The other day, the movie "High Fidelity" was on cable, and I watched
it again, for the first time since I saw it in a theater, maybe a year
ago.  I liked it then, and I like it now.  But it meant something
different to me now.  I don't exactly know how to explain it, but I
could see a bit of myself in the main character, the one played by
John Cusak.  Important things start to change in him when he starts
trying to <i>analyze</i> what's gone wrong in his relationships.

<p>
After the movie was over, it was kind of late.  I wasn't anywhere near
going to sleep, and I didn't really feel like hanging around in my
apartment reading or watching TV.  I wanted to think about the movie
some more, and I sometimes don't think well just sitting around in my
apartment.

<p>
So I got into my car and started to drive around.  I pretty much
immediately stopped thinking about the movie, and was just driving.  I
don't know if you've ever experienced this, but sometimes when you get
into a car, all conscious thought ceases, and you drive on instinct.
Sometimes I think I don't even consciously see the other cars and
things around me, I just respond instinctively to them.  When that
happens I feel more in control somehow, like by giving my body control
of the car, instead of my mind, I somehow am able to drive more
efficiently.  It's a little like a video game... sometimes when you
stop trying so hard, it gets easier.

<p>
I also tend to drive faster when I get like that.  Not really on
purpose, I just don't watch my speed.  It was around 10 or 11 at
night, and there really wasn't anyone else on the road anyhow.
Somehow I ended up on 101, heading back towards Camarillo.  There's a
really steep grade, that I usually have to go down fairly slowly,
since the people in front of me ride their brakes.  Why people who go
80 on the highway feel compelled to go 50 down a hill escapes me.  But
that's another story.  I was going much faster than usual, and that
combined with the steepness of the hill made me feel the change in
altitude, my ears popped like they do when a plane takes off, and I
had to swallow a lot to feel comfortable.  

<p>
It was around then that I sort of returned control of the car to my
conscious, intellectual thought.  Which is probably good, since
otherwise I would have just driven past Camarillo and had to turn
around and come back.

<p>
So I didn't end up thinking about the movie at all.  By the time I got
back the desire to do so had passed anyway.