The Aerie
So I've got my micromini laptop with me, and it seems to work for blogging on the bus. The hard part so far is the bounciness. I end up hitting keys multiple times as the bus goes over bumps.
I'm riding the 24 lately, the thrill of riding the light rail having worn off when my car was booted a couple weeks ago for parking one space outside the area reserved for light rail park and ride passengers. I'm not complaining, I did the crime and I paid the fine. But I will point out that the majority of that mixed-use parking lot sits idle. And, okay, do they have to stick the bright orange boot notice onto your window with the same adhesive used to hold the insulating tiles on the space shuttle? It's been two weeks and I still have a stripe of paper across my driver's window.
The bus came up to the intersection of 25th St. and 26th Ave, one block north of where a red-light runner totaled our minivan. The light was turning yellow, so the bus driver slowed to stop. From behind our bus, a sedan pulled into the oncoming lane and accelerated madly. The light turned red so long before he reached the intersection that the crossing vehicles (including the one on the right which was blocked from his vision by the bus) had to lurch to a halt as he roared through. I was astonished. The light changed, and the bus began to pull into the intersection... and had to lurch to a halt as ANOTHER car ran the red light, across our path. Two cars running the red light at one intersection in one light cycle. Insane.
The Madness of My Life continues, as we attempt to add a bathroom to our home while simultaneously replacing our family car. One night we go look at bathtubs, the next night we go look at Fords, the next night we go look at flooring. Or at least, my spouse looks at floors. I have managed to convince her that I have no opinion on the shades and colors we use to decorate our new rooms, because it's true. I can think of few endeavors more frustrating and pointless than trying to choose between different shades of gray tile. It reminds me of Democratic primary voting.
Last night we were supposed to go look at the Toyota Highlander Hybrid, but I was just too exhausted. A friend had given my spouse the contact information for a car dealer that she knew, so I didn't mind putting off our freelance exploration of the Toyota. I can use the as-yet-unseen Toyota as an excuse to be noncomittal when the dealer tries to get me to decide on another regular-engine Grand Caravan. I wish the car had not been totaled until NEXT year, when the hybrid minivans are due to come out. So far the Toyota Highlander is the only seven-passenger hybrid vehicle I could find!
On top of all this, I'm also shopping for a new cell phone, my Treo 600 having apparently given up the ghost. There
is a bewildering array of choices, none of them that use the PalmOS that I've become accustomed to. I don't really mind moving onto Windows CE, or something, but cell phone technology is yet another place where even my vast experience and expertise only serve to confuse rather than enlighten. It might be easier to buy a cell phone because it's quad-band GSM with an MP3 player and camera - instead I'm exploring the OS, the processor, the operating system, the memory, etc., etc. It's like trying to find a girlfriend based on her personality and beliefs rather than her looks. As if!
And of course, the [obscenity-deleted] phone company makes you wait 11 months between phone changes, so whatever I pick I'm stuck with for a while. I took a look at the latest Razr phone, but honestly the keypad seemed to be made of tinfoil and I doubted its durability. And without PalmOS, I have to figure out how I'm going to do scheduling all over again.
Not that I ever really got it figured out under Palm: I could never get the sync process to work the same way twice, and rectifying my home/personal schedule with the inevitable corporate Exchange server schedule was a torture, especially if I didn't have administrator rights on my corporate client desktop system.
While I didn't go look at any cars last night, I did help build one. About 1:30 a.m. my wife and I were awakened by a weird sound... "Brrrr... brrrr... brrrr...." coming from downstairs. Investigating, I discovered my eldest son, sawing a thin,stiff piece of wood with a keyhole saw. At 1:30 a.m. What I learned was that he was supposed to have completed a mousetrap-powered model car by the next morning, the last day of the quarter. He didn't look petulant, he didn't complain, and it was clear that he was prepared to work on it alone all night if necessary.
So of course I pitched in to help. We put the car together in fairly short order, about an hour. It helped that we have built one of these before. What an opportunity to spend some time with a fine young man.