Elementary Ethics

I watched the Podish-Sortacast today because I thought it would be interesting to hear other FtBloggers talk about how they became atheists.  The reason I bring that up is that, during the wrapup, PZ remarked that arguments for and against the supernatural really aren’t that interesting because they tend to be the same old arguments that have been made for centuries.  Far more important these days are various social issues like humanism, ethics and social justice, which I agree with; so I thought I’d jump in with my own admittedly abecedarian understanding of ethics.  Maybe commenters can help me get my thoughts more orderly.

Almost certainly because of the way that I was raised, there are a couple of points that I treat as if they were axiomatic:

  1.  People are more important than things.

  2.  It’s not all about me, and not all about my tribe.

Point 2 makes it easy for me to reject egoism and relativism as ethical principles; but between utilitarianism and a more Kantian approach, I confess to being very confused; and indeed I’m skeptical about both of them.  “The greatest good for the greatest number” doesn’t really have any meaning absent a calculus for it; and it has always seemed to me to be a pretty good general principle that the consequences of my behavior matter.

But point 1 means that I have an obligation to get through the day without being a jerk…without causing harm to others, and particularly without exhibiting the pridefullness and hatefullness that we see in the loudest of the far right; and so, as a practical matter, I need to pick one.  I tend to be more Kantian about big issues (things like hatred of folks not like me are just wrong); but I’m more utilitarian about smaller matters that are well understood.  (Should I get my flu shot?  Yeah, sure:  herd immunity.  That’s not the only reason, but it’s a sufficient reason.)

Have I gotten off on the right foot at least?  I hope so because, at age 76, I’m pretty set in my ways. 😎

More Cancer Thoughts

Introduction

I have a telephone appointment with a cancer surgeon on Tuesday, and I’ll probably be referred to an oncologist who can discuss various treatment options; and since I’m more comfortable with the written word than with the spoken word, principally because I can fix my mistakes before others know that I’ve made them 😎 , I want to write a short post to get my thoughts together in (I hope) some cogent way, and maybe to help the doctors be prepared with objections if they think I’m on the wrong track.

It’s possible that they’ll want me to communicate on-line using something called “MyChart”, but the messages that I can send are kind of like what I imagine tweets to be except for allowing more characters, so I’ve split this into four sections that will easily fit into four MyChart messages.  In any event, I’ll try to keep it short.

My goals

First of all, since I don’t believe in the supernatural, I’m not afraid of being dead:  it seems highly unlikely to me that there will be any me to be dead.

But I’m guessing that the process of dying won’t be any fun; so I think I’d like that to happen in some controlled way rather than, say, being surprised by a heart attack.  At present, I think I’d want to let the cancer take its normal course, eventually in some kind of hospice care where they keep me as comfortable as is legal in Missouri (most definitely a red state).

Also, since I’m a fairly extreme introvert, I don’t have anyone that I’d be selfishly leaving behind.

My questions

What I’m hoping for are guesses, for various treatment options, about how much time I have left 1) to be sufficiently independent that I can travel to meetings of an ISO standards committee that I serve on and 2) to retain sufficient cognitive abilities (e.g., not all hopped up on pain killers) that I can still use my computer.

– I’ve already made all the reservations for the trip to Hawaiʻi in November.

– I’ll probably just Zoom in to the Tokyo meeting in March in any event because I wouldn’t want to sit in an airplane long enough to get there.

– I’d like to make one or both of the Summer and Fall meetings in 2024 if I’m still around then.

Bottom line

I understand that surgery is the best option to let me die of something other than cancer; but like I said, that’s not my goal.

Can I make any reasonable guesses about how much longer I’d have a reasonable quality of life given other treatment options (including doing nothing at all)?  I’m not nearly as good at math as I’d like to be, but I understand some elementary statistics.  If I can get median, mean and standard deviation, I’d know what to do with that.  Alternatively, if I can get min and max along with probabilities that those numbers are close, I could deal with that as well.

With that information, I think I could make a rational decision about what I’d want to do and to make plans for it.

Update 2023-07-12:  as expected, the surgeon couldn’t really talk about anything except surgery; but he did refer me to a radiation guy with whom I have an appointment in a couple of days.

Since writing this post originally, I’ve made an offer to host a meeting of the C++ standards committee next summer (the plan for Stockholm has fallen through); so there’s now some urgency to decide on a course of treatment, possibly including doing nothing at all, that will give me a good likelihood of still being active enough for a year or so to do all the necessary administrivia.  We’ll see…

Human Resources

In a comment to one of PZ’s posts, jeanmeslier wrote:

Imagine being reduced to a resource …

Don’t get me started on the “Human Resources” paradigm of business management.

OK, you got me started.

<rant>
The Human Resources paradigm is fundamentally flawed because it denies the moral distinction between people and things.

Oh, it makes operational distinctions:  it recognizes that people are more complicated than “other things”; and it recognizes that people are more “costly” than “other things”; but it asserts positively that managers ought to treat their employees decently for the same set of reasons that, say, carpenters sharpen their saws.

It’s that “for the same set of reasons” bit that’s the error; and it’s an error that can’t be fixed.  You can’t wash it off and peel the skin; it’s rotten to the core.  All you can do is throw it away and hope that the next one isn’t so disgusting.
</rant>

OK, having gotten that off my chest, I’ll back off slightly and allow as how the Human Resources paradigm does have one bit of utility:  it presents an argument that the Mr. and Ms. WIIFMs* of the world can comprehend.

*WIIFM — pronounced WIFum — “What’s in it for me?” — actually taught as a Good Thing in pseudoscientific pop psychology classes at the American Management Association.

About the Lung Cancer

I had an appointment with a thoracic surgeon yesterday and now have a pretty good idea of what the surgery would be like if I were to opt for that.  I still don’t have any understanding of what radiation treatment would be like, nor a likely prognosis if I were to do nothing at all.  I might hear more about that tomorrow or Friday.

At present, I’m thinking that I’d want to just be put in some kind of hospice care where I’d be kept as comfortable as is legally possible in a red state until I faded away.  I’m not afraid of “being dead” since I don’t think that there will be any me to be dead.  It’s probably a pretty good guess that I won’t like the process of dying; but that’s going to happen in any event; and it might be easier if it happens in a controlled way rather than unexpectedly (like a heart attack or something).  Also, since there’s nobody who depends on me for anything, it’s not like I’d be selfishly leaving anyone behind.

We’ll see how it goes…

I Did a Stupid Thing

I expect to be taking a trip to Hawaiʻi in November [current itinerary]; and with a remarkable (and I hope uncharacteristic) lack of impulse control, I inquired about chartering a plane for the round trip.*

It turns out that I’d need at least a mid-sized jet in order to carry enough fuel to get from the west coast of the Americas half way across the Pacific; and I was given an estimate that, at the high end, is almost one third of my net worth.

The guy I spoke to said that he’d get back to me with a more detailed price, but I haven’t heard from him yet as I write this.  I hope that he figured out that I’m not in the group from which he gets his regular customers, and that he doesn’t have to waste any more time on the likes of me. 😎

*Since I might not be around much longer than that for medical reasons, and since there’s nobody else who depends on this extreme introvert for anything, I briefly thought that it would be OK to significantly spend down my savings on a whim.  On further reflection, I finally got it through my thick skull that a nice donation to a charity (which my current will provides) would actually do some good, and spewing all that carbon into the atmosphere for one fool’s convenience would actually do some bad.  I’ll stick with conventional first-class travel, which is flamboyant enough, and which would happen whether or not I were along for the ride.

ChatGPT Fun

On an Amtrak-related e-mail list that I frequent (AllAboardRailDiscussion@groups.io if you care), one of the regulars had a bit of fun with ChatGPT.  I found it amusing; and since ChatGPT has come up on FtB before, I thought I’d repost it here with the author’s permission.

Alan Klein:

Explain how to change a piston in the General Motors 16-567D diesel engine, using the language of the Old Testament

ChatGPT:

In the days of old, when the General Motors 16-567D diesel engine was in need of repair, behold, the changing of a piston required a process as intricate as the weaving of fine linen.  Let me recount to you the steps, as if told in the language of the Old Testament.

1.  Verily, gather the necessary tools and prepare the sacred space.  Anoint your hands with oil, and set the engine in a state of rest upon a foundation of solid ground.

2.  Unfasten the bolts that bind the cylinder head and separate it from the engine block.  Lo, the power of your arm shall overcome the grip of the fasteners, as Samson overcame the Philistines.

3.  Once the cylinder head is removed, thou shalt find the piston nestled within the chamber, encased in rings of steel.  Take heed, for the rings must be removed, as a warrior discards his armor before battle.

4.  Carefully, with the precision of a master craftsman, remove the wrist pin that connects the piston to the connecting rod.  As Moses parted the Red Sea, thou shalt separate the piston from its mighty connection.

5.  Now, with the old piston removed, place the new piston upon the altar of the engine block.  Align the rings upon the piston, ensuring they are in their proper order and seated with care.

6.  Inscribe the wrist pin into its ordained position, uniting the piston with the connecting rod.  Let not the pin falter, for it is the bond that shall withstand the fires of combustion.

7.  Once the piston is in place, return the cylinder head to its rightful position.  Tighten the bolts with the strength of Samson, ensuring a firm and secure union between head and block.

8.  Finally, breathe life into the engine once more.  Ignite the fire within, and may the pistons move with the grace of David‘s harp, producing the melodious symphony of power and efficiency.

Thus, with the guidance of ancient wisdom and a touch of modern knowledge, thou shalt have changed a piston in the General Motors 16-567D diesel engine.  May your endeavors be fruitful, and may the spirit of the Old Testament guide your mechanical pursuits.

Varna Trip Report, days twelve and thirteen

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2023-06-19 05:30−4:

There wouldn’t be enough time for breakfast in the hotel restaurant before I would want to check out, but there was a kind of coffee shop that opened at 05:30 where I got a Danish pastry to hold me over for a while.

06:00:

I checked out of the hotel and caught a taxi to South Station.

I had originally booked the accessible bedroom in the Lake Shore Limited’s Boston section; but because of track work, my reservation had been changed to a bus from Boston to Albany-Rensselaer where I would board 449.  Since I would rather ride a train than a bus, I changed my reservation several weeks ago to Northeast Corridor train 171 to New York and then the Ethan Allan Express train 291 to Rensselaer.

<aside>
The station is actually in Rensselaer, NY, just across the river from Albany.
</aside>

I arrived at South Station fairly early intending to head to the Metropolitan Lounge to let somebody know that I wouldn’t be on the bus to Rensselaer.  I was worried that my reservation from Rensselaer would be cancelled when I was a no-show for the bus.

The lounge hadn’t opened yet because nobody had showed up, so I went to the ticket counter to explain my concern, but the guy I talked to had no clue what I was talking about.  The Met. Lounge opened up a few minutes after that, so I went up there and the lounge attendant assured me that everything was OK with my reservation and that I wouldn’t be expected on the bus.  Since I had a same-day sleeper ticket on 449 out of Rensselaer, I was allowed to wait in the Met. Lounge, have a cup of coffee, and get caught up on the Internet.  I was hoping for another sweet roll or something, but Boston’s Met. Lounge doesn’t put out breakfast-style munchies, just chips and such.  That’s not up to the standards that I remember from earlier trips.

08:00:

About fifteen minutes before 171’s scheduled departure, I headed down to the train.  The biz.-class car was the first one I came to, so that would be the last car on the train.  The quiet car was right in front of that, then a bunch of coaches, and the café car all the way in front.  I wasn’t about to walk the whole train just to get to the café, so no breakfast for me except for the Danish I’d had back at the hotel.

08:15:

We departed right on time.  I had a seat on the fireman’s side, so I got to look at all the boats along the shore (when Amtrak’s Shore Line is actually running along the shore, mostly just in eastern Connecticut).

12:25:

The trip to New York City was uneventful, and we arrived a couple of minutes early.

I had the redcap take me to the baggage checking place where I checked one bag on train 49 all the way to St. Louis.  The baggage guy didn’t want to do that because Amtrak’s reservation system doesn’t recognize 49 as a connection to 449 even though it’s the same damn train departing Rensselaer.  The redcap was helpful to me in convincing the baggage guy that it would be OK.

Once I was rid of my larger bag, I had only my walker and the smaller bag that I’d have with me on the next train, and so I thanked and tipped the redcap.

I went to the Met. Lounge hoping that the attendant would be able to give me a coach seat on 49 which would give me more time in New York to compose this post, but she was a newbie and couldn’t be convinced that 49 and 449 were the same train, so I’m still on 291 from New York to Rensselaer.

The Met. Lounge in New York is fancier than the one in Boston, but none of the food looked appetizing.  I guess I’ll have a late lunch from the café on 291.

ca. 14:00:

Train 291 started boarding and I didn’t need redcap assistance to get me to the train, but I asked at the redcap counter for directions to the elevator down to the track 5 platform.  I’m glad I did because I never would have found it without knowing where to go from the start.  I boarded 291 with only about five minutes to spare.

291 has a café car like the ones I’m used to on the Chicago-St. Louis-Kansas City corridor trains:  a café counter in the middle, tables at the end of the car nearest the coaches, and very comfortable 2-1 biz.-class seating on the other side.  All the 1-up seats were taken by the time I boarded, but I wound up with two seats to myself for the whole trip to Rensselaer.

14:20:

We departed New York on-time.  The café didn’t open until 15:20, so there was no time for anything real to eat.  I just had a coke and a bag of pretzels.

16:45:

After another uneventful ride, we arrived in Albany-Rensselaer about four minutes early.  I made a beeline to the ticket counter where I was assured that I still had my accessible bedroom on 449 even though I wasn’t on the bus from Boston.

There’s a little coffee shop in the Rensselaer station where I had some mac and cheese and a hotdog…not much of a meal, but it was the best that they could do for me.

I’ll have about a two-hour wait for 449.

ca. 18:30:

Boarding 449 started.

It turned out that the 449 equipment had deadheaded from Sunnyside Yard in Queens today, so I probably could even have gotten in my room in New York; but there was no way I could have explained that to any of the ticket agents there.  (I find it a bit disconcerting that J. Random Passenger knows more about Amtrak operations than Amtrak employees do.  Oh, well…)

The 449 sleeper is all the way in the front of the train, so I had a bit of a hike.  As expected, I’m in a Viewliner I accessible bedroom; so I still have no idea what the Viewliner II arrangement is.

I elected not to have dinner from the “flexible dining menu”.  The café car is the next car back, but I didn’t really want anything from that either.

We were basically on-time all the way to Syracuse where I went to bed a little bit hungry, which is probably good for me once in a while.

2023-06-20, ca. 05:00:

I woke up for the stop in Cleveland where we were running about one hour late.

The TA hadn’t made any coffee and didn’t have any extra bottles of water out:  we were supposed to go to the café which was the next car back, so that was OK.  I also got a rather large blueberry muffin for breakfast which was just as good as anything that the TA would have brought me from the “dining car”.

<aside>
Dolly:  “The Americans have something they call muffins, but they’re just tea cakes with raisins!”
Miss Marple:  “The Americans certainly have a lot to answer for.”
— Agatha Christie, The Body in the Library
</aside>

10:42−5:

We stayed about one hour late for the rest of the trip; and thanks to schedule padding, we arrived in Chicago about half an hour late.  I had thought that they might have shortened the dwell time in Toledo, but that didn’t happen.  In any event, I had plenty of time to make the connection to the last train of my trip.

ca. 11:30:

I opted for a slice of pizza from Sbarro’s for lunch.

13:30:

The Texas Eagle started boarding, and we departed right on time.  We didn’t get delayed on the Canadian National tracks between Chicago and Joliet this time, and stayed basically on-time all the way to St. Louis.

For some reason, the café car didn’t open until 15:00, already twenty minutes passed Joliet.

I had popped for a roomette in the sleeper on train 21, so I’d be comfortable on my last leg of the trip, and I’d at least get one of the reheated meals in the “diner” for supper.  When the LSA showed up making dinner reservations, he apparently was a newbie as well, and my TA, who I guess was also qualified as an SA, had to help him with filling out the food ticket.  I opted for the baked ziti and meatballs.

<aside>
TA – train attendant, the crew who assist passengers in the sleepers and coaches.
SA – service attendant, the food service crew.
LSA – lead service attendant.
</aside>

After a while, the LSA showed up again to say that my dinner selection wouldn’t be available.  Since we had just started the trip, it’s not like they ran out; and I have no idea what their excuse was.  I decided on the short ribs and mashed potatoes which turned out to be not too bad.

18:54:

Nothing much out of the ordinary happened on this leg either; and thanks to schedule padding, after a brief stop to align a switch which hadn’t been set correctly to get us on the right track, we arrived in St. Louis about twenty minutes early.

It took about half an hour for the checked baggage to make it to the baggage claim area in the station, but I finally got my bag (the baggage guy in New York had done the right thing after all) and drove home on city streets rather than blast down I-55.

About all I could do when I got home was some minimal unpacking.  I listened to the Cardinals’ game on the radio (they lost again) and crawled into bed, which is why writing this report and posting it had to wait until the next morning.

I still owe the blog a report about how the meetings went in Varna.  2023-07-12:  I got sidetracked by the cancer business and don’t really remember much about the meeting.  I’ll try to do better after the next trip in November.

Varna Trip Report, day eleven

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2023-06-18 06:30+2:

When I checked in at the hotel, I had declined the “breakfast included” option because I doubted that I’d have 21€ worth of food.  What I hadn’t been told is that the breakfast buffet would be the only option until lunch time.  I had breakfast anyway; and when I went by the front desk to inform them that I had done that and still needed to pay, I discovered that the price would now be 26€. 8-(

My Icelandair flight to Keflavík doesn’t depart until 14:10, so I won’t need to check out of the hotel until 11:00 or so.  That will give me plenty of time to catch up on the usual on-line reading and to craft readable prose for, and publish, my day-10 report.

11:00:

I asked at the information counter where Icelandair’s check-in place is, and they told me number 2.  When I got there, they told me that Icelandair wasn’t there yet, and I’d have to wait until 11:30.  At 11:30, still no Icelandair.  I asked again, and a very nice woman behind the counter looked it up and said I should go to check-in 0.  I didn’t even know that there was such a place, but I was directed to go through a door to security and saw the check-in 0 sign just above the door.  I never would have found that just searching around.

As expected, I checked one bag; and they put a baggage tag on my walker and told me where to sit to wait for the wheelchair assistance.  It took a good fifteen or twenty minutes for them to arrive; but when they did, I followed the wheelchair guy to the bulky baggage check-in place where they took my walker; then I got wheeled to a first-class lounge.

In the lounge, I had a couple of meatballs, some rice, and some Pepsi Max; but I didn’t want to eat very much because I’d get fed again on the plane.

ca 13:20+2:

Another wheelchair guy showed up to take me to the gate, and after a wait of about ten minutes or so, down the jetway to the plane.  This airplane has nine rows of what one expects for business-class seating.  I’m in seat 2D on the aisle on the copilot’s side in the second row.  (Do airline folks talk about the pilot’s and copilots’s sides of the plane.  I’m guessing that they actually say “port” and “starboard”.  I’ll have to ask somebody.)

15:25Z:

We landed in Keflavík right on the advertised.

There was no wheelchair at the plane’s door.  I had to walk the entire length of the jetway, stopping once for about 30 seconds to lean on my carry-on bag’s handle for a bit, where I met the wheelchair person who took me to the Saga Class lounge.

My flight to Boston doesn’t leave until 19:05Z, so another wheelchair will come for me around 18:20 or so.  I’ll have about two hours to wait.

I didn’t want any food; but I found a place where I could get my computer out and write, and proofread, this post up to this point.

ca. 18:50:

My wheelchair still hasn’t shown up and, particularly scary, my flight has disappeared from the departure board.  I started to ask about the flight at the Saga Lounge desk when the wheelchair person arrived without the wheelchair.  She had to go someplace to get one.  I asked about the flight not being on the screen any more, but the lounge attendant just sat there without saying anything.

After heading through passport control (I’m now leaving the Schengen area), we headed for the gate where passengers were standing in a boarding line, but the line wasn’t moving.  My being in a wheelchair allowed me to cut in line right behind another passenger needing assistance.  We stayed there for ten or fifteen minutes with no clue what was happening.

After a while, I got wheeled down the jetway to the plane, but they still weren’t ready for us.  If I hadn’t had the wheelchair, I’d have been hurting.  It’s not walking that’s a problem for me; it’s that my back doesn’t want me verticle for more than a few minutes without having something to lean on, and so standing in line for more than a couple of minutes doesn’t work well.

OK, I made it on the plane, so I guess I’m really headed for Boston after all.

We finally pulled from the gate at 19:50Z…yet another 45-minute delay on top of the reschedule I found out about a couple of days ago.  I have no clue why we were so late.  The current estimate as of 18:30−4 (I’ve already set my watch to Boston time as I write this) is for an arrival around 20:40, give or take.

20:55−4:

We pulled up to the gate.  After about only five minutes or so, I was told that my wheelchair was waiting, so I got off the plane.

Next was immigration.  I had gotten Global Entry before COVID, and it was still valid, but I had stupidly neglected to bring the paperwork with me on this trip.  That turned out to be not so bad since being wheeled around in a wheelchair gave me license to cut in line.

I then got wheeled to the checked baggage place where we got directed to two different carousels.  My bag finally showed up at what turned out to the the right one, but much later than expected.  It should have been one of the first few off because of the Saga Class “priority” tag, but it wasn’t.  I was getting worried that it had been lost, but I got it eventually.  While we were waiting, the wheelchair guy went to the large baggage claim and got my walker; so after he wheeled me to the exit, I was independent again and headed for the Hilton Boston Logan which is connected to the airport, but it’s quite a hike.

22:15−4:

I finally got into my hotel room; and since my body clock still thought it was 04:15+2, I basically just fell into bed.

2023-06-19 04:00−4:

I didn’t sleep well for some reason, so I got up early, reprogrammed my scanner with all the railroad frequencies I’d need for the train trip, and finished writing this post.

The final two days probably won’t get published until I get home on Tuesday night.

Varna Trip Report, day ten

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2023-06-17 04:00+3:

I got up early to watch the end of the ballgame on mlb.com.  Six to one Mets after eight; the Cards failed to score in the top of the ninth.  That’s now a six-game losing streak…this isn’t the Cardinals’ year.

After the game, I got caught up on my e-mail and blog reading; and I’m now ready for the day.

Today is the last day of the meeting, a plenary session where we take formal votes.  There are usually 30 or 40 motions; but since all the real work is done in subgroups, it’s expected that most of the motions, if not all of them, will pass by unanimous consent.  If history is any guide, we should be done by the morning break; and I’ll be able to begin working on my report of the meeting.

08:30:

I’ll just zoom into the plenary from my room.  That worked pretty well yesterday, I won’t have to pack up my computer and drag it to the meeting room, and I’ll be able to finishing packing for my trip home during the meeting.

10:15:

As expected, we’re done.  I’ll have more about the meetings in another post.

I was checked out of the hotel by 10:30 and so had plenty of time for lunch before getting the ride to the airport; but I’d had a big breakfast and didn’t really want to eat anything more, the result being that I had about three hours to wait for the taxi that I had scheduled.

13:25:

The taxi showed up a few minutes early.  It was the same guy who had driven us from the airport about a week ago.

ca. 14:00:

I had to check my walker and get wheelchair assistance again.  One thing I noticed, and I can’t remember whether I’ve mentioned it before, is that folks who are being pushed around in wheelchairs get to cut in line at security and at passport control.  I’m not sure that I deserve to do that, but I’ll take it. 😎

The wheelchair guy had to go through the security theater as well.  I apologized for making him put up with that, but he just laughed.  I guess it’s a normal part of the job.

I was dropped off at the business-class lounge where I had a small sandwich and a can of Coke Zero.  The wheelchair guy showed up at the lounge again in time to get me to my flight; but I only had to go out a door on the flight-line side of the lounge where there was another of those trucks that rises and lets you board the plane through the galley-side door.

The plane was like the one in which I had flown eastbound:  all the same 2-2 seating with the first nine rows designated business class.

The flight departed and arrived on time; and it was just a 1.5-hour flight, so the food service was very simple and the cabin crew were kept busy providing only that.

The wheelchair guy met me at the plane door and took me through passport control to enter the Schengen area, then directly to the gate for my next flight.  I got there just as boarding was about to start; but thanks to the wheelchair pusher cutting in line, I boarded the plane before everybody else.

Like my Berlin-Vienna eastbound flight, the plane had all 3-3 coach seating with the first four rows designated business class and the middle seats unsold.

We sat for a while after boarding was complete:  it seems that one of the passengers didn’t check in, and so the crew had to search for them and then remove their checked baggage from the hold when they weren’t found.  This made us about half an hour late.

This was just a one-hour flight and so the cabin crew were kept busy the whole time with the simple food service for the first four business-class rows.

The wheelchair met me at the plane door again, and I was wheeled to the regular baggage claim where my one checked bag showed up after only two or three minutes, and then to the large baggage claim place where my walker already was.  Once I had my walker, I was on my own and walked across the street to the hotel.

I have the same accessible room that I had a week ago:  still a glass-top desk which doesn’t allow using an optical mouse; but I have a workaround.

Icelandair has changed my KEF-BOS flight times such that I’ll get to my hotel in Boston with my body clock thinking it’s the wee hours of the morning on the next day.  The posts for my last three days might not show up until I get home Tuesday night.

Varna Trip Report, days eight and nine

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[day 0]
[day 1]
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[days 6 & 7]

2023-06-15:

Nope, the shop didn’t have the kind of адаптър that I wanted.  Oh well, I’ve been using the two-prong adaptor without the ground connection all week, and nothing bad has happened to my computer yet.  I have no reason to doubt that it’ll continue to work just fine.

I also ordered a taxi for 13:30 on Saturday.  It’s about a half hour drive to the airport, so I should get there around 14:00, two hours before my flight’s scheduled departure.

2023-06-16 07:30:

My alarm clock failed to go off again, so no time for breakfast for me.  I wound up zooming into the meeting from my room, which worked just fine.  The only disadvantage was that I had the “Do not disturb” tag hanging on the doorknob and so didn’t get my bed made.  That’s OK since I wouldn’t have done that at home either. 😎

I haven’t written about the area I’m in because I don’t have much to say.

Across the street from the hotel is a strip of sidewalk shops where one can buy various kinds of kitsch; and there are lots of fast food places and bars, all of which have an open-air look to them.  Just beyond that is a large beach on the shore of the Black Sea.

My room is on the rear of the hotel, and from my balcony I can see a moderately steep slope up the side of a ridge, and basically nothing but other hotels almost all the way up.  A couple of them have a very bleak look on the outside, so I’m guessing that they might be Soviet-era constructions.  The good news is that there’s also plenty of greenery, so it’s not all buildings to look at.

Curiously, all the signs in my hotel are written in both Cyrillic and Hebrew script.  I guess this hotel caters to Israeli tourists.

I can’t give you this American’s (probably misinformed) impression of Bulgarian culture because I don’t think that I’m experiencing it.

I hope to have something more interesting to write about tomorrow.  The meeting will be over in the morning so I can start writing about that, and my trip home will begin in the afternoon.