Boy that was about as fun...

...as having a lobotomy. Who knew that configuring a wireless router would make me want to throw my computer into the bayou behind my house (or worse, throw ME into the bayou...sure it's only three feet deep, but it's fricken cold outside).

I'm not sure why it is I really *wanted* to get a wireless network going in my house. Maybe it was so I could sit on the back porch, watch the ducks in the water, and chat on the internet. Maybe I just want to be able to do what I'm doing right now: kick back in bed and play on the 'net. Maybe it's some sick, masochistic desire to keep myself up-to-date on technology. (Why, for heaven's sake, why?)

It all really comes down to one thing: something to do. That's what life is all about for the vast majority of humans. We spend our days, evenings, nights, and mornings filling the precious hours with pitter-patter and temporal brickabrack until we fall into bed at night. I can't tell you how many times I've caught myself *inventing* things to do--just so I would have something to busy myself.

Example? Wireless networks.

That's what it all comes back to, really, wireless networks. Oh sure, broadband's a must-have these days. But where's the fun in tethering myself to a desk--even if the tether is a 50' long ethernet cable snaking through my house. It's the point of freedom.

I feel free now that I'm not physically plugged into a black box on the desk. I mean, can you get anymore IBM than that? Oh well, I think I'll wander off and surf CNN.com or something equally mundane and pointless. I can't go outside right now because I'm plugged into the wall socket. :-)

I got wireless!

My airport card arrived today for my iBook. I installed it and immediately went to the coffee shop, where I can enjoy wireless internet access and drink latte and talk about politics and Joni Mitchell.

Wi-Fi cards really signify alot in our culture--the dire need to plug in and connect, the mystical, almost romantic feel of sitting in a coffee shop or a bar or a restaurant or an airport (of the plane variety) and kick back, pull up a web browser or an email window and immediately feel a sense of community, of belonging, of citizenship to something that transcends borders.

Nevermind that we do this while *SITTING* in a coffee shop, a restaurant, or an airport--surrounded by hundreds of other people all doing the exact same thing. Why not unplug? Look around? The best thing that could possibly happen right now would be some weird, wireless-card zapping Virus that knocks routers offline.

In the moments after this virtual apocalypse, I can see the people screaming at their laptops, throwing bluetooth phones through the windows and then sitting there. But it would pass quickly enough, I think. The people would look around, see others in their same predicament, and unite in the common bond of disconnectedness.

Until someone reboots the router, of course. Then it would be business as usual.

Hey...there's a cute girl over at a neighboring table. It's time to disconnect for a while.

I'm a hippy communist bleeding-heart pinko liberal and I have a mac to prove it.

Okay, so I'm in reality fairly conservative. I'm for small government, no social welfare programs (save Student Loans which are actually an investment in future tax base) and I'm against any form of government intrusion into my diet, my habits, or my bedroom.

With that said, I bought a Mac. I absolutely love it. The sound it makes when I press the power button calls out to my deepest soul and says "Go do Yoga." The screen is beautiful, bright, and I can see it in broad daylight. iTunes is a phenominally intelligent product. EVERYTHING about this machine makes sense.

And did I mention it looks cool? It's sleek and white and makes me want to hop a plane to Europe. I think I'll do that one day...just go to the airport and get on a plane to London for the weekend. When I get back on Monday morning, I can say to my friends, when they ask what I did over the weekend, "I went to London for lunch."

That's the point I've come to in life, I think. I like to plan my jaunts into insanity well in advance. Make sure I have the financing in place and will be able to adequately recover. There was a time when my particular neuroses would manifest themselves without warning. A trip to a casino or worse: the Galleria. Coming home with a new ink pen or a new bracelet that I'd never wear again. Or deciding that I want to dress like Neo from the Matrix and buying a black coat on my lunch hour.

I'm all better now. These days, I build up the nervous energy in my system until I can no longer tolerate it. Then, I do something massively impulsive to expell the demons once again. And that's how it goes. Demons expelled. Sanity returns.

One day, I'll be rich and just live on a yacht. Until then, I'll continue loosing it about once a quarter. See you on the other side of the deep end.