1. Logos. People use their cars to broadcast things that are important to them to the rest of the traveling public – their favorite sports team, the fact that they’re memorializing a lost loved one by plastering their birth and death dates on the back window, or their affiliation with PETA, the NRA, or their great love of some random geographic location. What I never really expected to see was someone driving past with a two foot tall Under Armor logo affixed to his back window. I’m sure they make some very nice clothing, but for some reason it feels pretty much like me having a giant Fruit of the Loom logo emblazoned across the back of my truck. No matter how comfy they might be, it’s a safe bet that almost no one on the planet actually cares about your choices in underwear… but maybe I could interest you in a nice Dale Earnhardt “3” with angel wings if you’re really looking to class up your ride a little.
2. Printing. It’s apparently the hardest function known to network engineering. I don’t generally like having hard copies floating around, but there are just some moments when you can’t avoid needed a paper copy. Sure, that’s mostly because we’re woefully behind the curve when it comes to adopting ultra-portable computers and tablet technology, but that’s a different rant for a different night. All I really need is a printer that works reliably on the three days a month when I actually do need a dead tree copy of something. I can manage to keep a 99.99% up time on my home network with a history degree and a reasonable dose of common sense, surely the cast of hundreds who theoretically have advanced training and education in networking can come up with a way to make the bloody printers work.
3. Darkness at dawn. I’m ready for the cool, crisp evenings, but I’m not in any way prepared for the 6AM darkness that comes along with the end of summer. Over the last week I’ve regretfully noted the darkness encroaching a little further into the morning routine. At the end of July, the sun sparkled on the dew covered grass long before 6AM. Here at the end of August, there’s barely enough light to make out cars and houses on the other side of the road. In another few weeks it’ll be pitch black for the entire morning routine. A few weeks after that, it’ll be dark for the evening routine too. Maybe there’s something poetic about 10 hours of work and commute bookended by pitch blackness, but I trade in prose, not poetry, so the long, dark nights can bugger off because I’m nowhere near ready for them yet.