On Friday, a friend and I drove to Napa for an exhilarating 55-kilometer bike ride through the beautiful hills and vineyards of northern California. Up Dry Creek Road, over the Oakville Grade, a northerly loop across the Napa Valley, and back along the Silverado Trail. It made us grateful to be alive on this planet, at this time.
We rode almost as far north as St Helena, where George Bush, famous mountain biker, was scheduled to arrive for a brief spa stay that night before proceeding with his campaign to destroy the planet.
Back in Berkeley that evening, about 7:45, I was sitting at home reading when I heard the helicopters approach from the south. They were much noisier than the usual Alameda County Sheriff's machines, so I strolled out to the front yard to see what was happening. At 800 feet altitude, three helicopters roared northward, one fat Marine troop carrier flanked by two attack choppers. I waved cheerily with both hands, displaying the appropriate digits. Bush, I thought, should have known better than to fly over the People's Republic of Berkeley (Bush support: 1.3 percent) on his way from the Hoover Institution to his wine-country spa, but clearly he wasn't worried. So far, his armor to deflect verbal missiles has been reasonably effective, and words are all we have to fire.
When Bush flew over, I had been reading some strong words on global warming by David Remnick, editor of the New Yorker. In the course of describing An Inconvenient Truth ("brilliantly lucid,… important"), a new documentary film about that prescient environmentalist Al Gore, Remnick mentions Bush:
[T]he audience-of-one that most urgently needs to see the film and take
it to heart—namely, the man who beat Gore in the courts six years
ago—does not much believe in science or, for that matter, in any
information that disturbs his prejudices, his fantasies, or his sleep.
Inconvenient truths are precisely what this White House is structured
to avoid and deny.…
As President, Bush has made fantasy a guide to policy. He has scorned
the Kyoto agreement on global warming (a pact that Gore helped broker
as Vice-President); he has neutered the Environmental Protection
Agency; he has failed to act decisively on America’s fuel-efficiency
standards even as the European Union, Japan, and China have tightened
theirs. He has filled his Administration with people like Philip A.
Cooney, who, in 2001, left the American Petroleum Institute, the
umbrella lobby for the oil industry, to become chief of staff for the
White House Council on Environmental Quality, where he repeatedly
edited government documents so as to question the link between fuel
emissions and climate change.
On Saturday, after a muddy spin on his mountain bike, Bush helicoptered on to West Sacramento to repeat the lie that everything will be okay in 30 years,
due to the development of hydrogen fuel cells. This is one of his standard misdirections, which he repeated on Earth Day to deflect attention from his lack of interest in conservation or renewable energy. (Hydrogen can store and release clean energy, but it cannot replace oil as a source of energy.)
During the morning bike ride, Bush unburdened himself to AP writer Scott Lindlaw, telling him how stressful his job is, and how cycling helps him remain calm in his bubble. On rides like these, Bush revels in his alpha-male role, insisting that he stay in the lead—some months ago, he told Lance Armstrong to stay behind him—and on this circuitous route over unmarked trails, he brusquely ordered the only agent who knew the route to "Drop back," gesturing "with a thumb over his shoulder." A take-charge kind of guy, even without the requisite information. Bush told Lindlaw:
I still ride the mountain bike primarily to help settle the soul and to burn off the excess energy one gets when you're living life to its fullest.
We're able to enjoy the beauty without really
disrupting the pristine nature of the place. It's a classic way for
mankind to enjoy God's gift. Plus, we get some exercise.…
I don't spend a lot of time chitchatting. But I get great pleasure in riding with a group
of people, and afterward we shoot the breeze and have fun and laugh and
go about our way.…
People learn to adjust and relax all different kinds of ways. For me, intense exercise, particularly on a mountain bike in a beautiful place, is a great way to keep perspective.
Bubble Boy's perspective on "the pristine nature of the place" was not disturbed by the fact that the muddy trail behind his bike was being torn to shreds, primed for later erosion. As Lindlaw reports, "A long convoy of SUVs and off-road vehicles rumbled behind the group, carrying medics and security agents with machine guns."
It's frat-boy weekend, all the time. Bush refrains from "chitchatting" with his entourage about anything of significance. He prefers to "shoot the breeze and have fun and laugh and
go about our way." After all, he's "living life to its fullest," untroubled, as Remnick says, by "any
information that disturbs his prejudices, his fantasies, or his sleep"—information, for example, that might link his actions to the callous destruction of the earth's biosphere. A few hot years from now, those beautiful bike rides around the Napa Valley may not be nearly so beautiful.
Update, 4/24: It seems that Bush never made it to the Hoover Institution on Friday. His meeting with Stanford panjandrums had to be moved elsewhere (to George Schultz's house), thanks to more than 1,000 protestors, as Amit Arora reports for the Stanford Daily (hat tip to Dan Froomkin). And today there were 250 protestors outside his hotel in Orange County. If a Republican president isn't welcome on the Farm or in Orange County, the times, I would say, are a-changin'. Well, as Bush concedes, "People learn to adjust."