Well, I had a good run. Ten years with my beautiful Acura Integra; ten years since my last car was stolen. In the aftermath of the theft and hurried purchase of my Integra, I got what the dealer said was the best anti-theft device on the market (at that time) – an electronic ignition kill switch that was self-arming, idiot proof and extremely effective. No one except specially trained CIA operatives could start my car without the exact ROM-plug-dongle-thingy. The car would just refuse to start for everyone except me. Plug the thing in, and the circuit would allow the car to be started for the next 30 seconds. After I turned off the ignition, it would wait 30 seconds and re-arm itself. Simplicity and ease, and it truly worked. That car is sitting safely in front of my apartment. And tonight, I feel especially secure in the knowledge that no one is going to steal it.
Over the last ten years, I guess I’ve inserted and removed the plug thing thousands of times, and the contacts have started wearing out. Just last night I got the first hint that something was amiss: the light wouldn’t stop flashing after I inserted the plug thingy. So I tried again and again, and then some more times, and finally it stopped flashing. Close call. Several adventures later … my car is in front of my apartment. The light is flashing. I see my shrink on Saturday mornings, so I think I’ll go down 20 minutes earlier than usual just to give myself some margin. I’ll have to pack a backpack, just in case I get stranded somewhere (or arrive 20 minutes early).
Once it’s running, it’s running. Once it stops, well, do you feel lucky, punk? Do you? Everything will be okay if I can just get it into “valet mode,” wherein the light is on steadily, providing no protection whatsoever (other than whatever incidental retinal damage a red LED might give a car thief). But getting it into valet mode means I have to insert and remove the plug thingy successfully four times, each time being no later than 30 seconds after the last one.
Do you know how my life has degenerated? I’m desperately inserting and removing the plug thingy, wearing out the contacts more and more, courting an aneurisym and I still don’t know what to call the plug thingy! So, I pit thee, plug thingy! I will know your name before I am done; this I vow.
So, naturalamente, my plan will be to make a bee-line from my shrink’s office to the nearest auto alarm installer (I have a list of them, ordered in increasing distance from his office), and I will have the damn thing replaced with some other security device which I’m sure I will be assured is the latest thing, providing ultimate protection against people trying to start my car.
Maybe the love died slowly, but I was blind to it until it was too far gone. My security device has placed me with the rest of the population; I am deemed unworthy of starting my car. Will my next security device last as long? Will it frustrate me so, especially near the end? I don’t know. But these are the chances we take when we try for such exclusive relationships. Tomorrow is another day, and I’ll just have to see how this story plays out.
In case this pitting is too mild, I’m adding a bonus pitting: My remote control is too symmetric. Exactly half the time I pick it up, it’s pointed the wrong way, and the keys on the bottom feel like the keys on the top, and the keys in the middle are all symmetrical, and the whole thing is designed to make me accidentally change the channel when all I wanted to do was change the volume. This can’t be a coincidence. There are people whose job it is to make sure that people can pick up the damn remote and know where the buttons are and be able to use it without even looking. What is this? A throwback to the 20th century? I pay my taxes, and I don’t break too many laws, and all I want to do is be able to change the volume without changing the channel. And it’s a Tivo, so when I change the channel, I lose my 30 minute buffer, and that’s just cruel. So, watch out, Tivo, you’re on my list.