Wifi in the Mountains

Wifi in the Mountains

Cabin fever isn’t what it used to be. Depressing as it can be to watch yet another snow/sleet/ice storm replace the snow I have been willing to melt (through great concentration, I might add), it used to be worse. Not all the seed catalogues in the world could change the fact you were hemmed in, locked up with yourself and your equally desperate loved ones. You were doing the same old things: dragging out your winter boots, which suddenly seemed to weigh a ton, getting up in the dark, shoveling, mincing you way along icy walkways. Almost every task became a chore.

What about all my pontificating about playing in the snow keeping one sane? If I had time to play in the snow, it would. But it took me two hours to get wood in for the upcoming week, since my dear spouse’s back is out. I tried to have fun doing it. I made a game of tossing the logs from the woodshed over an eight foot snow bank, loading them onto a toboggan, dragging the (now extremely heavy) craft to my car, loading that, driving that to my porch and unloading the wood. Twice. So now I’m too pooped to have any more fun in the snow.

The lack of visual novelty at the end of winter contributes to the problem. Nature is now predominantly white, black or mud-brown. I’m electrified by the red flash of a cardinal. I stand like an idiot in front of the flower store in Brattleboro whose window is full of orchids. I can’t imagine what Inuits do-- well, actually, a lot of them produce art they bring down to Toronto, Montreal and Ottawa. So maybe it would be a good idea to study them a bit more closely. But anyway.

Now, things are different, just because we have DSL /wifi. And not a day goes by that I’m not grateful to have it. I realize most people have made the transition from dial-up with less fuss. For them, DSL is sort of a snore. But being a thorough-going rube, I find the difference staggering.

My system doesn’t crash when someone sends me a picture via email. In fact, I welcome them. I can watch videos online-- I saw Doubt recently-- a wintery sort of flick, to be sure, but very good. My husband found an amazing interview with Peter Sellers. I’ve become addicted to actor interviews at the Actor’s Studio with James Lipton. These videos are what television promised to be but never quite achieved.

The educational potential of the internet is even more vast. Recently my husband watched a YouTube video on how to remove screws whose heads had broken off, or whose head groove had been stripped. (Didn’t you always wonder how to deal with that? Since I've left so many screws stripped, half in, crooked,making my project look like it had been made by a really impatient kindergartner, I was curious.) The video was made by a kid, maybe seventeen, who very matter of factly gave the list of tools you need, an a list of tools you didn’t need, and demonstrated the process very clearly--with none of the condescension one can encounter in hardware stores. It’s education without the attitude!

I have attended “Webinars”, learned how to wet-felt, watched the making of several DIY tumbling composters, my husband has attended virtual classes in business, and we haven’t even scratched the surface of what could be done.

Wifi makes Skype possible, which my son uses to have conversations with his girlfriend with video, I’ve been able to download political organizing materials to work for healthcare reform-- all from our isolated home. Suddenly we are not so hemmed in by our little hills, by the snow, ice, and sleet.

I can only begin to guess how it could transform the economic opportunities in Vermont.