401 Frenzy
Posted on May 2, 2015 under Storytelling with no comments yet
Computer crash???
I’ve been everywhere, man I’ve been everywhere, man I’ve crossed the deserts bare, man I’ve breathed the mountain air, man Of travel I’ve had my share, man I’ve been everywhere
I’ve Been Everywhere – Geoff Mack (as sung by Hank Snow)
During the past eight months I have taken three significant road trips. Most of my travel has been in the continental United States, with lesser amounts in Canada. All totalled, I have put over 22,000 kilometers on two different vehicles. That same mileage has been put on this old body. Most of the driving has taken place on Interstate highways. I would agree that it’s not the best way to see North America, but it does give one an appreciation for the scope and magnitude of the countries on either side of the “longest undefended border” in the world.
I am an old road warrior from my long-haired university days. Back in the 70’s I drove across Canada on numerous occasions with a variety of traveling companions. I have plenty of stories in the memory bank. Lately, I have had the pleasure of traveling with my son. He is young and has nerves of steel. He has navigated (at rush hour) Los Angeles and Chicago, and easily maneuvered through Toronto and Montreal as if it were a trip from Dominion to Glace Bay. We encountered a few car problems along the way and only slept in one seedy motel.
Our latest expedition, just completed a few weeks ago, took us through the Northern United States. We saw the Rockies and the Great Plains and even deked into Mt. Rushmore for a little history lesson. Our second last day was the longest, including re-entry into Canada by way of the tunnel at Windsor. Fifteen hours were under our belt when we checked into a Comfort Inn just off the 401.
Needless to say, our fatigue level was in the “very high” range. We settled into our room and, within minutes, I had my laptop up and running. With a deadline looming for one of the papers I write for, I needed to post the story before shutting things down for the night. I reckon that I have been in approximately 24 hotel rooms since last October, and getting connected to the hotel’s Wi-Fi is a routine procedure, done in minutes. At least that’s what usually happens.
With me, fatigue and computer problems are similar to gasoline and matches in the hands of a small child: dangerous. My son, who is quite tech savvy, was unable to help. I grabbed the laptop and headed down to the front desk.
It was now close to midnight (approximately three hours past my usual bedtime) when I appeared in front of a young clerk. I gingerly set the computer on the counter in front of her and ask if she could help me get hooked up to the Wi-Fi. She fiddled with it, as I had done, but to no avail. She apologized and said that there was nothing she could do. I cast a glance her way. No, it was more like a withering stare. She had obviously taken “anti-terrorism” training. She looked me up and down, observing two beady eyes that were drilling a hole right into her forehead. I remained silent while she assessed the threat level. “I will call tech support,” she said. I agreed that that was a very wise thing to do. I suggested that she do the talking with the tech geek.
The minutes seemed like hours as I watched late night traffic whiz by on the 401. I started to do the countdown in my head. “If this problem is not fixed in 10 minutes, I am going to walk the computer out to the highway. I will place it in the middle of the road and watch gleefully as one eighteen wheeler after another turns it into bits and bytes.”
“Mr. MacDonald, your computer is now logged on to our Wi-Fi. Enjoy the rest of your stay.” I snapped out of my trance. Bingo.
The next morning we departed. Even though my computer was safely stored in the trunk, I couldn’t resist looking at the surface of the 401 for debris …
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