Photo by Donna Voss

And by technology glitch, I mean my bonehead move that could have ended badly but didn’t because I have a technology angel (and a parking angel and a falling angel). (But not a grocery store check-out line angel.)

I’m getting a little full of myself, I must admit. My Don’t Unfriend Me business partner and I have done a photo shoot, designed our business cards and stationery, established a FB page and a Twitter account, hammered out the format for our Deep Dives* into every controversial subject under the sun (intro, history, legal environment, ripped-from-the-headlines dilemma, debate, and takeaway—oh—and the all-important cartoon).

Whatever possessed us to take on sanctuary cities as our first deep dive? It’s like starting Bible study with the book of Isaiah. We decided the only thing sanctuary cities doesn’t include is Nordstrom. However. Doing the hardest one first has its appeal. I finished 4,119 words yesterday, and that’s just the Intro and History.

I was feeling oh so pleased with myself that I somewhat over-confidently taught myself how to use my fancy schmancy new headset for my radio interview this morning. I read the manual (at least I thought I did), tested every part, organized it carefully on my desk so it would be ready to go, and sat back, ready to rumble.

The radio interview was going so well until I reached up to adjust the headphones. Apparently, there are buttons on the headphones themselves that one needs to familiarize oneself with. I was in rare form this morning, making excellent observation after excellent observation with tons of humor, and feeling like such a pro. Then I heard them say, “I guess we lost her.”

Does everyone else already know there’s a mute button on the side of a set of headphones? More importantly, who knows what button it is? I’m smart enough to realize I had hit a mute button, but try as I might, I couldn’t find it. I pressed all the buttons up there like Will Farrell in the elevator in Elf. It was like a game of Marco Polo. I would say, “Can you hear me?” and I would hear back, “Is she there?”

Not to worry, I thought. I’m a regular enough guest that they’ll call me back, and they did. Once again it was Marco Polo: “Can you hear me?”  “Is she there?” Not really panicked but definitely adrenalated, I tried to remember how to disconnect the headset and go back to the phone itself. I did remember, which was pretty impressive, but the adrenaline was making my hands shake so much, I couldn’t get the telephone line into the port (or whatever that’s called) on the bottom of the phone. I’m talking, like, 40 seconds. They were long gone by the time I managed to connect everything up.

My technology angel smiled on me, and they called me back again. The good folks at Ringside Politics must know me by now because when I said, “I’m so sorry about that,” they didn’t even ask. And why should they? It it hadn’t been that, it would have been something else, and it will probably be something else next time.

I haven’t decided whether to laugh it off as though I’m the Absent-minded Professor, or to solemnly remind myself that pride goeth before a fall.

*Deep Dive – Mini e-book focused on one subject in depth. So deep, deep, deep that all facts are checked, (most) sources are original data, and both the progressive and conservative hold each other to the epitome of intellectual honesty. CliffsNotes for 21st century issues.