Microserfs

"Anyway, I never talk about myself, and you guys never ask, and I've always respected that. But there comes a time when you either speak or forfeit what comes next."

He got up. "I'm driving back up the Peninsula. Home. I just wanted to

talk to somebody."

I said, "Good luck, Bug," and he winked at me.

Sassy!

TUESDAY

Day of coding. It felt really Microsofty for some reason.

Midday, Karla went walking with Mom and Misty, and the two of them returned absolutely comatose with boredom. I have never seen two people with less chemistry. I just don't understand how I can love two people so much, yet have them be so indifferent to each other.

Oh, and Misty’s getting really F-A-T, even though Mom has her on a "slimming diet." The neighbors are feeding her scraps because she's irresistible. So Mom had to have a dog tag made up that says, "PLEASE DON'T FEED ME, I'M ON A DIET." Karla said Mom should have millions of the things engraved and she could make a fortune selling them all over America, to people.

But, oh, does Misty waddle now!

* * *

Smoggy day down in the Valley. Rusty orange. Depressing. Like the 1970s.

* * *

Susan told us about her first date with Emmett last night, at a Toys-R-Us superstore in San Francisco. Emmett bought himself a Star Trek Romulan Warbird. Susan bought some infamous "softer, less crumbly Play-Doh" as well as an obligatory Fun Factory, a Bug Dozer as well as a container of "Gak" - a water-based elastic goo-type play object endorsed by Nickelodeon and called by all of us, "the fourth state of matter."

Afterward they parked on the Page Mill Road and monitored cellular phone calls.

* * *

Susan’s still obsessing that Fry's doesn't sell tampons. I think Fry's had better look out.

* * *

Todd's given up on trying to be political because Dusty no longer cares about the subject and, it would appear, nor does anybody at the office. It was a fun ride while it lasted. He talks to his parents up in Port Angeles more now, too. You can imagine how his religious parents wigged out when he told them he was a Communist. They still believe in Communists.

* * *

Ethan and I went out for drinks to the BBC bar in Menlo Park after a "Trip to Europe" (ten hours of coding; so much for yesterday's leisure dictum). We both commented on a sense of unrest in the Valley. The glacial pace of the Superhighway's development is absolutely maddening to the Valley's citizens, their mouths fixed in expressions of relaxed pique amid the LensCrafters franchises, the garages, the S&L buildings, and the science parks. Nonetheless, Broderbund, Electronic Arts, and everybody else here grows and grows, so it's all still happening. Just more slowly than we'd expected.

I said, "Remember, Ethan, these are geeky, on-demand type people who suddenly have to spend their lives as if they're waiting for an Aeroflot flight out of Vladivostok - a flight that may or may never take off." Then I remembered that we're all "Russia'd out" after the political turmoil of the past few weeks and wish I'd not said that.

Ethan was glum: "CD ROM design is beginning to feel like aloe product sales chains and pyramid schemes."

"Ethan - you're our money guy. Don't talk like that!"

"No one wants to pay for the highway's infrastructure - it's too expensive. In the old days, the government simply would have footed the bill, but they don't do much pure research any more. Unless there's a war, but then it's hard to see how Bullwinkle and Rocky interactive CD products will help us crash an enemy. Fuck. We don't even have enemies anymore."

The music was playing a comforting old Ramones song, "I Wanna Be Sedated," and we were feeling maudlin.

"Companies want to be signposts, toll booths, rest stops - anything except actual asphalt. Everyone's afraid of spending heaps of money and becoming the Betamax version of the I-way. And I don't think a war is something that would speed up development. I don't think it's that kind of technology. This thing won't be real until every house in the world has had a little ditch dug up in its front lawn, and an optical fiber installed. Until then, it's all Fantasy Island."

I guess he was remembering how long it took for him to build his own Lego freeway in the office's Lego garden.

We reordered Harvey Wallbangers (1970s night).

"It's just so strange to see this sense . . . of stalematedness," Ethan continued, remembering the Atari boom era. "This was the land where all you ever asked for was all you were ever going to get - so everyone asked Big." He was getting philosophical. "This is the land where architecture becomes irrelevant even before the foundations are poured - a land of sustainable dreams that pose as unsustainable; frighteningly intelligent/depressingly rich." He twisted a cocktail napkin into a rope. "Well," he said, "the magic comes and goes." He chugged a Wallbanger. "But in the end it always returns."

* * *