The Oct 06 Essays: IX - At times it just makes sense...

At times it just makes sense... is about well, driving. the title is taken from a charles bukowski collection titled "you get so alone at times that it just makes sense". It's a book of poems i bought from tower books when it was still around.

Written at a time when I was driving in my parent's pickup. I'll talk about it in the essay below.

The phrase "rusty-more-rain-harbouring-sky"... has a background. I wrote many years ago, looking out of my hostel window, with reference to the night sky that's about to rain. Back then the phrase was "Like a fist clenched in restraint, like the rusty sky harbouring rain". something like that. Been wanting to use that phrase for a long time. Still want to use that phrase properly... I have pictures.

The rusty sky looks like this.
Loved the view, the houses always look like they're from a xmas card. This is when the lightning flashed across the sky...

Wonder who's living in the room now... It's been so long ago.

How Xiaobai got its name

Xiaobai means “little white” and is my parents’ white pick-up truck that I drove around especially when I worked for my parents’ company.

It is a pretty old truck, it has been around for about fifteen years, but it does not look so old. It is from Nissan. My brother used to drive it to school when he was 18, but after a while he is driving another car now. So, the pickup is generally at still my disposal, and I like it very much. There is something about Xiaobai that makes me feel that it is heartbroken, but since it doesn’t say much, I won’t probe. Maybe it is about my brother, but I feel that I shouldn’t interfere.

Xiaobai has analog car locks, such that everyone except the driver should lock the door before slamming it close; the driver’s door will have to be locked with the key. This is so that we will not lock the door with the keys inside. Also Xiaobai has analog window winders, and a squeaky accelerator pedal.

There was this one time I fetched my mother with Xiaobai, to Cycle and Carriage, where they fix Mercedes cars. My mother made me go inside with her, and I parked Xiaobai next to the Mercedeses, and it was drizzling lightly.

At the end of the ordeal, my mother was fussing over me and an umbrella, and I said without thinking,

“No time for that, I have to rescue Xiaobai.”
“Who is Xiaobai?” she asked me back curiously.
“The pick-up.” I said, surprised at myself that I called it Xiaobai.
“Rescue from what?” she asked me again curiously.

I shared this feeling with Xiaobai that inherently, we feel nothing wrong with ourselves and we are proud of who or what we are. When juxtaposed with people or cars that look glamorous and dress nicely and feel expensive, they sometimes make us doubt ourselves. Sometimes, when we compare with a lot of them, we feel inferior and out of place. Just as if we place a pretty looking car in the middle of Xiaobais’ alikes, it will too feel out of place and perhaps a little useless because pick-ups are hardy and can do many things pretty cars cannot.

It does not matter if the rest of the cars at Cycle and Carriage were snooty or were bullies, but Xiaobai will sure feel uncomfortable when all of them were of the same kind.

There are some people who think it cool and bohemian. There are some people who really think that driving a pick-up around is quite cheapskate. But driving a pick-up around is actually neither cool nor cheapskate, or both cool and cheapskate.

That’s one thing I miss most about my previous job, driving Xiaobai around.