Δαφνη Ευτυχια Αρθουρος

Driving home from rehearsal tonight (after various conversations and being shown a really spiffy stove and an iMac with a glorious monitor), feeling terribly tired, I passed a sign I've seen countless times before, giving the mileage to Baltimore and Philadelphia.

"One hundred twenty miles to Philadelphia," I mused, "That means if I didn't get off at my exit in Baltimore, I could be in Philly in two hours. Yeah, that could be cool."

Then a mile or two later, through my sleepy brain wandered the thought, "What the Hell would I do in Philadelphia at two o'clock in the morning?"

The obvious answer to that would be to drive all the way to Boston instead, which would get me there when things were open (though most of my friends would be just starting their workday and not have time to hang out, of course), but I've got stuff I need to do in Baltimore and DC over the next two days, and I was already too tired to consider driving any further than New York. Besides, the gas money is needed for other things. So I came home. And petted Perrine, who was glad to see me.

Driving home, I set the cruise control at 70 MPH and expected lots of people to pass me (which they did, when were other cars around at all). I mostly camped out in the right-middle lane, but at one point I'd moved to the left-middle lane because I had been creeping closer to the car in front of me and I decided it was just as easy to change lanes as to reset the cruise control. A short time later I saw in my rear-view mirror three cars abreast in the two middle lanes and the far left lane, and they all seemed to be travelling at nearly the same speed. Sure enough, before I'd passed the car to my right, the three were upon me and the one in my lane was tailgating. He drew to about a half-second following distance before finally changing lanes to go around me, and he decided to squeeze in between me and the car I was gradually passing, instead of passing me on the left or going all the way 'round on the right like one of the others in that bunch did.

They acted like they were in a huge hurry, and if it had been some more crowded time of day rather than only the five of us as far as the eye could see (at about ten minutes past midnight -- and yes, that's rather light for I-95 at that hour), I might have sped up to clear the car to my right and get out of the way (if the fellow behind me hadn't tailgated me). But these three hotshots danced and weaved and zoomed and acted impatient and got ahead of us the hard way instead of the easy way ...

And then proceeded to ever so gradually pull ahead of us, doing maybe as much as 73 MPH as a pack. For a 3 MPH delta I was tailgated and then cut in front of? A difference of one or two meters per second? (Though they had been going a little faster than that when they were behind me.)

I got the impression it was about maintaining their positions relative to one another, not how much of a hurry they were in to pass us. But that brings me no closer to understanding.

I've been wondering whether my car has a clutch. It's a four-speed automatic transmission (front-wheel drive, so I guess I should call it a transaxle?). Does every four-speed automatic have a clutch, or only some?

The first time I ever drove a four-speed automatic (as opposed to the three-speed automatics I grew up in) I found it quite disconcerting. Perhaps it would have bothered me less if it had been properly adjusted, but it shifted too often and too abruptly, and I was feeling seven distinct states -- six shifts -- when it was in "drive", and that seemed like too many. (Until then, the only cars I'd driven that had clutches also had manual transmissions.) Once it was repaired it was less disconcerting, but if I paid close attention I could still often tell when it switched from clutched to torque-converter. I did grow to apreciate the feeling (and fuel economy) of having the clutch engaged in fourth gear.

The transmission in the Honda is still new to me. So far I haven't caught a clutch engaging or disengaging, but that could be either because it's very smooth about it, or because it doesn't have one.

It also lags a couple of seconds after being shifted from "reverse" to "drive" or vice-versa, significantly longer than I'm used to. I wonder whether that's normal for this particular transmission (or transmission/engine combination), or signifies a problem I'll need to have taken care of before it gets worse.

Suddenly I am reminded of a story my father told me a few times, about a car he owned back when automatic transmissions were a really New And Fancy Thing. He gave a friend a ride, and the friend was amazed at how smooth the transmission was, because he could never feel it shift at all! This transmission must be one of the best, to shift so smoothly that he couldn't feel it! So my father decided not to tell him that it was actually a one-speed transmission. (Must have been one heck of a torque converter, I guess.)

Whoops, another "quick note" about a randomish observation has gotten away from me. A sure sign that I should've gone to bed instead of starting to type.

"This country's relationship with the Constitution is a little like partners dancing the Korobushka. Sometimes, you are holding onto each other, going the same way, sometimes you are whirling away from each other.

"But you need the partner to do the dance. And you always come back together."

        -- miklinar, replying to a previous QotD

Today was "I can't really afford this, but ..." day. I had to run up to the photo labs to pick up proofs and a contact sheet from a friend's late-2002 wedding because she's in town for another friend's wedding this weekend and I'll see her tomorrow. That's not the can't-afford part -- she sent me money to pay for developing. The Glenn-being-naughty part is that while I was up there I dropped off a couple of rolls of slide film from anniemal's 1939 box camera (one of the things stolen in November) that have been annoying me more every time I see them sitting there waiting to be developed. (One lab didn't have the contact print ready and asked me to come back in half an hour, which becomes a factor later in this paragraph.) And I went to Service Photo to buy film for the wedding this weekend ... the idea of attending a wedding without the right kinds of film just felt even more uncomfortable than the idea of spending money on film right now. Then I noticed my hands were shaking and realized I Neeed To Eat, so I found a place selling Pakistani food and bought some, instead of going home and eating groceries I already had. On the way back to the lab for the contact sheet, I passed a kitten on a leash -- a timid, black and white "cow pattern" kitten. Coming out of the lab, he was still there, so I spent time I should've been doing other things because I couldn't resist introducing myself to the cat and his owner. And that took longer than I thought it would, because it was this dog-person's first cat, and I wound up transferring some of my kitty-knowledge to him and taking a few photos. Then I came home. I'm trying to figure out what else on the "need to get done by this weekend" list I can actually get to. I'm tired and everything hurts today.

So some film and food I couldn't really afford, and a half-hour I couldn't really afford. But I made two new friends (one four-legged and one two-legged) and will be able to take pictures at the wedding this weekend (which I can't find my invitation to, so I need to find out exactly where it is). Sometimes I get so tired of resisting temptation. I just need to make sure I don't tip anything over into the catastrophe zone when I weaken. (I figure it's kind of like a diet -- if you don't forgive yourself the occasional violation, eventually you'll break the diet in a big way instead of a small one ... but the difference is that at my financial level, some of the constraints are hard limits, not just "oh this pushes back the goal a little" ones. So figuring out what really is a "small" naughtiness is the challenge.)

I should try to get out to the grocery store now that rush hour should be ending. I heard Giant had Prilosec on sale this week, and I just ran out.

The kitten is six months old and today was his first time outdoors. He was apropriately scared when a bus went past, but in the time I was there I watched him go from afraid of anybody walking past, to nervous as people approached but curious as soon as they were facing away from him. The owner said someone had told him he should try to socialize the kitten so he'd grow up to be friendly, or at least not completely afraid of people. From what I saw, this kitten is probably going to be fine in that regard -- perhaps not the most immediately friendly cat, but probably a pretty typical "keep away until I decide you're safe then say hello" type when he grows up.

I mentioned that indoor cats live longer. The fellow mentioned that he never planned to let the cat outdoors except on a leash. I told him about Perrine. And we even talked about poodles a little.

I need to do laundry, sort through the photos I picked up today, and pay bills.

When I came home there was a "sorry we missed you" sticker from UPS on the door. I wasn't expecting a package ...