The one that holds all the keys to all the information in all the world. The one that keeps you connected to everyone and everything. The one you’re in right this very second. Yeah, that loop: the Internet.
Sadly, that’s the loop I’m out of. Once in a while I’m in the general vicinity, but that’s as close as I come. You see, I have no Internet connection. No smartphone, either. I don’t even have cable television. This austerity, ladies and gentlemen, is the equivalent of sensory deprivation. I hear nothing, I see nothing, and, voilá, I know nothing. Lizard people could be running the world for all I know. Seriously. Neptunians would get the news before I did.
I’m out here on my own, disconnected and unplugged, wandering from wi-fi hotspot to wi-fi hotspot. A nomad, a gypsy, an itinerant blogger, that’s me. I scurry from Barnes & Noble to McDonald’s to Starbucks. One more latte and, glug glug, I’ll drown. I swear I will.
This being out of the loop thing is expensive, what with gas and coffee and all. But it’s a price I’m happy to pay. Who wants to be seen as a mooch, the bum who shows up to cadge free wi-fi? Not me. I’d like to at least look like a paying customer, even if I can’t afford to spring for a book or a bacon cheeseburger every time I check email.
I’m not a cheapskate, really I’m not, but I do live like one.
This weekend, I was lucky, I picked up a dog sitting gig — for people with connections. Television and Internet, a totally la-di-da set up. They’re wired, man — premium channels, pay per view, Netflix, high-speed Internet, the whole enchilada.
I’ve cruised and surfed and tuned in, I’ve downloaded and uploaded and remote-controlled until I’m cross-eyed. When I haven’t been on the Internet I’ve been parked in front of the fancy schmancy big screen tv. My eyes are bloodshot, my head is pounding, my brain is in overload, and the dogs are … Wait, the dogs.
Oh, isn’t that cute? They’re trying to dial 9-1-1.
Copyright © 2013 Publikworks