The internets went down this morning. I was out of internets, friends in the next county over were out of internets and I just learned folks in neighboring states were out of internets. That’s a lot of people who’ve completely run out of internets.
According to Windstream, who has a complete monopoly on phone and internet service in my neck of the woods, there are still issues here and there. I was treated to the incomparable sight of a mob of retired gents descending upon our local Windstream office to register their ire in no uncertain terms to the hapless young ladies behind the desk. Windstream, like I assume most internet and phone service providers, can be rather frustrating to deal with. Between the busy signal on their phone lines and the crowd of gents at the local office, I never got a chance to register my complaint. Not that, in my experience with that company, it would have done any good.
However, it was quite an adventure this morning. The idea of trying to figure out where the closest active WiFi hotspot is, and realizing everyone else in your predicament is doing the same, to the thrill of elation at the idea of technology failing. I will admit to having taken the long way home from town, through still-green valleys ringed with misty mountains, and having discovered a wonderful local bookstore.
Now all is well again. We can Facebook, Tweet and Google to our hearts content once more. But I can’t be sorry for the havoc this morning. For though the technology may have been failing all about me, a majestic stag came to the edge of the road, looked right at me, and then safely fled into the laurel. The internets may die, but the earth shall remain.