSAT essay prompts are all of a form asking for a recommendation between two courses of action, many that I've seen relating to a business decision (a business should expand in a certain direction, or a client should hire one of two firms, etc.). In this case, a theatre group was deciding between staging a well-known play or commissioning a new play, and balancing its interests to serve the audience as well as local writers and actors. I ultimately told them that they should commission a new play, in part since that course alone allowed for the support of local writers. Though this option turned down the large audiences and corporate support likely with the selection of the existing play, I closed by quoting Julius Caesar, writing "Audaces Fortuna iuvat--Fortune favors the bold. The company should commission a new play."

And now, I get to stress and procrastinate about a completely different set of things.

I've arrived in Ghana now, in the historic Asante capital of Kumasi. It's an interesting town, quiet by night (I arrived very late last night) and bustling in mid-afternoon, especially in the Kajitia market area. Everything is in English, at least on mastheads and other written areas, in marked contrast to my last 5 weeks. I found myself saying "Ça va" to guys on the street who greeted me, as one does in French-speaking West Africa. Another Ghanaian walked past me saying, slightly amusedly, "White man." I guess I can't disagree...

This morning I awoke around 7:00 a.m. to a marching band (heavy on the brass) playing some tunes I recognized, including Maccabeus (or is it the Sullivan tune to Thine Be The Glory?). Turns out it was a school group associated with a Presbyterian church. I saw them marching later, including with Scottish-style caps.

Needless to say, pictures of this, and everything else, as well as more text on everything, will be available once I'm back home: Sunday in a week, September 20! I'm really enjoying travel and meeting new people, especially Peace Corps Volunteers in various countries--I'm surrounded by Ghana PCVs at the moment--but am looking forward to coming back and just relaxing and being on my own turf again. And riding my bike around for the last few weeks of good weather!

It's been almost two and a half weeks since I arrived in Niamey, and I was glad to have the chance to leave town, even briefly, the other day. My plan had been to tag along with a Rotary group from the US for the first week, which I mostly did. They had built a number of wells in outlying areas, as mentioned previously. My plan was to get out to Agadez or other distant places in my second week in Niger but that has mostly not happened. The buses don't run every day--I went with money in hand to buy a ticket for a Wednesday departure, but that's one of two days a week they don't run. And the buses all generally depart really early in the morning, so I've got that early morning inertia to combat, as well.

So I stayed around Niamey most of the rest of the week, just hanging out and getting to know some of the Niger Peace Corps Volunteers. Who, needless to say, are by and large really cool people.

On Saturday, though, I headed up to Ayorou, a town about four hours up the Niger River from Niamey, to get a feel for what non-metropolitan Niger feels like. (That said, being right along the river, and nowhere near as far away as Agadez, for instance, it was still probably pretty tame, as far as Niger goes.)

This was going to be a real first for me in Niger--heading off, alone, to a place where nobody spoke English, where I didn't really speak French and certainly didn't speak Zarma, and I was only about 300 miles from Timbuktu.

I quickly met a friendly local who showed me to the one hotel in town and we made plans to meet up later. Excuse the mixed metaphor, but the faded glory of this hotel still echoes around the place--there was a plaque commemorating the time when in the 1970s, the president of Niger came to dedicate the place. Since then, it's fallen on hard times, or the management is completely clueless.

Upon arriving, the manager--who, to my tremendous surprise, spoke English with a delightful African accent and cadence--asked "Will you be taking lunch with us?" and when phrased thusly, it's impossible to say no. So I had a fine Western-style chicken dish (with French fries), dining on a veranda that reminded me of nothing so much as "taking lunch" at Governor's Camp in Kenya, resting between a morning and an afternoon on safari.

We later had an interesting conversation--it seems the manager is originally from Benin, and Christian, in majority-Muslim Niger (Ayorou, he tells me, is 97 percent Muslim). He, like many other people I met in Africa, wanted to stay in touch, and I gave him my address, figuring if he wanted to spend on the postage, I would be glad to receive his updates. We also discussed how to make the hotel more appealing to travelers, especially foreigners. I suggested--and this is absolutely, 100 percent true--adding toilet seats to the otherwise-normal toilets in the rooms. "Oh, you mean a plastic thing that goes on them?" the manager asked. "Yes." I assured him. "Toilet seats. Probably a good idea if you want to get some high-end people." In fact, a good idea regardless.

My dining was interrupted by two men who were extremely interested in taking me on a boat ride to see hippopotamus down the river. I'd already done that, so I wasn't especially interested, or at least not for the prices they wanted. After much negotiating, I did get into a much smaller, more precarious craft than I'd been on with the Rotary group, and we braved some micro-rapids to get down to the hippo zone. (They weren't really scary, but they required punting, rather than paddling, from the two boatmen on the way back.)

We had stayed a goodly distance from any hippos the week before, but this time we got a lot closer. My boatman got out of the boat and led me around through a field where cattle were grazing (and flies were feeding... on me) and gestured for me to go on ahead to as close to the hippos as I dared. Which was pretty close. They say more people are killed by hippos every year than any other African animal, which I definitely believe when you look at their teeth.

Some local boys there joined in observing the spectacle. On the way back, we agreed there were at least twelve hippos there, and my boatman said there are hardly ever that many gathered all in one place.

My buddy from earlier in the day was waiting for me, and, in shades of Morocco, wanted to be hired as a guide for several hundred CFA. I didn't like the principle of the thing, but in the end it was not very much, so I went along with it. We went to what passed for a local "bar" and had a drink, where he mistakenly assumed I would be picking up the tab, which I was, but only for what I was drinking myself. I eventually paid, but we agreed to take it out of his fee later. Don't try to get free drinks out of me, fool.

As our tour of town continued, we ran into this group of youngsters by the riverside. They seemed friendly enough, but we had zero language in common, so it was bound to be a short visit.

Nearby, these several boats were "docked," evidently having brought goods for the next day's market from places far and wide.

Saturday night, people were finally breaking the fast. I had some decent rice-sauce in one of the plazas, but was basically ready to turn in for the day, so I made arrangements to meet my guide the next morning to go to see the vaunted Sunday animal market.

My buddy showed up at the appointed time, taking me a goodly distance to the animal market. Essentially just a big open space with stakes in the ground for owners to tie animals up to, there were beasts of all kinds on offer. Many small-time traders came with a dozen or so sheep or goats, but there were also huge collections of camels, donkeys and other livestock.

After that it was time to go "home" to Niamey. At least I didn't have to travel in a true "steerage class":

Back in Niamey I I was looking forward to urban biking! You haven't biked until you've biked in Africa, I've started to say. Bikes are, of course, a very common mode of transportation in Niamey, given the general impecuniousness of the area and the low cost of bikes.

Vicky was kind enough to lend me her bike, and I'm sure I turned many heads and generated many cries of "crazy annasara" (foreigner)--just as I no doubt generated many exclamations of "crazy gringo" in Honduras. The Peace Corps bikes were in excellent condition, and I put the one to good use, speeding around town. On a few occasions, I passed some slow-moving mopeds, to my great delight and amusement. Another time, I had just pedaled up a long hill and was waiting for a traffic light to turn when a motorcycle driver said something to me. I told him he was going to have to repeat himself, and I eventually heard him say "Armstrong"--as in "Lance Armstrong." He seemed comfortable speaking French, so I tried to get across that Lance didn't have to worry about sub-Saharan weather--only mountains, so it was a trade-off. I think he may have understood what I was saying, but the light turned and we both headed off.

For my money, one of the more illuminating things about Niamey is how "share the road" isn't a road sign but a way of life. Cars, bikes, pedestrians and donkey carts share the same road--pictured here is the two-lane Kennedy Bridge--the only span over the Niger River for miles, improbably named after the 35th President. I have video of me biking over this bridge on my Picasa Web Albums page.

One thing you may notice--I pass by some other cyclists, and not slow passes, either. I may or may not be in better shape than they are, and their bikes may be slowing them down, too. I'm pretty sure, though, that they're making a conscious effort to go slowly, to avoid getting all hot and sweaty. That is one stereotype of Africa that was true in my experience: it's hot, especially if you're doing any kind of physical activity. I was out for about an hour and a half, and must have sweat about a gallon. These guys, probably not so much.

Finally--in Ayorou I saw several instances of Obama-themed clothing. After a while it got passé to see the president's visage even in the remotest corners, but I was able to get my camera out fast enough to capture this Obamacloth shirted donkey cart passenger in Ayorou.

There's a group of American Rotary members here in Niamey this week, and I've been living not-so-vicariously through them. They're here on a trip to inaugurate some wells they sponsored to provide reliable drinking water to people in the villages where they're located.

We stopped first to see the mayor of Torodi, a village about an hour's drive southwest of Niamey. We also stopped to have a look around a health clinic there.

I was amused to see a faded Peace Corps logo painted on the gate to some kind of compound; it seems that there had been a regional sub-office there at some point.

Finally, they stopped at some wells in the area that they had sponsored in a previous year, to see how they were doing. While we were there, some locals came by to get some water and we posed for a picture.

They're also here to see what there is to be seen, with an expedition yesterday a few miles up the Niger River to see hippopotami in their natural environment.That was quite a treat. We started by getting into a large canoe with an outboard motor.

And soon enough, saw some hippos! They were not super photogenic.

We also got off the boat at a small village to walk around.

In this village, there were, inexplicably, lots of bats.

I've arrived in Niger! Sitting in the Peace Corps office in Niamey, which in many respects is like the Peace Corps office in Tegucigalpa, except they call it a bureau rather than an office for the most part and it has Zarma and Hausa language materials, not Spanish-learning books. As they say, Le plus ça change ... le plus c'est la même chose. Or, I'm told, that's what one sixth of Nigériens would say, since that's the proportion that speaks French. That's right, Nigériens, not to be confused with Nigerians.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to exploring Niamey. I've already got a tentative agreement to have another PCV show me around on bike (it will be my first sub-Saharan biking experience, since I took a spin with Cindy Berning in Morocco for my first African ride) and am obviously looking forward to that.

Photos will come later. Email me to request photos of any certain aspect of the trip!

Traveling, I'm not online as much as I am at home, and certainly not enough to post all the funny things that happen. So here are some Facebook status updates that never made it online, and it's too late now:

is pretty sure the immigration officer in France didn't look at the passport picture, just stamped it.

has only been outside for 10 minutes and is sweating already.has some ideas for names for the camel burger at Café Clock in Fes: McCamel, McBerber, the Berber Burger, the Two-Humper Quarter-Pounder with Cheese...They need some work, but I figure it's too good to pass up this chance to update you on what might have been if I'd had a Facebook or Twitter interface handy.

I'm not quite sure on the reasons, but my flight to Niger was cancelled tonight. Maybe not enough passengers to justify flying a whole plane there (and presumably back again)? In any case, they've put me up at a fine four-star hotel--the nicest place I've stayed in quite a while. It's a big change to go from places with no hot water to this. My other observation is that the regular rate for a room is probably as much as I've spent in the last week for all my expenses.

Hopefully I'll be on the next plane from Casablanca to Niamey. If I'm not, I'll regret it. (OK, enough with the Casablanca references.)

What a whirlwind of a trip. We started in Tangier (with a well-deserved reputation as the hustler capital of North Africa) and wended our way clockwise around Morocco, through Chefchaouen, Meknes, Fes and now to Marrakech, with a detour to the Midelt area to visit my friend Cindy's Peace Corps site. I don't have the time or the bandwidth here for photos or more prose, but I'll get to that sooner or later.

I'll also say that I'm a little disappointed that so many cool things are happening in the U.S. right now, especially in Pittsburgh: Netroots Nation and Bikefest, just to name two, that I'm missing. I'm looking at the schedule of bike events and getting quite jealous, but this has been a great trip and isn't nearly over. And surely there will still be cool things in September when I get back.

So apologies to the reader for not updating more, and I'll try to get something up soon.

Walking around the Dupont Circle neighborhood. Good times.Stopped by the National Museum of the American Indian, which has a good collection but a better building.Fulfilled a long-standing agenda item, going to the National Botanical Garden--one of the few buildings subject to the Architect of the Capitol.Was a visitor at the new Capitol Visitors' Center. Cost overruns or no, it seems very well done. (Told that a certain line was where they took walk-up tours of the Capitol, it was all I could do to refrain from saying "I used to give tours here!")Dumbarton Oaks unfortunately closes at 5 p.m., which left me with precious little time to see their stunningly great collection. Stop by sometime if you're in the area.Washington Nationals baseball game with Bob and Adam (and Stephanie, kind of). When they're not playing the Pirates (as they were earlier this week), I guess I'm a Nats fan!Tomorrow (demain): To France!

There actually was a guy playing steel drums by the Dupont Circle Metro station earlier today, but my drums will be playing mostly from Thursday onward. I've put together a fairly ambitious trip for myself with the main destinations of Morocco and Niger, via Paris, passing through Ghana and for at least an hour on a layover with Royal Air Maroc, Lome, Togo. I get back to the U.S. on September 19.

I'll update more as the trip goes on, but let it suffice to say it's going to be an adventure of the first order, not in the least with some of the logistics of getting to the airport, checking some luggage and all that. Here's hoping I make all my connections, and I don't get too many dirty looks for my not-so-great French!

For a few weeks now I've been working occasionally with Green Gears Pedicabs here in Pittsburgh. Mostly I've been working on the North Shore, Downtown and the South Side (map) where (mercifully) it's pretty flat. I did climb Rialto Street (with a 25 percent grade) yesterday, but that was on a "standard" bicycle, not a pedicab (which weighs probably 4-5 times as much, before passengers' weights are included.)

So far I've had a pattern of an early evening event in the PNC Park/Heinz Field area (a Pirates game the first time, the Independence Day and Regatta festivities the second) and then moving over to East Carson Street and ferrying people around between 10th and 28th Streets. It's a good job and fairly lucrative--for what it is. It's certainly not a full-time position (I don't think there's much of a market on weekdays) and my legs are dead tired after pedaling for over eight hours. Still, I'm getting paid to ride a bike, and as I tell my customers, there's no need to belong to a gym with a job like this. I'm thinking of putting together a narrated tour for the downtown area and marketing it to out-of-towners, or locals, for that matter.

So hop in if you need a ride!

(One can imagine that it's not exactly normal to see professors and others in academic regalia on days other than commencement weekend, but it would be fun if that were the case.)

Whatever else Yale may excel at, one underestimates its knack for pageantry at one's own peril. My dad observed that brass plus percussion makes quite an impressive sound, and so it was at Yale's commencement on May 25.

The myriad chairs set up in the quad of Old Campus were in fact used first for the Class Day exercises, where a guest speaker delivers an address that at other institutions might be in the graduation ceremony itself, and there are any number of in jokes made. In any case, undergraduates observe a tradition that dictates the wearing of nonstandard hats and other headwear.

We also went to the Baccalaureate (not of an explicitly International variety) where Yale President Richard Levin delivered some not-especially enthralling remarks on the economics of a college degree and its possibly not-apparent value in a time of economic recession.

We arrived a bit late and wound up sitting in what Roger Babusci often called the "nosebleed section" (so high up in a balcony that the air is noticeably thinner and will burst blood vessels, in the joke's formulation), behind the Yale Glee Club which performed Randall Thompson's Alleluia, a university event classic, it would seem (the Rice Chorale performed the same piece, also from a balcony, at President David Leebron's inauguration in October 2004). During a singing of Joyful, joyful, we adore Thee, we of course sang the interior verses in the parts as prescribed by The Hymnal 1982 as best as we could remember, and an astonished Glee Club member turned around and asked us "did you just make those parts up on the spot?" We're good, but not that good.

Noteworthy, perhaps, is that the venue for that was Woolsey Hall, a large space used for concerts and other events, with a famous (to me, anyway) double-wide seat, visible in the photo, allegedly built for William Howard Taft (class of 1878) and his ample girth.

The baccalaureate concluded with the playing of Pomp and Circumstance by Edward Elgar, which, we were pleased to no end to see had had its U.S. début in that very hall. Somehow, the classic "graduation song" seemed to be a perfect fit for the Woolsey Hall organ, and upon reading that, it became evident why that was.

The actual commencement began, as do many, with waiting, and was observed, as other events have been, chiefly on a Jumbotron screen. We observed that Hillary Clinton, among a distinguished set of luminaries, was set to receive an honorary degree from her legal alma mater. I, for one, noted the lack of Secret Service coverage and speculated that she would receive it in absentia, but I was happy to be proven wrong when the Secretary of State came through Phelps Gate with the rest of the degree candidates and then received her diploma on the dais with everyone else.

Ted, of course, was also in that procession, and can perhaps now mention that he was in Hillary Clinton's class at Yale... after a fashion.

Thereupon followed the diploma ceremonies at each residential college and, I'm told, each graduate school.

I'll take this moment to comment on the academic dress custom at Yale, and in short, I find it deficient when compared to the practice at Rice, based on my cursory examination. Hoods are not worn by undergraduates, and college affiliation is indicated by pins and cryptic adornments such as the bunches of grapes visible above (in this case, a reference to the implicit vine of Qui transtulit sustinet, the motto of Saybrook College, not to mention the state of Connecticut). One can see how the college-identifying stole and the hood, indicating to those familiar with the code the degree, field, and granting institution, work together one some 2006 graduates from Hanszen College.

But I digress.

After a banquet at Saybrook, it was time to do some final packing (and more importantly, final throwing-away) and then we hit the road.

The Yale thing has been big the last few days but I can't seem to get away from some other topics:

Pirates hats! People are wearing Pittsburgh Pirates baseball caps all out of proportion to what I perceive to be the logical distribution. I saw at least three in Philadelphia and four in New York City, mostly on the street or on public transit, and I'm pretty sure one guy in New Haven had one on that I saw earlier tonight.Pregnancy! I couldn't turn around this week without seeing someone's baby bump. (Do people still use that term?) It just seems that two weeks ago, I wasn't seeing any expectant mothers and now every other woman is anticipating such a blessed event. What's going on here?People asking me for directions! I'm really flattered that people would think I'm competent and knowledgeable--I get it--but then they ask me "Is this the westbound blue line?" or "Where's Giovanni's?" Or, "Did you just make up that tenor line?" (in an appreciative/admiring, not sarcastic tone). But seriously, I'm not from around here, and if I know where your thing is, you're just lucky that I had just seen it while I was walking around the neighborhood. And/or can read the signs in front of us both.

Just an ordinary crosswalk post, right?

Guess again. Looks like someone had a minor budget and license for mischief in New Haven.

Sometimes life just goes a little easy on you.-- Evan Sanchez, January 2009

Pittsburgh: the more things change, the more they stay the same. It's a great place for biking, I'm rediscovering. (In German, would that be Fahrradort?)

Baltimore: more to it than just The Wire, though those kinds of neighborhoods exist, too. They've got great bluegrass music in unlikely places.

Washington: more fun with time to enjoy't. The view down Pennsylvania Avenue still gets me every time.

Philadelphia: Terry Gross sighting! Also, Cézanne, the Mütter Museum and Eastern State Penitentiary were all worthwhile--if pricey.

Me: I know I should plan ahead more, but continue to learn all the wrong lessons.New York: I know a guy who knows someone who knows Judah Friedlander (not to be confused with Saul Friedländer) and Dave Attell, both of whom I saw Tuesday night. Joke of the week at cash-only establishments: "No American Express--but do you accept Metrocards?" And, as I mentioned elsewhere, Fleet Week is prime time for violation of hte no-white-pants-before-Memorial-Day rule.

Next: New Haven. Pictures later. (Careful readers of the blog will notice that I've put up some pictures in those places where I have said that. Impatient readers of the blog can email me and/or leave comments where they especially want visual details of my exploits.)

I'm going out of town for an extended weekend starting tomorrow, probably through May 26. Quite a weekend, I know. Anyway, it just so happens that I'll be missing some great events in Pittsburgh. The Democratic primary election for mayor, for one, and also two bike-related events.

Many readers will know about Beer-Bike, the single greatest college tradition ever. This is, of course, the only and true Beer-Bike, but there's a guy here who's setting up an attractive, if heterodox, alternate conception of the term.

The East End Brewing Company has an annual launch party for its seasonal Pedal Pale Ale. The party takes the form of a Keg Ride, where the brewer loads the season's first keg in a bike trailer over to an undisclosed location, and anyone who shows up on a bike and rides from his Homewood South brewery to the designated bar gets a free pint. Not a bad deal, except that I'll miss this year's version.

Consider yourself advised for next year.

Something strange started happening to me in my last week in Chapel Hill: I started running into people. It didn't happen that often, but I did see someone from the compline choir at the Orange County dump, a Chapel of the Cross parishioner on the street and someone else at the post office, not to mention the faces I started to recognize in different places, having been now for the first time in Chapel Hill long enough to be a consistent patron at various establishments--does that make sense? So the phenomenon I so enjoyed on visits to Pittsburgh started to present itself in this other context, but only as I'm heading out on other trajectories.

I'd say it's just my luck, but I actually have had a lot of very good luck recently. So let's say I've been lucky to get to know so many people in North Carolina, and will be able to meet even more people in Pittsburgh.

Well, not really, but kind of. The sale of the house in Chapel Hill closed today (Wednesday) and the house in Pittsburgh doesn't close until tomorrow (Thursday) so I don't currently have a legal residence, I suppose, but I will soon. We had around 350 boxes on the truck, plus furniture etc. Lots of fun adventures of unpacking!

There's a big United Van Lines truck on the street outside the house now, with about half our stuff in it, the other half in boxes inside the house. We've been anticipating this for a while now, and our wait is almost over.

A number of people from our church threw a terrific party on Friday night, and we've been making the social rounds for a few weeks now. Having said goodbye to most folks, I feel we need to get going to avoid the "aren't you gone yet?" syndrome.

I feel like I've moved a lot in recent years--in and out of dorm rooms, various rooms and houses in Peace Corps--but moving an apartment is a much smaller task than a full-fledged house. Just a little note to self there.

I've got an LSAT class tomorrow night, but will drive all day Wednesday to Pittsburgh. Only a few hours left here.

Well, the hypothetical is now very much concrete. There's a team of three guys--all of them very nice--going through the house packing everything up in boxes. We'll be living out of suitcases for most of 5 days on this end, it seems, and then a while after that in Pittsburgh. It's happening!

This feels like I'm stripping the altar on Maundy Thursday.

-- My dad, taking the computer, printer and phone off the house's main office desk before the Craigslist buyer came over to take it awayAs previously announced, the family is moving. This has, for me, involved getting rid of tons of stuff. Lots of books and old electronics recently, but in around November-December, lots of paper, documents and other pseudo-memorabilia. A lot of it was kind of worthless stuff that needed to go, but if by chance I need to know what was on my calculus test in March 2001 or what Barak Naveh said in IB History on April 4, 2002, I’m going to be out of luck.

The reality of moving has come incrementally, and this week was a big watershed. I made probably my 6th full haul of our Passat station wagon to the Goodwill in Durham, and took another load to the Orange County dump. Our church’s rummage sale also received some of our erstwhile gems, and my Craigslist account has been at least decently active. And of course, the aforementioned desk and our washer and dryer, another Craigslist purchase. (The new buyers evidently don't want these, and the new place has its own.)

I have a calendar with a handful of farewell social engagements--dinners and parties of various sorts--which are of course welcome but seem to necessarily clutter up this already-busy time. I have some strange sort of senioritis (an inflammation of the senior, of course) where I'm almost ready for it just to be over. But then I think about it and no, I'm not really ready. Though there will be some welcome end to the constant cycle of cleaning and purging--or at least it will take on a new character as I see what fits in the new house. And, one imagines at some point, I see what I need to take with me as I pursue one of the many excellent jobs I plan on having offered to me.

I've moved a lot in the last couple years, but this seems different. Hopefully it's just as good an experience as any before has been.

Two big events this year! Between the inauguration and the Steelers Super Bowl win #6, there's been a lot to celebrate. And look at the similarities in celebrations: a parade for Obama, a parade for the Steelers. Around 1.8 million for Obama, 350,000 for the Steelers--Pittsburgh football fans seem to turn out more heavily than the average Obama supporter, though there's a stronger geographic concentration for the Steelers, I'd say.

Anyway, it's been a good year so far--let's see what the next big, good, great thing is!

OK, that title is too easy.

Last Sunday the Presidential Inaugural Committee held a concert at the Lincoln Memorial as part of the Inaugural Opening Ceremonies, with spectators seated around the Reflecting Pool in Constitution Gardens. I went and enjoyed it thoroughly.

Lines were the order of the day--of the whole week, really. I deduced, and the press reported, that the Sunday concert was something of a dry run for Tuesday's inaugural ceremony, as much for the spectators as for the organizers, to know what to expect--but then moreso.

Another theme of the week turned out to be the (presumably unlicensed) sale of Obama merchandise. Hats, shirts, buttons--everything was for sale. My favorite product was an "Obama air freshener." No joke.Getting to the Lincoln Memorial area was a bit of an adventure. Much of downtown Washington was blocked off to vehicular traffic. Military police with Humvees were stationed along 23rd Street and Virginia Avenue, Northwest, the route from the GWU-Foggy Bottom Metro station to the designated entry point to the Constitution Garden grounds where spectators were to be admitted, near 19th Street and Constitution Avenue, Northwest. I and some other would-be concertgoers wanted to take up a more brisk pace than the adagio moving average on the sidewalks and stepped into the streets, empty but for the security personnel. Evidently fast-moving pedestrians are a threat to national security, and we were ordered back onto the sidewalk by guys with guns wearing balaclavas. They didn't seem especially open to persuasion, and I was in a hurry to beat the crowd, so I mostly obeyed that directive.

The crowds, by the way, were tremendous, and when I finally reached the sidewalk where we were all searched for contraband, there was a rewarding sense that we weren't going to let anyone cut in line. I suppose all of us were tempted, but there was a lot of peer pressure not to do so. (Though once inside, people trying to push through the crowded mob were sometimes playfully heckled "VIPs coming through! Everybody let these VIPs come through here!")

So I and my 300,000 new best friends arrived early and waited for the program to begin. It was as crowded as anything I've ever experienced. I sorted my way through and (unhappily) wound up two or three "rows" of people in front of four loud schmucks, who insisted on providing a running commentary of lame peanut gallery-esque comments--mostly jokes at the presenters' expense, interspersed with calling out occasional Blackberried updates on the ongoing Eagles-Cardinals playoff game. The culprits included the guy in the backwards blue baseball cap and his nearby buzz-cutted friend. Fortunately, I had the good sense to distance myself from these knuckleheads about halfway through the event.

I counted myself lucky at 6'4" to see over most everyone's heads, up to the Lincoln Memorial and the big screens, but shorter visitors would have had mostly a view of the back of other peoples' heads. A couple people went Zacchaeus-style, climbing up trees with varying degrees of success and, one imagines, comfort.

Honestly, at about a quarter mile away, all anyone could see was the Jumbotrons, either more or less obstructed. And so, I have a series of pictures of the Lincoln Memorial and Jumbotrons with celebrities.

The show got started with an invocation by the Right Reverend V. Gene Robinson, Episcopal Bishop of New Hampshire, whose audio feed was inaudible to the crowd until near the end. I'm told that HBO's later repackaging of the event cuts out this segment and can only speculate that this played a part in the opening audio snafu.

Bruce Springsteen and a red-robed gospel choir sang The Rising (an Obama campaign event staple), and Martin Luther King, III, spoke.

People didn't quite display proper symphony etiquette, loudly talking on cell phones and to one another during all the performances and speeches (especially the aforementioned knuckleheads behind me) but I could hear most of the event. Frequent overflies by planes on the River Visual approach to DCA made it hard to hear every word. Though it must have been cool to be on one of those planes and look out to see this tremendous mass of people

I knew some of who was going to be in the starting lineup--U2 and Bruce Springsteen, among others--but was truly astonished when Steve Carrell, of The Office fame, came out, speaking as neither Michael Scott or his Daily Show persona. Stevie Wonder joined in a medley much more characteristic of his public profile.

Samuel L. Jackson resisted what must have been a strong urge to make a Snakes on a Plane reference. Tom Hanks (not pictured) read from Aaron Copeland's Lincoln Portrait--inevitable, I suppose, at the Lincoln Memorial, with another Illinois president and Lincoln admirer about to assume office.

There were a host of other presenters, but the two biggest names were probably Bono and Obama. U2 was the exception in two regards: the only non-American act and the only to play two songs--two rockin' songs, I might add. Maybe not everyone was or is the biggest U2 fans, but I was glad to hear City of Blinding Lights (another from the campaign event playlist) and Pride (In the Name of Love).

Then the president-elect spoke for a few moments.

I think there were a few other speakers after that, and a big sing-along of This Land is Your Land, but it wound down quickly, and the task at hand became how to disperse a quarter million people. The police sensibly discarded their policy of "no pedestrians in the streets" policy (in force just a few hours before) and let us all go on our merry way.

My merry way led me up 17th Street, passing the Red Cross headquarters bedecked for the occasion and those same soldiers/MPs from earlier, now posing for photos with (mostly female) civilians in front of their Humvees. (One cameraman asked his subject to flash him a peace sign, but the sergeant pictured here on the left resolutely gave him only a thumbs-up, perhaps in deference to orders to be nonpolitical while in uniform.)

Even more amusingly, near the DAR Constitution Hall, either Fred Phelps' group or copycats set up a few anti-gay picketers. This was either a smart or very dumb move, to catch thousands upon thousands of Obama supporters just having been rallied up by not one but two leaders known as "The Boss," and some pro-gay marriage activists were either very quick in reacting or very well prepared, setting up a counter-protest which gained much more sympathy from the passing crowd.

I met up later that evening with some high school friends from Pittsburgh, where we watched parts of the Steelers-Ravens game, culminating with a Steelers win (of course), and stopped by a Capitol Hill Steelers bar.

What a day!