— a semi-regular humor column by Maurice Austin —
When I first heard that a company named Zipline had aired a proposal to deliver medical supplies to San Juan County via Lummi Island, I wondered how a zipline could span such a stretch. Must take some creative engineering to stretch a steel cable that far, after all. Would it run from Lummi Point down to Sea Acres, or is there some sort of self-propelled zipline carrier that propels one from Lummi Point up to Mount Constitution, so that you don’t lose steam halfway up, slide back down towards the inevitable dip, finally settling there to have your derriere hanging over the channel, to be nipped at by passing sea lions and orca whales? Do they even make derriere plate armor that floats?
And just how well is San Juan County’s zipline tour(ist) industry doing, anyway, that they can propose such an expansion? I mean, I thought, sure they’re popular, don a hardhat and harness and click in and zip you go, woo hoo, but are they really raking in such bank that a braided stainless steel cable to Lummi Island is in the works? And what next—will I be able to slide right into the lounge at Bellingham International soon, or even the parking lot at Everett Field, strung up and shot tethered along a greased skyline?
Alas, things are not what they seem, or at least not what they’re named. Zipline International is not about to string wires between our fair isles, but rather has proposed a drone medicine delivery system that has been piloted in Rwanda, of all places. Perhaps since the regulations surrounding piloting anything drone-related over American soil remain prohibitively byzantine, or at least bothersome, if not outright banned. Still, the money and humanitarian concern flowing from Yang and Allen, and interest in similar projects from Gates, will likely heighten public awareness that such technology is poised to be a life-saving benefit to these our fair isles.
Indeed, perhaps one day, blood, insulin, medical marijuana, band-aids, pizza, six-packs of ice-cold motor oil, poop paper, tampons, bug spray, reading glasses, ink pen cartridges, light bulbs, guitar strings, socks, dried spices, batteries, dryer sheets, sticky notes, those little things you use to thread the needle on your sewing machine, micro SD cards, fishing tackle, rice, Tupperware, electronics cords, tacks, rubber bands, etc., might all be delivered expediently, within minutes, click a button and duck. No, really, duck!
Believe it or not, the Rwandan government jumped at the opportunity to pilot such a program, though whether that means American regulators will jump as high likely depends upon how much financial greasing their programs receive from political entities who are always hungry for campaign war chest bribes…er…contributions. Braided steel cable might be much, much easier to grease than the political machinery in this country, for better or worse, though those with trillions of tons of grease might beg to differ, not that they would beg, just a figure of speech, like Zipline being figurative of drones, or like the housing development near my childhood home being named Whispering Pines, after they’d cut every last tree off the hillside, none of which were pines, mostly just hemlock and alder and a few maples, Whispering Pines being figurative of what the residents can’t hear above the din of their lawn mowers, weed-whackers, leaf-blowers, shrub trimmers, and lawn edgers.
So Zipline isn’t really about ziplines, any more than Amazon.com has anything to do with the Amazon, and perhaps soon we’ll rename shuttle busses Helicopters, and subways Rocketships, why not? Be sure to sign up now for the Express Service Plan.
Still, I for one support ill-named Zipline International in their effort to deliver emergency medical supplies to needy residents in these-our-occasionally-otherwise-inaccessible-isles, though that might change if an errant payload of type O-negative smacks me in the face while I’m harnessed and helmeting up for a greased-line visit to Bellingham International….
Your (unmanned) aeronautical mileage may vary.
