Tuesday, September 06, 2005

Hazy Shade Of Winter

The foot traffic outside my office window dwindles to the infrequent passer-by. The occasional commotion of phone conversations, office visits, hallway whiteboard discussions, pre-meeting congregation and post-meeting chatter is reduced to the shrieking silence of the two 5400 RPM hard drives whizzing away in my laptop.

It's time to head home.

Suspend the work VM, "halt -p", wait for the SUSE shutdown sequence to complete until the num/cap/scroll-locks flash 3 times. And the distinct high- to low-pitched spin down of the hard drives. Slightly push the eject button on the Thinkpad docking station, wait for the harsh "pop" of the lock release and push once again forcefully to extricate the T42 from its bay. Pack up the leather bound notebook (suprisingly only my fourth in 9 years of work) and the Axim X50, sanity check the pant pockets "phone?" "keys?" "wallet?" -- God only knows the countless times that you were out halfway out the walking through your items in your head and missing that one thing.

Summer is definitely fading; the sun outside is lower than it used to be, and the office carries a darker demeanor than last week. Maybe things will change when the cubes right outside fill up with voices of new hires, eager to please and brimming with visions of "the next big invention".

Take a walk down the hall; wait a minute. I should use the bathroom. Back to the office, drop of the 10 pound laptop bag, hit the head. Don't forget to wash your hands! OK, back to the office, then out the door; nope...wrong door; you parked in the back parking lot today, remember? D'oh.

Swing open the left glass door -- I know, always enter/exit on the right -- but hey, there's no one here, besides, the door on the left is closer. And I've always loved how facilities never removed the (now faded) message of doom etched on the glass in formidable red paint: "Emergency Exit Only - Alarm Will Sound". Push the sliding steel door handle in, listen for the distinct "click" as the electronic safety engages the door closed.

It's definitely not summer anymore. Why didn't I notice this before? The air has taken on a crispness that harkens back to early October in the Blue Ridge Mountains, after a summer of sticky humid Georgia heat. It's unmistakable. I can feel the chill biting at my arms, the fresh cold air filling my lungs. The pungent smell of mating trees is long gone, and oddly, so is the piercing aroma of chlorinated fountain water. I'm really glad to be back in our Palo Alto campus where it all started for me three and a half years ago. The benches outside are empty, and so are the shaded dining areas on the deck. Step, step, step - saunter. Step, step step - saunter. I've walked this pathway down to the parking lot for countless times before; the hollow sound of my size 13 Nordstrom Rack specials thumping the wooden 4x4s echoes loudly on this cool September Tuesday. A tiny leaf slowly descends in front of me, landing softly on the rough concrete below. There goes another one. It sure is chilly; wish I brought a jacket.

You know, the G20 has some weird proportions from the 3/4 view. Like the wheelbase is a tad bit too long. Very Japanese-like, unlike the nifty wheels forward look of BMW's E46s. I still like the color; 10 years and still has some gloss. Too bad a couple of hundred thousand miles of use has evidenced itself in the myriad array of door dings from my fellow uncaring drivers. How hard is it to not hit the car next to you with your door?

Depress the faded round button on the left column of the transmitter, unlocking the driver door with a soft and tired "click". Once more for the other three. I'm surprised the chrome covering the door handles hasn't come off yet; whatever...I like the soft metal feel. Deposit the laptop bag in the back floor (leaving room on the passenger seat for...heck, why do I leave room there? hopes of picking up somebody? past lessons of having to relocate a crowded front seat in an effort to make room for the occassional passenger? I really should stop driving a four door.) The back door closes with a nice solid thunk, whereas the front door closes with a tinny bang. I really think there's no sound deadening in the front doors -- and the b-quiet brown bread is still sitting in the garage, waiting for over 2 years to get installed. Ah, procrastination & laziness.

Slide the key into the ignition, with the ridges making a quick vibration on the index finger as they tickly the pins into place. Depress the true-to-Nissan-form stiff clutch pedal, feel that graunchy tired old clutch cable. Fire that old yet legendary JGTC- and BTCC- winning motor up, and feel the rough vibration throughout the cabin as it holds the 1500 cold start idle. It definitely doesn't have the deep throaty exhaust note of the strung out 11:1 F20C motor, but this baby has taken me everywhere; and hell...the dime-a-dozen long block is something like what...$250 nowadays? I wonder how much longer she'll hold up. I just need her to last another year until I can afford a house and the prerequisite garage and the future race car. For now, I'll take care of that knocking sound (bad axles) and increasingly loud throwout bearing tomorrow morning. She'll be as good as new.

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1 Comments:

At 9/07/2005 9:37 PM, Blogger laragitara said...

why virtual ern... you're a poet!!
that was a good read...
thanks!

 

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