I never knew how totally
connected I was, and how dependent on said connection, until yesterday when I
awoke to discover I wasn’t connected at all.
To the Internet, that
is.
At first, I didn’t worry over
much. We’ve lost the Internet before. There was a fresh layer of snow on the
ground, and I figured I could blame the weather for this minor inconvenience. I
knew the drill. Our television would be working, but not the Internet (the same
company provides both). I wouldn’t be able to answer any emails on my phone,
either, because my ISP provider was also my cell phone provider.
I could wait it out. I was
patient. I could still write, I didn’t need the Internet for that. I’d be
fine.
Then my phone dinged, letting
me know I had a new email—but my computer was still not online. My phone’s email
has always been down when my Internet is down. I began to consider that maybe,
something else was wrong.
So I called my ISP. I was
pleased that I didn’t have to wait any time at all to listen to an automated
voice tell me all the steps I should now take to solve the most common
connectivity problems before going any further in this call.
I was briefly reminded of that
old, funny bit about the computer user on the phone to tech support about why
their computer wasn’t working at all, and no, they were unable to see the back
of the tower to verify the cords were plugged in when asked, because the
electricity was out and there was no light.
I listened and took note, until
the disembodied voice told me I had to unplug my modem, wait thirty seconds, and
plug it back in. Sadly, this would require me getting onto the floor under my
desk and then somehow getting back up again. I generally ignore my limitations,
but there are circumstances under which I cannot, and this was one of them. I
was given the option to speak to a real person, and this I did. Within a few
minutes, he had verified that my modem was indeed working, and as far as it was
concerned, I was online. Then he asked me if I had a third party router. I do
indeed, and he advised that the router was likely the problem. All I had to do
was....you guessed it. Unplug it, wait thirty seconds, and plug it back in. This
would reboot the router.
The router is on the floor,
under my desk, beside my modem.
I thanked the man for his
assistance, and texted my daughter. She replied that she would drop in around
one o’clock to do that little thing for me.
That was a relief. It was only
a few hours until she could make her way here to manually reset my router. I had
an edit to complete, which I could work on without the Internet. Surely, those
few hours would pass quickly.
Here’s the funny part, at least
to me. I knew that one way or another, before too much time passed, I’d be back
online. But I felt like a smoker who’d just quit, cold turkey.
Actually that’s not really
accurate. I was a smoker who’d quit cold turkey some 13 years ago. This
was much worse. This was horrible. I felt alone, cut adrift in the world, just
another older person trapped inside my house as the snow came down, inch by
freezing inch, and the clock ticked ever so slowly. For the first time in a long
time, the silence of my house got to me. I reminded myself I could play my
iTunes, and since I have more than 650 songs in my iTunes library, which is on
my computer, I would be fine. After five minutes of listening to music on low
volume, I turned it off. I can’t edit and listen to music at the same time,
apparently.
Then my daughter texted that
she’d be by when she brought her daddy home—at about 5:15. My few hours without
service was stretching out to be the entire day. I thought about a news item I’d
seen online the other day about the danger and threat of solar storms, and how a
super burst of energy from the sun could cripple our technology, all of
it, for decades! I shivered as I realized I was getting a tiny personal
glimpse of what this would be like.
I went for my nap at my usual
time, grateful the next hour or so would seem normal to me. We were having beef
ribs for supper and I thought, as I was getting up from my nap, that I would
make a homemade honey garlic sauce to go with. I’d just look that recipe up on
line....
Fortunately I had written it
out and put it on my computer in my “recipe” file. But I couldn’t print it out
because my printer is a wireless one!
Thankfully at 5:15 my daughter
arrived. After several attempts to reboot the router, she informed me it was
dead—likely of old age. My computer is now directly linked to the modem, so I,
at least, am online. And as soon as I finish publishing this essay, I am calling
my ISP for an upgrade. I really do need a modem/router combo unit. And while I’m
at it, a small table it can sit on, so it won’t be on the floor under my
desk.
I guess that’s what I get for
not keeping up with the times.
Love,
Morgan
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