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Karen Rinehart column: The disconnected December birthday
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Published: December 24, 2008
OK. This is NOT the way to start my birthday. And a December Birthday at that. You know (or you're about to know), presents wrapped in Christmas or Hanukkah paper, combination gifts, friends already out of town. Forty-four years worth of Christmas tree ornaments as birthday presents requires one to purchase a reeeeeeealy tall tree.
A day without Facebook? Especially the day of all days I want to check the membership level of the first and only on-line group I've formed: Vote To Ban The Illegal Use of Christmas Paper on December Birthday Gifts.
A day without the Internet? Where's my Valium? And why is it, when the Internet goes down, I suddenly think of 52 things I absolutely need to get done on line. Pay bills. Shop for an out of print book for my brother's birthday. Investigate what sites my kids have visited. Download iTunes. Answer 8-month-old e-mails.
It's like when the electricity goes out and I think, gee, now would be a good time to bake that bread recipe I've been wanting to try.
Or the plumber has the water main shut off, and I get the urge to do a load of whites.
Or my daughter has the car and suddenly going to the library to pay our hefty overdue fine seems appealing.
What am I going to tell my boss when he's waiting for me to meet deadline? And how am I going to tell him….use the, um, telephone? Does anyone do that any more? I guess I could text him from my cell, but it'd take a lot of thumb power and money to explain why my Internet is down. Again. He's going to think it's the most creative excuse I can come up with for not getting my work done on time.
Two weeks ago when it was down, the cable repair guy showed up without prior notice. At 8 a.m. While I was still in my pajamas. Without the benefit of a second cup of coffee and chance to read the comics. And naturally, when he cranked up our computers and ran the diagnostic tests, everything worked flawlessly.
They usually call when they're on their way over: "Ms. Rinehart? This here's Bud from Cable. You still havin' problems with your Internet?" I hold out the phone so Bud can hear my son pounding his head against the keyboard. "Then I'll head on over your way. Be there shortly."
At least that gives me time to get dressed, sweep the piles of clean laundry off the kitchen island and throw them on my unmade bed, clear a path to the computer modem through the dog toys, backpacks and shoes the size of Nebraska. I mean, these guys have got to talk amongst themselves, you know?
"Yeah, that Rinehart house?"
"The one with the dogs, revolving door of teenagers and crazy woman in her pajamas who swears she needs the Internet for 'work'?"
"Yeah! Man, one time I found this sock behind the desk…"
Karen Rinehart's column appears Sundays in the Independent Tribune. Read more and listen to podcasts at www.busstopmommies.com.
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