Colin D., or Optimism
By Michael Swaine
A confirmed morning multitasker, I usually chomp the Cheerios along with a chapter or three in my latest book, said book wedged firmly in the nook between keyboard and monitor while Netscape's email module hangs hungrily from one of the Net's nether nipples, sucking sustenance from mama POP. The current nook book is Voltaire's Candide, or Optimism, a re-read of an old favorite. I had just cleaned bowl, cup, and glass, inserted bookmark, and sat at sated 'Scape to begin browsing downloaded email newsfeeds, when in walked old Colin D.
That's Colin D. Parenthesis, senior Internet analyst for The Pangloss Group, one of those Silicon Valley think tanks that bring in the big bucks by selling speculations to high-tech execs who scoff at newspaper horoscopes because any divination that doesn't cost a few thou per entrail can't be worth the tea leaves it's written on.
The D is for Dash, as in Dashiell Hammett, although it would be hard to find anyone less like the cynical master of the hard-boiled detective story than cheerful Colin D., the eternal optimist. He was wearing the charcoal suit today and looked like he belonged on top of a wedding cake.
"How goes it, Colin?" I greeted him.
"It's the best of all possible worlds," he answered as he always does, and pulled a lint brush out of his briefcase and ran it over the blue chair by the magazine rack.
I couldn't resist asking for his spin on the news, even though it always makes me dizzy.
"Don't you think the Java bubble is bursting, Colin?" I asked.
