Sat down to my trusty laptop, fired up mozilla firefox expecting the familiar and friendly colors of my start page and nothing. Rebooted laptop. Still no net. Re-cycled the cable modem. No joy. Rebooted the server computer. (We have a seriously geeky house) Still nothing. Call RCN. Wait through the interminable phone message, press 1 for English, 3 for internet, 1 for highspeed, etc. . . only to find out that RCN has crapped out for the entire greater Boston area.
So I can't read, post or comment on poetry, can't chat with my writing buddies, can't write or answer email. Sigh. In the grand scheme of things, no major crisis. I have a roof over my head, food on the table, clothing on my back. More to be thankful for than I have space to write.
But so much of my community, my personal support systems now exist through the medium of the internet. I feel cut off. As if I've been isolated in my home by a sudden unexpected blizzard.
So what does that say about me? It might be tempting to assume that I'm a shut-in, or that I have no family or support network around me. Neither are true. However, in a world increasingly fragmented into strident constituencies, I have found it necessary to reach out into the electronic diaspora of the net to find a larger community.
I'm glad to be back.
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