Sunday evening and the daughter was indignant, “The
internet isn’t working,” she called down from the corner upstairs bedroom. The whole internet or just ours? I wondered if Al Gore would be available on
short notice. I mean who better to call
to fix the internet than the guy who (apocryphally) invented the damn thing. It had been a long, hard day of moving. The house was a mess. There wasn’t one room in the place save the
bathrooms that wasn’t piled with boxes and bags. I’d just been on the internet earlier in the
day so I tried to ignore her and hoped the whole issue would go away. I don’t like fixing electronic things. Then again I don’t like fixing plumbing
things, metal things, wooden things, mechanical things or automotive
things. Yeah, I’m not the DIY guy. If I ever win the lottery I’m going to put a
DIY person on retainer.
