Communication and family life, country-style

A couple of weeks ago we lost our phone service. And since our phone company is also our Internet provider. … Yeah.

And if you remember from a past column, we live in a hole and don’t get cell service. Not a big deal if you don’t like people, you have no social life, no vocational responsibilities involving people, or you like living off the grid, completely disconnected from society.

But … that’s not us.

Finally, some brilliant engineer, whom I am forever indebted to, invented a cellphone that uses the Internet where a cell tower connection isn’t available – thanks a million, whoever you be! Three of our family members now have cellphones with a great company that keeps us in the loop – wherever we are!

Except when our phone and Internet services are down. Like, for 48 hours one weekend last month. Because that meant we had no cell service, either.

We’ve kept a dial-up phone from the dark ages, for emergencies. Normally, when the power goes out, we can use our landline. But this was a power outage of a different kind.

Two memorable days of a strange sort of quiet, in between the minor annoyances of thinking about doing something, and then remembering. … Oh, no. I can’t.

My husband, aka the Preacher, had just discovered a Bible concordance and Google Docs (both online) for jotting down his sermon notes. On that Saturday morning he had to start over with real books and pencil and paper.

On the other side of the continent, our college-age daughter thought we were dead. She’s spending the summer as a camp counselor, more than 2,400 miles away.

If you’re blessed with one of those – a teenager, I mean – you know an hour hardly goes by when they aren’t texting or calling somebody, including a parent. It happened to be the weekend she needed money in her bank account so she could buy more flip-flops and mosquito repellant.

Cuz those suckers are big!

But she loves the fireflies.

But I digress …

When she couldn’t get hold of us, she panicked. Again, if you’re related to a 21st^-century teenager of the female variety, you understand.

Earlier that week, I had made plans to go into Mariposa on Saturday evening. Barely a mile up the road my smartphone buzzed and beeped with texts and messages and missed calls – mostly from her. Even our son had joined the one-sided conversation.

“Mom, I know you’re not dead, but she thinks you are, so would you please pick up and call her back? Not sure what’s going on here.”

I pulled over and sent a couple texts. Once I got to town and connected to cyberspace, Ahh … my world was back to normal. I could communicate again!

Modern American life just isn’t do-able as we’ve come to know it without the Internet.

Did you hear about the woman who got lost last week in a remote section of Northern California? (Read: no cell service). She ran out of gas, gave birth in her car, and then set a forest fire, hoping to be rescued.

I told you. Craziness happens when we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere with no form of communication! Thankfully her smoke signals got someone’s attention, and only a few trees were lost.

About that weekend with no service, we learned from the TDS guy, an aerial line had been shot in Merced – yes, you read that right – disrupting communication for miles. TDS employees are now working on a solution for those of us living in ghost towns and ranching communities in the heart of Gold Country, for the next time a phone line goes down.

Because the last thing we need is another wildfire.

Or a half-crazed daughter too far from home.

This story was originally published July 9, 2015 at 9:49 PM with the headline "Communication and family life, country-style."