New Heathens

The True Story of How My Laptop Died

This might be my last post for a while. Get a load of this story.

Yesterday I was working on a story in Binghampton, NY. I stopped in the Cyber Cafe West on Main Street to type up my notes. I took a seat inside by the window, ordered a bowl of vegetarian chili, and got to work, frantically.

I was typing furiously on my MacBook while holding my phone to my ear with my shoulder so I could talk to the reporter I was working with.

Suddenly I something went "WHAM!" right next to my head. A split second later there was a "SPLAT!" on my table.

I jumped from shock and my computer tumbled from my lap to the floor. I looked down and saw a dead bird lying on its back in my bowl of chili. Its feet stuck straight up in the air. It was a beautiful black songbird with red spots and feathers edged with peacock green. The sucker had slammed into the window, riccocheted off and crash landed in my lunch.

"The bird is dead, deal with the live reporter on the line," went my brain.

A minute later the bird started kicking its feet. It wriggled out of the bowl and shook itself off, spraying me and all my belongings with chili. It flapped around the table, sending beans and feathers flying (all the while I tried to have a serious conversation with a reporter on deadline).

Finally, a lady ran up, grabbed the bird in cupped hands and pushed it out the door. It flew away.

Funny story, right? Not so funny this morning when my computer wouldn't turn on.

I took it to a couple computer specialists today. The unanimous verdict? Crashed hard drive. Everything is gone. The 18-inch slide from my knee, down my shin and to the floor was enough to kill the hard drive.

And I had NOTHING backed up. All my photos, essays, songs and lyrics GONE.

Grrrrrrr...having just been reunited with my external hard drive on Wednesday, because for the better part of two years its been in use recording and mixing the New Heathens record, I had planned to back up my computer over the weekend. But then I got called to Binghamton. And then I needed to find a place with WiFi to file my notes, maybe a little internet cafe that sold food...

I will say, that was the first time in my life I ever sent a meal I ordered back to the kitchen.

Waiter? There's a fly in my soup? Brother, have I got a story for you.

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