The Most Vitriol I Can Manage ~ Blog 12

The enemy.

As election day is, in some spots less than 13 hours away, you've probably heard enough negative ads and had enough negative emotions. We, as Americans, need to unite in our hatred, not positive vibes.

This is why I come to you with a story of a cell phone company. If Mother Theresa were still alive, she would probably have bad things to say about her cell phone company. I've used Verizon, AT&T and Cingular. The Wife used Sprint during our faux dating and pre-marital periods. We've never been overly impressed with any service. After years of trying, both AT&T and the iPhone have found a new way to tick me off.

It started two weeks ago to the day, when I decided to go 110 miles north to Portland, Maine, for a Man Date with Nacho Man and The Bearded Beernut. Nacho Man is a former roommate of mine and TW (we had to help pay for PA school somehow). During his tenure in our rented house, he started dating Lu Who. Lu Who lived approximately 15 feet away from Nacho Man in the other half of a split-entry home with her mother, who was also our landlord.

I'll tell you that story some other time.

Two weeks ago, Lu Who was in the Far East on an international work trip. Lu Who and I are peas in a pod, despite a 12-year age gap. Her birthday is the day before mine and we've been known to spend the entire day eating bacon-dusted French fries and, generally, acting like 13-year-olds. Nacho Man and TW generally shake their heads at us. Lu Who and I make fun of them.

The height of the Photo Project.

With Lu Who in the Far East, I wanted to let her know she was missed ... but in a fun way. It occurred to me as I walked from the house to catch my bus to Portland: I would take photos with my camera and text Lu Who all the way to Portland. Because her phone didn't work in the Philipenes, she would arrive home to a slew of text messages. Her phone would explode with texts! It was a brilliant way to tell her she was missed. I started with aplomb. I took a picture from the walk; a picture from my seat on the bus; a picture out the window of the bus taken of a liquor store; a picture crossing into New Hampshire; a picture crossing into Maine; a picture arriving in Portland.

I took a picture of The Bearded Beernut when he picked me up at the bus station; a picture of Meat Head (Nacho Man's brother) when he picked us up to go downtown.

At dinner at Nosh, everybody got into the act. At our table, I took a picture of The Bearded Beernut, who took a picture of me, while Nacho Man and Nacho Man's brother took pictures of us taking pictures. A waitress walked by and took a picture of her own. It was like a TV picture inside a TV picture that goes on forever.

I took a picture of my beer; I took a picture of bacon fries; I took a picture inside the bathroom at LFA (there were neat posters on the walls). The next day, the Photo Project continued. I sent more bus pictures; there was a picture of a giant American flag inside Logan Airport; there were pictures of my dog. The Bearded Beernut sent pictures and texts as well. As the days progressed, I continued to send photos and texts. Once, I texted Lu Who's mother and Lu Who, counting on the mom to respond reply all, which she invariably does with group messages. It worked.

Lu Who was gone for two weeks and I texted her every day. Sometimes just text, often with pictures. There were trees, there were pictures of TW on a date night. It was, in essence, everything I did and everywhere I went for two weeks.

Lu Who landed in Newark on Friday at 5:15 p.m. I didn't hear from her. She arrived in Boston around 8:30 p.m. Still nothing. I texted her. She was tired and sent a short text back. Was she mad at me?

No. It turns out I should be mad at AT&T or her phone. It's unclear which. Lu Who texted me Saturday after Nacho Man informed her of the Photo Bomb project. She received three pictures and three text messages from me. No record of the night out. No pretty fall leaves. No bus photos.

If you're still reading this, and God help you for that, and you have any technical knowledge, perhaps you can explain where the hundreds and hundreds of text messages are. Perhaps you have a magical answer that I am missing. Lu Who deleted old texts from me. Still nothing. It is as if the messages were never sent.

That, we can all agree, is the real travesty of this election cycle. We, as Americans, should band together to text Lu Who photos and text messages to show her our support. Thank You, and God Bless complaining on the Internet about things.