We get signal. Main screen turn on.

After pedaling up to the tiny Broad Ripple Kroger for necessaries, I bicycled back into the alley toward the garage to find my path blocked by an AT&T engineering truck and a guy just heading up in the boom. I resisted the urge to smile and wave and say "Oh, hi! I was fixin' to email your CEO!" For all I knew, this was the last dude battling entropy at the Death Star and, besides, one should always be nice to anyone who is in a position to spit in one's food.

We are now pulling pages on the Uverse intertubes connection and have successfully transacted incoming and outgoing phone calls on the POTS line. Cautious optimism prevails in the halls of Roseholme Cottage.
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