They were having a three-nights-for-two special at the little coastal studio I found last year, so off I went. Even without the special, I can’t believe I can rent this place for less than the price of a Motel 6 room. And I’ve never known a Motel 6 room to have a private balcony, a fireplace with Prest-o-Log, a stained-glass window, a private garden, and complimentary coffee beans and mugs. Did I mention the peek-a-boo ocean view? And this year the room came equipped with two kites. (One of these days they’re going to figure out what a tiny treasure this place is and start charging more seriously & that’ll be the end of that.)<\/p>\n
Big flaw: not dog friendly. I was going to board the canine kids, but it got to bugging me that it would actually cost more for their accommodations than mine. Fortunately a neighbor couple stepped in to pup-sit.<\/p>\n
So a very nice time is being had by all. But this year a bag of coffee beans wasn’t the first surprise at the little studio.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
When I checked in at the rental agency, they beamingly told me that the old-fashioned housekeys are no more. They gave me a six-digit code and showed me a new system that involves hand presses on a screen followed by inputting that numeric code. It’s not using the hand for biometric ID (hey, maybe next year!). Just using touch to activate the key pad and to lock the door upon exit.<\/p>\n
So far so good, I guess. But then they chirped that when I check out I should first do the hand thing then input a special code that notifies the cleaning crew<\/i> that I’ve left for good.<\/p>\n
Wut?<\/p>\n
Apparently, this system communicates with the office every time I enter or exit the place. If they care to look, they know when I’m in the room and when I’m out. They know this data for every house they rent. What a bonanza for thieves! What a just-plain creepy idea.<\/p>\n
I never considered whether card keys like those used in hotels were recording every entry and exit. (Certainly the old metal keys used here previously had the great virtue of recording nothing.) Maybe you already know all about systems like this. Me? Country Mouse? Nope. <\/p>\n
Driving from the office I was trying to digest whether I liked anything about this system or not. I could see how management would, for sure. But I wondered if it works in a power outage, whether the codes ever get corrupted, and how easy it is to hack the data or just for somebody to access it the old-fashioned way in the office.<\/p>\n
Then I got here and did the little code dance. Nada. Did the code dance. Nata. Etc. Until the shiny little keypad finally went into some kind of panic mode, flashed alarmingly, and refused to take input from me. <\/p>\n
Oh yeah, now that’s<\/i> an improvement over old-fashioned housekeys, isn’t it? I called the office. They’d written my code down wrong.<\/p>\n
—–<\/p>\n
I’ve also been contemplating the ever-dubious nature of tsunami evacuation planning. <\/p>\n
Paranoid security freak that I am, I rent this place only because it’s on a hill. Not quite high enough on a hill to suit me, but it’s out of the distant tsunami zone and a run of just a few hundred yards to the safety zone for a Cascadia-generated tsunami. (Not that I quite trust that, either; but that’s another story.)<\/p>\n
The most direct route uphill is through a copse of woods, across a two-lane road, through another band of woods, then onto residential streets. About three blocks east as the crow flies.<\/p>\n
About nine<\/i> blocks on the evacuation maps. The maps direct people north three blocks to get to a street that crosses safely under the highway, then south three blocks after they get to the other side.<\/p>\n
I suppose they have to give people some<\/i> sort of directions other than, “Run like hell uphill and damn the blackberry brambles and the skunk cabbage!” I realize a lot of people aren’t physically able to navigate the blackberry brambles and the muck in which the skunk cabbage grows. But following those road-based directions could get you killed. First, because they’re so ludicrously long and convoluted (just what everyone needs; run six extra blocks to get to high ground while a tsunami is rushing in at the speed of a jetliner), Second, because they imply that you can go by car<\/i>. Instant gridlock. And that’s without roads buckled or disappeared under landslides.<\/p>\n
One of the big problems emergency managers have in this area is educating people that, in event of the Big One, you should not<\/i> hop in your car to escape a tsunami. Do people pay attention? Hahaha. A community has a tsunami drill or a false alert — and in 30 seconds flat the escape routes are parking lots.<\/p>\n
But seems to me that their own procedures encourage exactly that even as they wring their hands and bemoan all the dumbbutts who don’t listen to them.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
They were having a three-nights-for-two special at the little coastal studio I found last year, so off I went. Even without the special, I can’t believe I can rent this place for less than the price of a Motel 6 room. And I’ve never known a Motel 6 room to have a private balcony, a fireplace with Prest-o-Log, a stained-glass window, a private garden, and complimentary coffee beans and mugs. Did I mention the peek-a-boo ocean view? And this year the room came equipped with two kites. (One of these days they’re going to figure out what a tiny treasure<\/p>\n