Friday, January 11, 2013


It takes being disconnected to the Internet to get me to finally write a post. Go figure.

Yesterday evening—around 5:03 p.m. to be approximate—the Husband came into the bedroom where Molly T.K. Cat and I were taking a snooze. Well, Molly napped while I clicked the TV remote in search of a show that would invite sleep for a few minutes.  (Lack of sleep was finally making me feel yucky, for lack of ability to think of precise words.)

"The modem is dead," announced the Husband.

I was promptly alert and in a state of panic. How was I going to finish my last two assignments? How was I going to send them to the editor? How was I going to. . . you get the picture.

The Husband and I went instantly into troubleshooting mode. The husband went back to his computer to play a tetris game (which allows him to think he says), and I went searching for a phone book.

I called the computer shop where we bought the last modem. Unfortunately, the shop just closed. Bummer. When something as vital as a disconnection to the Internet happens, I realize again the downside of living in an out-of-the-way  small city. I was ready to drive anywhere to get a modem last night, so as not to waste a work day today. The next call was to a big electronic box store in a nearby bigger small city. While the sales clerk searched his computer database,  I handed the phone to the Husband and went searching for our Internet folder in the file cabinet.  The salesman told the Husband that there was one in at their store in three nearby, but further away, larger cities. Bummer.

I dialed the local computer shop again, handed the phone to the Husband, and pressed #1 for him to speak to an after-hours tech. The shop had a modem—Yay!—and we could go down and buy it before 7 p.m.—double Yay! And that, dear reader, is one of the virtues of living in an out-of-the-way small city.

The tech guy at the shop suggested we double-check that the DSL line was not down before we open the new modem package. Because if it was glitch in the DSL line, we could bring the modem back for a refund. Back at home, I dialed our Internet service provider (ISP), waded through the canned messages, and once I got a person on the phone, handed it to the Husband. While he spoke with the tech person, I went off to make dinner.

At 11 p.m. we finally started installing the modem. The Husband focused on setting it up and I stayed out of the way by writing this post. Everything was zinging along until the installation step with the ISP.  Around 12:30 a.m. The Husband called the tech number. He got stuck listening to a canned message about wires, didn't like that, and cut the connection. He re-dialed, got flustered listening to the same messages, cursed, and slammed the phone down. I re-dialed, went through the canned messages until I got a person on the line, and  handed the phone to the Husband. Step-by-step, the Husband and the tech went through the installation process. Voila, the Internet was working. At least, on the Husband's computer.

And, when I finally publish this post, then my computer shall be, too.

A Joyful 2013 to you, dear Readers!