Thursday, March 27, 2014

Prepare for Take-off


I could not be any less suited for travel.  I fret the moment the flight is booked, tracking weather patterns, terrorist threats, even glacial shifts that may somehow affect travel.  I begin saying goodbye to people in sad, inappropriate ways.

My daughter finally said “Mom, why do you keep acting like the plane is going down?”   I don’t!  You just said “Since I’m convinced our plane is going down…”  Oh that.  I was talking about something else.

I asked my sister if she had realized yet that if our plane goes down, it’s the end of our family line.  No, she hadn’t quite thought of that yet, but thanks for the warning!    

I began organizing my office as if I were leaving Earth, converting it into a mausoleum.     Once the 10-day forecasts were released, I started tracking all upcoming weather- and precipitation-related events, like snow storms.

For the ten days leading up to our departure, the weather was predicted to be perfect, albeit frigid.  I researched de-icing practices and felt pretty confident, based on airline policy and interviews with various travelers, that iced wings would not be the thing to take us down.  I was feeling confident.

On day seven of the 10-day forecast, though, suddenly things shifted.  The day that had promised to be sunny, crisp and safe held the tail-end of a major snowstorm.  I went into calamity preparation mode.   And my version of calamity preparation mode would not prepare me for much.  It involved me telling everyone I saw about my fear of flying, hoping that someone would reassure me enough to drop it.   I never met that person.

I began praying in earnest and making little deals with God and myself.  I denied being worried, hoping it would convince my brain that I was not worried.  My brain had gotten really good at knowing when I was lying.  I started a computer file for my husband “If I don’t make it back.”  I began to worry about my dog.  How would he manage without me?  I eventually became obsessed with this thought, treating him like a terminal patient.  “Oh buddy, you’re gonna be fine.  Everything’s ok.”  He definitely picked up on my angst and began limping around, sagging his head, watching me cautiously from his half-sleeping state.  He never fully closed his eyes around me.  Great.  Now I’ve ruined my final days with him.

That’s when I stopped myself, remembering that I had done this before my last trip, and the one before that.  There’s always a flight or a storm or an illness.  Isn’t that just life? We do not control of any of this, and my efforts to wrestle it are wasted.   The only moment I have is happening right now.  Why can’t I seem to get that?  So I let myself accept that the flight is probably not going to take me down.

And began worrying that the crazy cab ride might.

Megan Davis Collins hates to fly, but loves the Gulf of Mexico. megdavcol@gmail.com

The Cable Guy


January 24. 2014 12:01PM

VIEW FROM 129: A lot of work to get the internet up and running


If I could do it all over again, I would have pursued a trade. Maybe become a hair stylist, but only if I could sit down while I cut. A plumber might be good, but not if I had to put my hand in a toilet. And I think I’m too afraid of getting shocked to become an electrician.
But a computer technician would be a smart career. They’re in high demand, likely employed for life.
When our internet service went down, I made the dreaded call to Verizon. I should know by now that that’s not my best move. Actually I do know that by now. But it was my day off and my husband kind of dared me to do it, by implying that I would get eaten alive by Customer Service. Remember, it’s not our computer. Keep putting it back on them. If only I knew exactly what I was putting back.
I’m pretty good in a tense situation. I maintain my cool and don’t usually get too pissy. But the flip side is that I can’t always scare people into giving me what I want. I don’t always have what it takes to get all up in anyone’s grill, especially when it involves a computer.
So I can’t get swept up in their good manners and exotic accents. They are seated at desks, far away from my frozen DSL cable. That alone should get me worked up, but it doesn’t. They are so polite, talking to them feels very removed from my frustration at Verizon. I know I need to stay focused on the problem, but I’m just not a good angry consumer.
The really pleasant Anita doesn’t help matters. She never interrupted, and in fact waited at least 12 seconds before responding, saying things like "Ok now kindly go to your tools bar," "OK, now please, if you will, click the Advanced Controls." Soon I was carried away by her unending patience, feeling privileged to have met her.
Before I knew it, I was dripping with sweat, hooking and unhooking wires, listening to Anita’s polite voice from the speaker phone, directing me what to do. While I fumbled with the tangle of cables, afraid to get a shock, I wondered how I had become a computer technician on my day off. I also wondered why the computer technician was the only one not being paid for this call. I think that’s what it took to finally get me angry.
Folded over a file cabinet, my head hanging upside-down in back of the "tower", I was searching for some wire that was supposed to plug into the router. I was also searching for a filter on the phone and a reset button on the modem.
I had stopped searching for the day off that had somehow slipped into cyberspace. Actually, I think it had found the lovely Anita who was sitting at her desk calmly ordering me around, probably playing Solitaire.
Megan Davis Collins successfully cleared a browser history and reset a modem, but that’s it.