Every morning, usually with reluctance, I begin the day with my wake up procedure. First, I wave around in the dark until I feel it, and slowly pull the dangling cord that raises my eyelids. Then I’ll pull up the lever that hoists my arm and rub my sleepy eye with my knuckle. After accepting ‘Yes, I really should get up!’, I’ll fire up the big engines and push the pedal to engage the muscle groups that sit me up onto the side of the bed.
Once there, I’ll give my head a little shake, in the same spirit as my dad slapping the side of the television to clear up the picture, I’m shaking out hydraulics and sensory systems to be sure they’re all fully functional. I’m jarring free any twisted connections or stressed wiring or tubes that may have been pinched or crimped as I slept.
After a short pre-flight checklist and I feel the motor has been adequately warmed up, I’ll go ahead and strap myself into the catbird seat, flip off the auto-pilot switch, slap the ‘Big Sigh’ button, and pull the lever down putting my vehicle into gear.
Art: Jeffrey Richter