Brandon Unplugged

I am currently sitting in a fantastic condo on 152nd and Saint Nick, which is owned by my friend Signey Harriday. Signey is a fellow Minnesotan that up and moved to New York a few years back, leaving us behind in the snow and ice. Signey and I were trying to figure out how we first met, and we were unable to come up with anything specific. I got to know Signey, however, through participation first in the Bi Show—a production on intersectional identities, which was acted, written, and produced by MaMa mOsAiC Theater Collective, a group of FIERCE women of color performers that includes or has included Jeany Park, Shá Cage, Signey Harriday, and Juliana Pegues.

This trip to New York has been eventful and interesting. I arrived last Friday night and immediately, one of my friends, a dear person that I love and have known for a decade, went into crisis. It was terrifying in that she would not tell me what was really going on, when I offered help she rejected it, and she was far enough away that I could not get to her easily or quickly. The following day she appeared to have stabilized and to be out of danger, only to slip back into crisis the following evening. This time she reached out a bit more, but then, comically, I got off the 1 train, looked back, and watched my cell phone ride away without me. All my friend's contact information and the contact information for the people that could also support her rode away in my phone. That happened on Saturday night. Because of my own personal financial insolvency, I was not able to reconnect to the matrix until Tuesday afternoon. At which point, I checked in with her and she seems ok again. But I am dealing with the guilt of “what if...”

When the hell did our lives become so dependent on electronics? With the loss of my cell phone, I was unable to be of support to a close friend, I have lost my calendar—which includes a pending meeting with a state legislator, performance dates, and important meetings both here and in Minneapolis, and I was basically unable to communicate with anyone.

Last night I discovered that Signey does not have wifi, which left me in an internet black hole. I had planned on doing some work last night, but without the Internet I could not access the information I needed to do the work project, which meant I could not do the work, which means that I am now a day behind where I wanted to be. I had planned on spending a leisurely morning in the apartment, working on several projects and then leaving later this afternoon in order to use the office space that Jeremy and CCR have so generously allotted. But the Internet beckons and I must go. THE MATRIX OWNS ME and I CAN'T UNPLUG!

Where the hell is Morpheus when you need him. I'll take the red pill please.

I am convinced that it is all a capitalist conspiracy, because my first thought was—gee if I only had a Sprint PCS wireless Internet card, this would not be a problem. I could be plugged in all the time just like Johnny Mnemonic. Speaking of the Matrix and Johnny Mnemonic---what is up with Keanu Reeves' fascination with having phone jacks run directly into his medulla oblongata?
On the upside, as usual the food in NY is great, the men are ridiculously beautiful, I have had a great time seeing RJ and Jeremy, and the weather has been stupidly perfect. And once I get my own phone jack installed in the back of my head this morning, all my worries will fade away.