On Love and Engines
Well, I got the RSX-S. Signed a bunch of papers, paid a bunch of money, and drove away. Pynk will be taking care of the old Elantra, which is very cool.
Tim and Anna -- thanks for coming down for the lunch. Tim, thanks for waiting an hour :) Anna, sorry you couldn't come chill with us later. Moog'n'Dawn, thanks for the lunch. It was very cool of everyone to come down to what was, effectively, my birthday lunch. May more birthdays be this cool.
I spent the rest of the day driving. What would you do?
The RSX-S is an absolutely amazing machine. Precise, ruthless, unforgiving, and, above all, incredibly rewarding when well-handled. I cannot stress enough my love for this machine. The experience is so precise, so utterly immersive, that words simply fail me.
The Porsche, and moreso the Mustang, both allowed some degree of relaxation; not so this beautiful machine. One must be always attentive, always awake, always on when driving. No slippage of concentration, nor of any of the limbs involved in controlling the melodic power plant is allowed. The driver must always be focused, dedicated to driving. These "always on" qualities are what I would like to cultivate in other facets of my life; hopefully, the experience of driving this machine every morning will help.
I will, however, happily admit to being mentally exhausted after the initial hour or so of driving. This, I hope, is the first of many stamina-building exercises geared towards increasing both mental and physical concentration and focus.
After quite a few miles, I found the clock had hit midnight, and decided to take the scenic route home. As I stopped at a stoplight, my brake-lights lit up the driver of the car behind me -- wastevens, in a burguandy Protege! I moved over a lane, allowed him to pass me, and pulled in behind him.
I then flashed my lights at him, hoping that he would look in his rear-view mirror and recognize me waving at him. I did, of course, completely fail to account for his night-blindness or my tinted, polarized windshield. Seeing no response, I proceeded to follow the poor guy over the course of approximately five miles. Near the end, as he pulled into his apartment complex, somewhat annoyed, he stopped at the leasing office. I pulled up alongside, and, well, felt like a bit of an idiot. We proceeded to play catch-up, and have a fairly normal conversation, given the circumstances :)
Hurray. I will leave you now with lyrics that have been bouncing around my head all day. I think I may even go listen to the associated song.
...Keep trying, again and again...
Will this power delude, or widen the madness that renders blind?
So the frontiers of our conceit,
then will become indistinct,
to vanish in thin air.
Boundaries are open
But don't believe it´s real
So does faith have roots in imagination?
Who is right in the grim and endless fight for revelation?
I cannot tell what´s right or wrong.
For we all dwell in imaginary borderland
Tim and Anna -- thanks for coming down for the lunch. Tim, thanks for waiting an hour :) Anna, sorry you couldn't come chill with us later. Moog'n'Dawn, thanks for the lunch. It was very cool of everyone to come down to what was, effectively, my birthday lunch. May more birthdays be this cool.
I spent the rest of the day driving. What would you do?
The RSX-S is an absolutely amazing machine. Precise, ruthless, unforgiving, and, above all, incredibly rewarding when well-handled. I cannot stress enough my love for this machine. The experience is so precise, so utterly immersive, that words simply fail me.
The Porsche, and moreso the Mustang, both allowed some degree of relaxation; not so this beautiful machine. One must be always attentive, always awake, always on when driving. No slippage of concentration, nor of any of the limbs involved in controlling the melodic power plant is allowed. The driver must always be focused, dedicated to driving. These "always on" qualities are what I would like to cultivate in other facets of my life; hopefully, the experience of driving this machine every morning will help.
I will, however, happily admit to being mentally exhausted after the initial hour or so of driving. This, I hope, is the first of many stamina-building exercises geared towards increasing both mental and physical concentration and focus.
After quite a few miles, I found the clock had hit midnight, and decided to take the scenic route home. As I stopped at a stoplight, my brake-lights lit up the driver of the car behind me -- wastevens, in a burguandy Protege! I moved over a lane, allowed him to pass me, and pulled in behind him.
I then flashed my lights at him, hoping that he would look in his rear-view mirror and recognize me waving at him. I did, of course, completely fail to account for his night-blindness or my tinted, polarized windshield. Seeing no response, I proceeded to follow the poor guy over the course of approximately five miles. Near the end, as he pulled into his apartment complex, somewhat annoyed, he stopped at the leasing office. I pulled up alongside, and, well, felt like a bit of an idiot. We proceeded to play catch-up, and have a fairly normal conversation, given the circumstances :)
Hurray. I will leave you now with lyrics that have been bouncing around my head all day. I think I may even go listen to the associated song.
...Keep trying, again and again...
Will this power delude, or widen the madness that renders blind?
So the frontiers of our conceit,
then will become indistinct,
to vanish in thin air.
Boundaries are open
But don't believe it´s real
So does faith have roots in imagination?
Who is right in the grim and endless fight for revelation?
I cannot tell what´s right or wrong.
For we all dwell in imaginary borderland