Westell F90

-
There you are:  waiting:  patiently waiting.  You are, in a sense, a drooling puppy awaiting a biscuit.  Then again, puppies are not generally known for their patience, are they?  No.  They aren’t.  Thus:  You are not patiently waiting.  You are impatiently waiting.  All the same, you are waiting.  No.  That is a lie.  You are not waiting, not in the least.  You are plunging ahead.  Why?  Because you do not want to waste time.  You’ve wasted so much time.

The storm came and knocked out your connection (which, let us be honest, you did not require in order to be productive); you nevertheless proceeded to spend the next two hours on the phone with a representative of customer service.  With her assistance, the device in question was “reset” and your connection was restored.  Your neighbor, who, you later learned, had also lost his connection, was not as fortunate.  His connection will not be restored until Tuesday.  His provider, it should be noted, is not your provider. 

(But perhaps it should not be noted.  Perhaps none of this should be noted.  Why should, for example, the German, or the one who reads this blog from Germany--or thereabouts--care that it be noted?  I await his or her reply.  In the meantime…)

Hours pass--hours wasted on frivolity--and your connection is again disrupted.  This time, however, the matter is one of authorization.  You dial, once again, for help.  Help is provided, but--alas!--you are informed that your modem is dying.  The representative of customer service advises you to purchase a “Westell F90.”  Alas (yes, again)!  This Westell doohickey is, apparently, no longer made or stocked by any major retailer! 

And there you have it:  Ever more lemons, ever less life.  The lemonade--it perhaps should be noted--rots your teeth.  But at least it is sweet.
  

Popular posts from this blog

SHUSH

-
Along with the stomping freak who uses the flipside of my ceiling as a floor, the folks with whom I share walls cannot tolerate silence. No, they must blast on repeat any of Billboard’s Year-End Hot 100 singles of 2000 through their respective stereo’s speakers. This, in turn, forces me to blast all of my much less popular music to drown theirs out. It becomes a vicious circle of escalating sound. And perhaps the very point of loud music is to drown out all thought, fear, and pain. These days, who can bear to sit quietly and ponder life—let alone read a book? Indeed, the folks in this city—and perhaps the folks in every city—seemingly do whatever they can to stifle the natural inclination to think. At least, that is my impression. After all, the act of thought —the very act of reflection —necessarily slows production and consumption. And we mustn’t have that, no, no. Besides, we need not contemplate our lack of fulfillment or our actual worthlessness if we are too busy playing video ...
Read more

Ginny

-
10/24/2001 : Would you believe I was standing beneath the lit marquee of the Music Box Theater this evening, reading an Emily Dickinson chapbook? I was, but I was doing a poor job of it. And, no, I wasn’t there specifically to read poetry. But I might’ve been the first dude to read Dickinson at that particular location. And, no, I wasn’t reading it aloud. * In fairness (to me), I hadn’t thought to read it aloud. I bring a book or a magazine along wherever I go, just in case it rains. Gotta have something to hold open over my head. Can’t have a sudden shower muck up my carefully sculpted helmet of hair. And if I want something to read, I’ll take an umbrella. But seriously, it’s all about the waiting. If city life doesn’t cultivate patience, then it definitely cultivates insanity. If I find myself waiting (anywhere) beyond the walls of my apartment without something to read, I’ll end up gazing at the passersby, instead. They might gaze back. They won’t smile, though. Never mind if ...
Read more

S T R E A M # 3 0

-
Start: The dog did not enjoy the tuna casserole, and by “dog” I do not mean Sally’s pet collie, I means Sally’s husband, Al. When we stop to think about the things that do not matter – which is something we often do – then, when the time comes, we check our watches and eat our respective tuna casseroles. We eat the tuna casseroles because we know Grandma would be sad if we did not. Thus, or hence, or hence-thus, the problem becomes one of consumption. Finally, the problem is ALWAYS one of consumption. What do you think about Al’s dilemma with the tuna casserole? Beets are enjoyed by cats in the winter when strawberries are not in bloom. DO strawberries bloom? No. Yes? No. I wouldn’t know. I am not a strawberry farmer. Who told you otherwise? Who led you astray? And why would you believe his or hers or their words over mine? What I feel the next time we meet when you are not sad with happiness in the tuna casserole. I haven’t – I couldn’t tell you about the last time I ate apple sauce i...
Read more