Consider Us Even Page 5

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  Instead of plugging in as soon as the door shut, my nightly routine now started with a sandwich of bologna on white bread with a thin spread of mayonnaise. It was served on a paper plate and eaten in my recliner. A little TV while I ate and a moment to check messages using the keyboard I kept on the side table.

  After that is when I plugged in, but only for ten minutes. Just enough time to get warm and feel the flush of digital come over me. At least I intended it to only last ten minutes. There were nights, most nights honestly, I’d let it go on too long. Regularly I woke up with the feed still in my arm and a pool of drool on my chest. But I could do that. I was careful. My feed was virtually an antique.

  Getting technical it was a hot jack, but nothing like what the kids used. My feed came in low and slow, not like what you’d find in a hothouse. Using one of those was like sticking a fire hose into your port. My feed was a drinking straw by comparison.

  I plugged in and let the TV run. Soon everything started to blur and the words coming from the news anchor’s mouth ran together. My head tipped back and my mouth fell open. Something like a calm came over me. I was on the wire.