Sunday, June 24, 2012

AC/DC 'Black Ice'



I managed to charge the battery in my cell phone Friday afternoon with a series of electrical connections that would make Frank Hannon of Tesla proud. I used two clipboards and a desk telephone for the perfect balance of pressure to make all the right power pack connections. It was a thing of beauty and it was easy to do.

But I got greedy.

I kept my phone powered up all afternoon. Hearing The Shark (Majic 94.1) sing a line from Queen’s “Flash” alerts me that I have a newscast coming up. After all… I found a way to charge my phone. All I had to do was to find that sweet spot again with only a few items from around the house. A simple swap of objects would take care of it. Not a problem.

But I was wrong.

It became a difficult hit and miss and hit again… Damn. Miss again process. There was much cursing. There was pacing back and forth. There were moments where I just wanted to start chewing on a wall and claw sheet rock from it. I lost a clump of hair before I got a full charge back on that damn Blackberry. It was one of the most hellish Saturdays that I have ever experienced.

It had become abundantly clear that keeping the battery alive until Monday evening was thus far, the most important thing in my life. I would have to disconnect myself from the rest of the world by powering off my cell phone. I would have to regulate the use of my Blackberry to important Foursquare matters only. And while I had it powered up for my check in, I would look for fresh messages and updates. Then power it down.

I didn’t miss it during our visit with friends on Saturday evening. I don’t usually bring my phone to social situations. I make a habit of keeping the sound turned off or I leave it in the glove box. I will check for things on the sly when I break away from the herd. So with it in the car and no intentions of turning it on again for the next 18 hours… I felt some kind of weird relief.

I managed to top off the charge on Sunday afternoon with little anger and no structural damage to the house. The Everready Cat god was smiling upon me again.



I didn’t turn on the phone until Monday morning for my first Foursquare check in. My shoes felt lighter. Life was good again.

I called to see if my replacement phone had arrived after one o’clock that afternoon. I remembered looking out the 600 WSJS studio window and seeing a cloudless sunny June day when I heard the words, “You phone is here. We’re ready to swap it whenever you are.”

I nearly wept right in front of newsman Ed Skurka.

It was a perfect ending to a perfect day.

But little did I know that another setback was ahead of me.


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