Blog

Short blog posts, journal entries, and random thoughts. Topics include a mix of personal and the world at large.

Half over

Good news or bad news, 2020 is half over. The calendar has turned the page to July, and by god we’ve made it to the center marker of this crazy and wild year. Good news of course is that we made it this far, and should count ourselves lucky if we still have employment and free of the coronavirus. Bad news of course is that COVID-19 is still very much with us, and with the recent case spikes in America, I don’t suppose there an end in sight yet to the 2020 madness.

I wouldn’t say this new reality of ours since early March have sort of become normal; all it takes is a slight shift in perspective to realize the current situation is absolutely the opposite of what it is suppose to be. Breaking bread at a restaurant with friends remains an impossibility, and I’ve nearly forgotten what it’s like to watch a movie at a theatre. I guess it’s not something that enters the mind when the combination of lockdown and racial protests are happening at the same time these past few weeks. You simply do the best you can to go about your day as peaceful as possible.

At the same time, you try not to think about what you were doing during this exact time the previous year, because it can get sad rather quickly. Last July I had the trip of a lifetime to Japan: for two weeks it was the best travel experience out of the many I’ve had in the past five years (not so humble brag). I was so inspired by the trip that I wrote a five-part photo story, and also got super depressed in returning to my normal life after being in a country that fits my personality so damn well.

Obviously, it’s best not to think about it too much during this time, and instead concentrate on making lemonade out of the crappy batch of lemons we’ve been given this year. The goal is come out of this mess a better and improved person, especially for those of us in a fortunate enough position to not have to worry about job security or the harmful effects of the coronavirus. We’ve stewed indoors for more than four months now, and it seems there will be many more months to go; the work continues.

Money back

So my auto insurance came up for renewal recently, and I received a nice chunk of money back for the previous six-month period. Due to the coronavirus situation and how almost everyone is driving far less miles than before, insurance companies have saw fit to refund 15% of our premiums. While I’ll never complain about getting money returned to me, a measly 15% does seem bit small given that I’ve only driven a quarter of the miles I’d usually put on the car compared to last year. I feel like we deserve more than 15%, especially when these days, my 911 sits parked for 28 days out of a month.

Granted, because it is a 911, the amount of premiums I got in return is actually quite substantial - some two hundred dollars. It’s a testament to just how enormously expensive it is to insure a six-figure sports car in San Francisco, a city that’s notorious for car break-ins. That is indeed paying to play, as the saying goes; I would be a far richer person if I didn’t like cars and otherwise fully okay with driving around in a plain Japanese sedan. Alas it is destiny that I would be spending a significant chunk of disposable income to keep an expensive German sports car around.

One that’s barely done 500 miles since the COVID-19 lockdowns began in March.

I have thought about cancelling insurance on the 911 for the duration of the shelter-in-place, though on second thought that would not be wise because the car is not parked safely in a garage, so if someone were to tamper with it, last thing I want is to not have coverage. Things can get pricey very quickly: the front bumper alone - just the skin - is $6,000 dollars for a genuine replacement piece. That’s definitely not something I’d want to or can pay out of pocket for, should it get bashed in by another car while the 911 is stationary.

Besides, it’s rather therapeutic to take the car out on periodic drives; anything to escape being stuck to our homes. I’ll happily continue to pay the exorbitant insurance premiums.

Pops crackles and bangs

Readers of this blog will know that these days I’m driving around in my brother’s car when I need to physically go into work. He’s still in the phase of car enthusiasm where he likes to pour money into modifications and making the vehicle his very own. As someone who drives the car rather infrequently, it’s always a treat and surprise to find out what exactly has he done to the car each time around. It definitely reminds me of the days when I too put most of my discretionary income into modifying my Toyota Corolla.

The latest mod my brother did to his Audi A3 is an exhaust and a retune. While most people tend to purchase an aftermarket exhaust for more flow and sound, he simply got the muffler chopped off. Much like a Fiat 500 Abarth that comes from the factory with no muffler, my brother’s Audi A3 now barks loudly at any RPM. For someone of my age where I prefer to slip out of buildings unnoticed (don’t mind the GT3, please), the newfound loudness of the A3 is a bit bothersome. I can see why switchable exhausts with both a silent and loud mode is so en vogue in sports car these days.

My own 911 is rather noisy at any engine RPM, so it’s not really something to complain about in my brother’s car. What is worthy of complaint is the tune he’s put on the Audi: the notorious “burble tune”. This refers to the pops and bangs that happens when the throttle snaps shut as one lets off the gas pedal, something manufacturers have programmed into cars these days because for whatever reason, people seem to like the fake crackles and reverberations. Never mind the fact that it’s effectively gasoline being burned off in the exhaust track: an utter waste of gas for some noise.

You’d expect pops on the overrun from dedicated sports cars such as a Jaguar F-Type; on a plain Audi A3 four-door it’s downright silly. Worse, my brother have put a tune where the burbles happen even when I let off the gas at low RPMS, which is just about as fake and contrived as it gets. Honestly I it’s slightly embarrassing driving his car around, all the while wishing for a quiet cruising mode to toggle to.

Trying to turn a commuter sedan into a sports car have drained many a wallets from enthusiasts. Take it from me, someone who has done exactly that: save the money, buy the sports car. It doesn’t even have to be a 911, though it should be.

A hard day's work

The best days are when you’ve put in hard hours at work, that by the end of the night, you are so tired that soon as your head hits the pillow, you go right to sleep for eight plus hours with zero interruption. Yesterday was such a day for me, and sure enough I slept like a hibernating animal until I was once again unceremoniously interrupted by my morning alarm. Because no matter how awesome of a day you’ve just had, the cycle of life means you get to do it over again the next day.

It sure beats the alternative!

There’s this perception that those of us lucky enough to be able to work from home, the workload must be far lower than what it would have been during normal times. The mere fact that we are away from the workplace means there’s some tasks you simply cannot do. This is especially true in my field of tech support; there’s nothing we can do remotely if a user’s laptop mechanically fail. Zoom is awesome technology, but even it can’t replicate actually getting hands on a machine for troubleshooting. The scope of things to do may indeed have decreased, but quite honestly I’ve been as busy as ever these past few months of lockdown.

It’s all about making the most out of a situation, and for me, my goal was to learn as much as possible. I’m relatively new to my current team, and this year was suppose to be a period of transition and slowly learning the techniques and nuances. COVID-19 threw a wrench into that, and I was pretty much forced to grab everything on the fly. Google truly is my best friend, and so are colleagues who are super generous with their time in answering my surely inane to them questions. I have to say I've not had such a period of massive learning at work since I first started over a decade ago, and it’s always good to pickup new knowledge.

On the flip side, I could’ve easily used my newness to the team as an excuse to lay back and not do much of anything. It probably would’ve been okay, given the extraordinary situation, but that’s not how I wish to do things. One thing I always strive for and take pride in is being highly productive at work; it isn’t about making myself look great amongst colleagues or chasing promotions or whatnot, but rather it’s about feeling good about the work I’ve put in at the end of a workday, so I can return home and sleep soundly. That’s really as much as I would ever need.

No rest for everybody

I would like to know whose idea or agreement was it that said we are going to have nightly rounds of illegal fireworks for the entire month of June, presumably leading up to the Fourth of July. It used to be that only on the day of Independence Day would we had to deal with the loud bangs and pops of fireworks emanating around the neighborhood, but for some reason somebody decided this year that we are going to have it every evening for a whole month. According to what I can gleam from twitter, this is a phenomenon all throughout the country. New Yorkers are so fed up with the disruption that they’ve gone to the mayor’s house to protest - with loud honking.

It makes sense: if I can’t get proper sleep, why should the person who runs the city?

Normally I am not against illegal fireworks on the Fourth of July; it’s for the kids, and just one night out of the whole year having to endure thunderous sounds while trying to fall asleep is a worthy tradeoff. Thirty straight days, however? That’s got to be a no from me, man. Since the month of June began I’ve been wearing ear-plugs to sleep, something I usually don’t do unless I’m traveling. While I can indeed sleep through earthquakes, paradoxically I need absolute silence in order to fall into slumber. These nightly fireworks have not been conducive to say the least, and honestly I’m starting to get rather annoyed.

I have no doubts the coronavirus situation plays a huge factor in the endless melee of loud bangs every night. There’s got to be a surplus of fireworks that were made available to purchase online very cheaply; thus armed with an arsenal that couldn’t be depleted in one single night, one person decided to start lighting them up way ahead of the Independence holiday. Monkey see, monkey do, and everybody who’s got illegal fireworks began to shoot them on a nightly basis. Admittedly it was amusing at first, but after over twenty consecutive days of it, it’s really not fun anymore. Worse, there’s still almost two weeks before the actual Fourth of July; god forbid it continues on after that.

Not here to spoil anyone’s party, but the daily rounds of fireworks is a prime example of too much of a good thing. I hope this super quirky 2020 is but an aberration, and starting next year we go back to putting up fireworks on the day of only.

How would you like your adapter to be adapted?

Watchmen allegory

When weekends roll around during this time of coronavirus, options for leisure are rather limited. The typical social venue still haven’t yet open - as well they shouldn’t be - so just about the only choice that involves going outside is to the mountains and trails. Unfortunately, the same laws of physics apply to everyone, so hiking locations are absolutely packed with people. A few weeks back, while driving on the San Mateo mountains in the Woodside area, I passed by many full parking lots, with cars having to park alongside the road. I get it: people are craving activity, and if a majority of activities are still limited, the demand for what remains is going to increase.

The COVID-19 situation is still too delicate for my liking to be heading out on Saturdays and Sundays. I’m still in the mode of unless I absolutely need to - work, for example - I shall remain indoors at home as much as possible. So that means I have to find ways to entertain myself, and usually that involves the many automotive-related channels I subscribe to on Youtube. This past weekend, however, HBO made the Watchmen series available for free to watch on its website and stream platforms. All I’ve ever heard about Watchmen is how spectacular it is, so it was the perfect opportunity to finally watch the show. Eight hours of my Sunday, sorted.

Verdict: Watchmen the series is profound in so many ways.

The particular story arc I most enjoyed was that of Adrian Veidt’s marooning on Europa. Here he was living in actual heaven as envisioned and created by Dr. Manhattan, with everything he could ever possibly want taken care of. Yet he still sought a way to escape that paradise, to come back to this flawed Earth of ours. Veidt’s story allegorizes a lesson that resonates greatly with me: the grass is definitely not greener on the other side, even if that other side is quite literally heaven. Be satisfied with what you have right now, because what you are pining for instead may not be what you want, and it certainly won’t make you any happier.

Adrian Veidt wanted utopia, but when he got it, he sought to leave it instead. That’s an important and powerful lesson there.

An example of a packed parking lot in the mountains.

For the kitten

I get it now.

The enduring and unconditional love that people have for their pets is something I’ve finally come to experience for myself. Readers of this blog may know that our family adopted a two-year old kitten a few months back, and he’s simply been a tiny bundle of joy ever since. No matter how much of a bad day I’ve had, it instantly melts away as soon as I see our cat, him meowing back in greeting. How can I possibly stay in a bad mood when all he ever wants to do is lie on his back, begging me to scratch his tummy.

I totally get it now, why people get pets. I use to think I wouldn’t be a pet owner: why spend that money and time on raising an animal when raising an actual human baby (of my own, obviously) seems far more useful and rewarding. Your child would and should outlast you; meanwhile, a cat has an average of 15 years to live. I didn’t want to go through that anguish of falling in love with a being, only to lose him in such a relatively short amount of time.

As life would have it, I didn’t have to make the choice: it was my brother who adopted our kitten, and I’ve been thrust into the life of a pet owner through circumstances. After only two months, I’m really glad it happened that way. I deeply adore and love our little cat; some of the best times during this COVID-19 lockdown is feeding him and playing with him on the carpet. I’ve found that I don’t think or worry about the cat’s short lifespan at all; it’s so easy to stay in the moment when interactions are so pure and simple. It’s as if the anxiety burden of being human gets momentarily erased when I am playing with our cat.

A joy of the most natural kind.