The last month has seemed like a forced term in solitary confinement, as I’ve been deprecated of something more precious than running water or a functioning toilet—the Internet. I know, me and my first world problems. No Internet, no Facebook, no Twitter. So yeah, pretty much my go in solitary.
I didn’t forget about all of you (i.e. all twelve of my family members, six of whom go by “mom”), I’ve just been living in a Soviet prison, devoid of any of the traces of modern communication. Pity me, and then move on with your lives. But not before you read this.
Here’s where we’ve been. I spent two weeks living in a tent—not a metaphorical tent, mind you—but fortunately did not have to go without a pipe, bacon or bourbon, thank God. We listed our house, which went under contract and then fell back off, we had an apartment lined up only to watch it fall through two days prior to move, then found a house to rent at quite literally the last moment. I put 4700 miles on my car in 20 days, and simultaneously put at least three Starbuck’s employee’s kids through college during that span. Don’t do the math; it gets fuzzy. They were probably Latino and had some kind of crazy-ridiculous government grant, which in the end I probably funded anyway.
But last night marked a watershed moment for our family. We all watched in eager anticipation, gathered in our new living room, as something like sight was restored to the blind: the nicest of all cable guys wired us back in to that thing without which we just don’t seem to function properly, the Internet. We’re back on the grid. We get to see daylight again.
For better or for worse, we’re back. Cue the posts about bacon, manliness, and crude childish behavior like peeing on people. By the way, the photo is me at my new job. Guns, beards, and tons of ammunition. A boyhood dream.