Oh, bother…

Monsoon is in full swing. And with it comes the part I always forget later, the annual “I can’t stay connected!” drama.

I’ll be sixty years old next year, and I’ve got a lot of miles on my chassis. In some ways my outlook is positively old-fashioned, and nowhere more so than with technology. I love it that I can sit in a crappy handmade cabin so far back in the desert the coyotes need GPS to find my chickens, and talk to a satellite with a computer so small it could fit in a rucksack and not even squash a bag of potato chips. Add the fact that I’m supplying all the electricity for it myself, and I gotta tell you: That just never gets old to me.

(Did you enjoy the subtlety of that plug? Hey, if Glen Reynolds can plug his wife’s book mercilessly, like with every third post, I figure I can slide in the occasional sly mention…)

Ahem – anyway, my point is, sometimes technology doesn’t work quite as well as at other times. And apparently one thing satellite connections don’t like is a lot of air turbulence. Like when it’s Monsoon season. So every time I’m just about done writing a blog post, like right this second, I’m typing as fast as I can and sneaking worried glances at the lights on my modem, muttering, ‘Just another few seconds, don’t fail me now…”