Like all of us, I dread any contact with phone companies/phone trees/billing bureaucracies of all kinds. So when the iPad failed to fire up the internet for the Bride on Sunday, I knew fate was pointing a witchy finger at me, that my destiny pointed phoneward...
I tried to remedy this myself, but the laptop browser said the router was "unprovisioned" and, to reset it, I need a twenty (!) digit "keycode."
SO, steeling myself for crushing despondency, I dialed the service number and immediately started pounding the 0 button as hard and quickly as my fragile, birdlike arms would allow. Ah! I get someone who has her shit togther (miracle 1). She puts me through to some other youngster who knows about these things (Oh! forgot to mention that the link offered by the router's manufacturer to get "lost/forgotten keycode" went to some other company who had taken over manufacturer, and their "help with keycode?" link went back to their own front page). She says she can't help if I'm not at my laptop, but that she would call me later when I was home and walk me through the steps to repair it. (!!!1!!)
WHICH SHE DID (miracle 2)!
So, what about Low? I was just thinking of another Charlie Kaufman Movie Plot (do I have a label called that? checking. Nope, do now) about the people working in the RCA offices the day everyone first heard the newly-delivered Low...just that, what the mood in the office was, maybe a subplot about some exec with a Freddy Prinz haircut cheating on his wife with a 70's Claudine Longet while his son is dying of cancer, then Bowie delivers THIS abomination. And other plot points. And dirty New Yawk streets. Shots of bits of paper and trash blowing around an impeccably set-dressed 1976 as "Warsawza" plays [too pressed for time to check spelling, my sweets]. That sort of thing! So, yeah, I wanted to talk about this, but remembered I owed you lucky souls The ATT Story.
Yeah.
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