Disconnected!

See this? This is my phone. Look closer; blow it up if you need to. Hmmmm..I bet now you’re wondering why it is not dancing in its cradle, ringing off the hook with people calling. Because this is not animated? Wrong! It’s not because this isn’t a you-tube video; the phone is silent. Yes, hear that again. Silent.

Now, take a look at this picture of my modem. As you can see, the DSL and internet lights are dark.
Your mind is probably racing now, your heart beating fast, and you are getting worried. Dark modem lights and silent phones are never good. You suspected that northern Vermont is near the end of civilization, but beyond it altogether? No, surely that can’t be, so you try again. Has something terrible happened in the wilds of Vermont--during foliage season no less--that hasn’t made it to CNN yet? Nope. Wrong again. So, what can explain this inconceivable phenomenon? Alien interference? Nope, nothing that exciting, nothing newsworthy.

Rewind to last evening, about 6. I am walking in the door. Having been given a glimpse of the future I am sure you can understand, and perhaps even feel, the dread, disbelief and horror that overcomes me as I walk in and hear dh say, “The phones are not working.”

“What? What do you mean, ‘not working?’ What phones are not working?” I ask, hand to heart, face blanching.
“Our phone. The house phone,” he says.
“We don’t have internet either,” my ds adds somberly, testifying to the gravity of this situation.

Off I head, without delay, to get one of our cell phones, which work poorly at best, and then only in a few isolated corners of the house, to call the phone company to report the outage, wondering what I was going to do with the evening. I had things to do, e-mails to check, weather and blogs to read, BBC news to check, maybe even the day in pictures, a little mahjong to play…the list is endless. So, standing perfectly still, by the window in the corner of the living room specified by dh as the place where his cell phone works, I make the call.

The phone company offices are closed, of course, but I can report my out of service line to a real person! Wow, there are some benefits to a lack of technology in the far reaches of Maine where the phone office is located.
“Have you checked your phones?” the attendant asks after taking my non-working phone number.

Okay, shift here: Remember the Shadow in Mad Magazine, the little fellow who said the things that couldn’t be said while his flesh and blood familiar said what had to be said? Well, enter the Shadow. He is standing beside me.

Shadow: “No, I had a vision while I was driving home that my phone wouldn’t be working. Since I have cell service here and not there I decided to call, because well, I knew the phone won’t be working, my visions are always accurate.”
Me: “Check the phone?” Incredulous tone of voice. “I picked it up. I don’t have a dial tone.”

“Okay,” the attendant says, “I’ll put in a trouble ticket.”
“When do you think this will be fixed?” I ask.
“Usually within 24 hours,” the attendant offers, seemingly uncomprehending of the magnitude of her words. No “I’m sorry,” no sigh of compassion.

Shadow: Anguished scream. “24 hours??? ‘Usually??’ What do you expect me to do for 24 hours without a phone or internet? Do you not understand that this can’t be? I can’t be without a phone or internet, and what if it is more than 24 hours? What then? This is completely unacceptable. Can’t you call the tech people at home for emergencies like this?”
Me: “24 hours??” Voice croaking, “Usually??? I need a phone. I need the internet to do some work. This is an unsafe situation,” I tell her. “What if there is an emergency? I can’t even call 911.”

Surely this out-in-the-woods woman understands and will do something!! After all, she is talking to me from some place in northern Maine. I can see her connected to a maze of wires, switching and pulling them in and out, sitting alone in a tiny log cabin in the middle of moose filled woods, an empty highway stretching into the trees, carless in both directions. But no, she doesn’t understand in spite of her isolation and the moose breath fogging her windows.

“I can note that you want them to come in the morning, but I don’t make the schedule.” Still no “sorry,” no empathy for my plight. “Is there a phone number we can reach you at if we need to?”

Shadow: “Lady, are you nuts? Totally nuts? Why do you think I called the repair line? But, sure, since you asked, I do have a connection to the beyond, as you clearly understand from the visions. Just beam in at 1-800-vision and you can get me any time of the day or night. No technology required.”
Me: “No, my phone isn’t working.”

So here I am, 14 hours later, the phone is not dancing, the modem lights are dark; I am disconnected in the middle of the wilds of northeastern Vermont with wild turkeys circling my house, a flock of robins eating my tiny crab apples in the front yard and a pack of coyotes yipping excitedly down in the woods.

Surprisingly, the day stretches before me like an endless river. I feel as if I can do lots of things today: take some pictures, write something for my blog, do some planting, maybe even vacuum!
And I do. I write this, do some paperwork, eat lunch, walk the dogs,…and then whammo. Along comes the phone repair man. The main wire from the house to the box has gone bad. We may have to get a new one put in, which won’t happen for at least a month.

Shadow: Another, even more anguished, scream, this time tinged with disbelief and thoughts of a permanently cricked neck from making cell calls in cell friendly corners of the house. “A month!!! No phone, no internet?? How’s that going to work??”
Did that get you? It sure got me! No sweat, though, I can be hooked up right away, and I am.

Back in business, I say good bye to the Shadow (although I have to confess he is a pretty frequent companion) and return to the house.

The day no longer stretches quite so far ahead; it is no longer quite as full of possibility as it was before the phone man arrived. I can do the things I have to do. The day is decidedly contracted. The turkeys have gone to their mid-day roosts, and the coyote yipping is getting increasingly fainter.

Epilogue
I planted anyway, and didn’t do some of those other things. It’s a good thing I vacuumed early.

My suggestion
Take a vacation. Turn off the ringer and don’t turn the computer on. Do some of those want to’s , and you might be amazed at what you get done--maybe even some vacuuming!