This last weekend saw the Flotilla conference of artist-run centres come to Charlottetown. What the event lacked in penetrability, it more than made up for in pretense, and the pretense perhaps ran no higher than on the corner of Great George and Kent where a pop-up bookshop was housed in the corner of a vacant storefront.

The shelves of the bookshop, an outpost of Vancouver’s Or Gallery, supplemented by a call for submissions, were stocked with a delightful and well-curated collection of art catalogues, art projects, artist books and art miscellania, all arranged preciously on pop-up shelves. The shop was overseen by a clerk with hiccups; I wasn’t certain whether the hiccups were part of the conceit or not, but, regardless, she played her part well.

While the last thing I need in my life is more art miscellania, I was intrigued by a cassette tape on offer. Not so much for its content, which itself was suitably opaque, but rather for the notion of a cassette tape being on sale at all in 2017.

I have the gift of owning an automobile that still sports a cassette tape player–that’s all it sports; it’s pre-CD and pre-Bluetooth and even pre-AUX. And yet there hasn’t been a cassette tape in it in more than 15 years. So I gave $5 to the hiccuping clerk, and passed, satisfied, back into less rarified civilian air.

The cassette turned out to consist of an interview of one artist by another artist about the music that’s influenced their artistic practice. The music is wide-ranging, from Thai Rock to Sumatran ballads to Syrian synthpop.

I love it.

Driving around town listening to the cassette I realized that I miss the format.

I just popped it into the cassette player and it played.

I didn’t have to enter my Apple ID.

I didn’t have to pair a device with another device.

I didn’t even have to press “play.”

When I turn the car off, the cassette stops playing; when I turn the car back on, the cassette starts back up again. What delightful simplicity we’ve lost.

And, more importantly, once I’ve listened the cassette out, I can pop it out of the player and loan it to my friend Paul. Who can play it for his kids on the cassette player in his car. And when he gives it back to me I can loan it to my friend Josh. Who can loan it to his friend Sam. In the streaming era we’ve entirely lost this ability: 20 years into the web, there remains no way to share music with friends that’s got all the features of the cassette.

I missed the rest of Flotilla in a haze of caring for a child-with-head-cold. But I’m grateful to Flotilla for the gift of this realization.

I got an email this morning from Netflix informing me that my monthly bill is going up; in part:

The cost of your Netflix membership will increase to $10.99 on Monday, October 23rd 2017. Why? So we can add more of what you like to watch, from Wreck Trek to Atypical. Awesome entertainment built around you is what we’re all about. We’ve enhanced our features so you can download your favorites and watch without wifi, too.

The brilliant part of this email is that Netflix mentioned Wreck Trek and Atypical, two shows that Netflix knows I watched every episode of recently.

This was subtle enough to not seem creepy, and it was enough to dull some of the pain of the increase.

A year ago last week, Oliver and I attended “meet the teacher night” at Colonel Gray High School, where Oliver was just starting grade 10.

We gathered with other parents, guardians and students in the school’s cafeteria, and started the night with an introduction to the new school Principal, Dominique Lecours.

Principal Lecours, among other things, spoke proudly of the Danny Murphy Wellness Room, a new facility added to the school that summer that would give students improved access to exercise equipment, weights, and space for activities like yoga.

Oliver and I both noticed that there was some irony in the fact that while she was speaking on the importance of wellness, off to her left was a bank of soda machines selling decidedly unhealthy sugar-sweetened beverages and snacks.

After the formal proceedings, we introduced ourselves to Principal Lecours, and I mentioned my concerns about the soda machines, and she committed to looking into the issue in the weeks to come.

It was an issue we returned to several times over the last school year at Home & School meetings at Colonel Gray, with support from the Healthy Eating Alliance and others, and we committed our support to the school toward seeing the machines removed or replaced.

By the last meeting of the year, in June, the machines were, alas, still there, and I was resigned to the notion that they might be there forever.

At the same meeting, however, Principal Lecours expressed enthusiasm for the new-style water-bottle-refilling fountains that had been installed in the school, and a wish that we could install more. The home and school eagerly embraced this idea, and I promised to see if we could assist practically in some way.

In short order I made contact with Ramona Doyle, the City of Charlottetown’s Sustainability Officer, and Ramona directed me to Betty Pryor, the Charlottetown Water and Sewer Utility Projects Officer, and, after Betty suggested that some help might possibly be forthcoming, I connected her with Principal Lecours and stepped out of the picture.

Last night, a year after our first meeting at the school, we returned to “meet the teacher night” for grade 11, and we were dismayed to see the soda machines were still in place.

Closer examination, however, showed that they were empty:

Again, after the formal proceedings, Oliver and I approached Principal Lecours, this time simply to say hello.

“I’m not going to ask you about the soda machines,” I said, wanting to start the school year on a high note.

“No,” she replied, “I was hoping you would be here: ask me about the soda machines.”

The soda machines, it turns out, are to be removed: there won’t be “vitamin” water on sale any longer. There won’t be Coke and Sprite on sale any longer. There won’t be sugar-sweetened ice tea on sale any longer. All that will remain is water, fruit juice, and milk. And the school has been working with Sharla Goodwin, the new Healthy Eating Program Officer, to outfit the snack machines with healthier options than were there before.

What’s more, Principal Lecours added, the City of Charlottetown had stepped up to fund a new water fountain on the first floor, near the library, and she proudly walked over to show it to us:

The new fountain has a counter on it showing how many bottles of water have been filled since it was installed; school’s been in session only 2 weeks and the counter is already at 891. There’s another fountain in the cafeteria that’s been there longer that has a counter showing 10,958 bottles of water filled:

All the parties in this process deserve a round of applause for their action: Principal Lecours and her staff, the team that figured out the tricky masonry and plumbing job needed to install the fountain in a brick wall, Betty Pryor and Ramona Doyle at the City of Charlottetown, the Healthy Eating Alliance for doing the groundwork on this issue for many years, members of the Home & School for keeping the issue alive over last year, and Sharla Goodwin for working with the school on finding healthier alternatives.

While I’m incredibly happy to see these changes coming, my greatest source of satisfaction is that Oliver got to see, over the arc of a year, how you can raise concerns, patiently bring them forward and connect supporters together, and achieve real action on issues that concern you.

I’m forever telling Oliver that “for every problem there is a solution,” and this was a chance to demonstrate that.

Next time you’re at Colonel Gray, take a bottle and fill it up with water, take note of the counter, and tip your hat in thanks.

From The Battle for the Life and Beauty of the Earth.

It was our friend Catherine Hennessey’s birthday today. As she’s to move out of her house at 222 Sydney Street this fall, I made her sketch to remember her beloved yellow saltbox by.

A couple of months ago I related how I’d been dinged for $30.65 for two road tolls, leaving and returning to Boston, because of Hertz’s use of the extortionate PlatePass system.

To ensure this didn’t happen again, I ordered an E-ZPass transponder of my very own from the E-ZPass New York State Service Center, and it arrived in time for my trip back to New England in late August:

I stuck the transponder on the dash of my rented VW Jetta when I picked the car up on Boston’s Logan Airport on August 27, and I left it there until I returned the car on September 1. Today I received an email notification that my E-ZPass statement was available for download, and here’s what it looks like:

My flight landed at Logan at 9:45 a.m. on Sunday morning; 50 minutes later I went through the Ted Williams Tunnel, heading west, and was billed $1.75 at the TWW plaza; 5 minutes after that I was billed 70 cents when I exited the I-90 at the Allston – West exit (plaza 631).

The following Friday, I did exactly the reverse trip: I was guided by Waze through Cambridge and onto the Turnpike, entering at Allston – East plaza (131), costing 70 cents, and exiting at the Ted Williams Tunnel’s east exit (TWE) where I was billed $1.75.

I covered the same distance on both trips; the Sunday trip, with light traffic, took 5 minutes from entry to exit; the Friday trip, with Labour Day weekend traffic clogging the tunnel, tool 13 minutes (still pretty zippy, considering).

In total I paid $4.90 in tolls, for which I was billed $4.90 in tolls, not an inflated PlatePass amount.

My E-ZPass is in my travel “go bag” now, and I’ll use it every time I travel down to Boston from here on.

There was a missed opportunity here to align the order number with the year of the fun fact.

Also: I ordered soft pretzel sticks with “spicy queso” and instead received tartar sauce.

I came downstairs this Sunday morning to find Oliver watching The Fog of War on his laptop.

“Screen time” means many things.

Oliver: I have to write a letter to Justin Trudeau to thank him. I have to send letters to the people I can’t interview.

Me: Who says you can’t interview the Prime Minister?

Every year, we forget that the Cardigan Farmers’ Market exists until almost the very last moment. Then, in September or October, we remember suddenly and dash east before it’s too late.

Today was the day for this year. We enjoyed grilled cheese sandwiches and salad, cappuccino and hot chocolate from Polehouse Café from a sunny picnic table in behind.

Next year perhaps we’ll get better at remembering earlier in the season.