Within the world of tech thinkers, the distinction between visible and invisible technology gets a lot of discussion. According to the dichotomy, visible technology is something we consciously think of as ‘high tech’ – say, a computer. Invisible technology – say, a phone – blends into the fabric of daily life to the extent we forget that there’s complicated science behind it. As they improve, technologies usually move from visible to invisible. Which, by and large, is a very good thing. One of the few downsides is that our tolerance for error decreases as invisibility increases. When your computer crashes, you’re expecting it to happen. When your phone crashes, you feel vaguely betrayed, as if the fabric of the modern world is slowly unraveling.

At least, that’s how I felt, when I picked up the phone this morning to find, not a dial tone, but a low pitched static hiss. In true tech-dork fashion, I went to work trouble-shooting for about 45 minutes, unplugging, replugging, switching phones, jacks and outlets, dialing in and trying to dial out. Eventually, I gave up, convinced that the problem would right itself given enough time (it’s a phone – how could it possibly not just plug and go?), and headed off to a brass quintet rehearsal.

I returned four hours later to find the problem the same as before, and broke down and called Verizon. Supposedly, supposedly, they’ll be around to fix the problem tomorrow afternoon, but given my past experiences with the company, I’m not holding my breath. And, of course, my trusty cell phone, which gets nearly flawless reception everywhere else in Manhattan, is patchy at best up here in my apartment.

Fine. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, anyway.