Date: Tue Sep 22, 1998 5:49:00 PM America/New_York
Wow! Excited after checking in for the first time in five days to see the C's 5 up with magic number of four, eight games left on a zippered 144 day path atop the Cheney Ten! The backyard looks as good or better in my absence. Thanks to all my plant watering pals!
Drove home to a crazy mess. My ISDN provider CoreTel has gone loco. Friends of friends. Oh boy! Bret switched pipe providers himself requiring a re-establishment of OUR linkage with a fresh cadence of IP numbers on our end as well as his. No problems setting ourselves up here. We've bagged all the necessary signs and with the exception of changing our IP addresses with InterNic (very important, absolutely necessary to the smooth operations of the 'XusNET servers, but not until we have line connectivity again), we appear to be waiting for Bret to get his end simpified. He's acknowledged partially that the problem is on his routers' end, but instead of working to fix this problem he got on a jet plane this morning I believe on his way to a previously scheduled two weeks of cruising the boulevard in California, leaving us nearly, and Peter without even a modem, critically offline. There are a few other server folks also zilched by Bret. Fortunately I have this dial-in modem account still active with RadixNET, and can at least check E-mail, surf, and maintain my client's remote sites. But even the Bookskellar is offline now, and unless I swear out another account with SimpleNET, my commercial doors remain closed to the public. This sucks Bret. This really sucks.
Rusty over in Adams-Morgan has been without his 'XUS mail account since Thursday the 17th. But an IM session today showed him in good spirits and without gripe.
The trip along the southern mirage was a welcomed success. Did some scanning in spare moments, but had less energy as a whole than I'd hoped. Once back online, pictures of this scan and a few others will be posted to a working web server near you! We snapped five more rolls of film, witnessing an unbelievably pastoral way of life on Fripp Island. Deer in herds of three, five, nine, twelve graze the island yards without fear of man or machine, except when they spring blindly across the road when locked by headlights. I had to brake quickly to avoid collision on three separate occasions one night trip out, even at 25 MPH and less. Earlier, on the way to Fripp, we indeed saw a car wrecked by a deer then quivering along the side of I-95 just south of Wilson NC. But one can nearly rub elbows with these Fripp deer in evening's light. An unequivocally peaceful experience, but one I am glad is over so that the rest of my life may resume.
Go Chameleons! (90-48)