Michael Appleby Returns!

Oh my god! I almost lost you guys for good. Friday night after I got home from work I booted up my computer and got this strange message about my internet connection saying that I had little or no connectivity to Telus. So naturally that meant I couldn't log onto the internet to do anything. I couldn't check my email. I couldn't update everybody's favorite blog. I could hurl insults at Kevin Federline. I couldn't do anything at all!

After a number of frustrating phone calls placed to Telus technical support I could accomplish nothing with regards to restoring my connection and things were looking bleak because (gasp!) it was beginning to look like an anomalous hardware problem which would require an actual technician to go through my shit. I would have, of course, gone that route and hired a technician to get things running again, but it would have meant waiting until (gasp!) Wednesday since I have a couple of day shifts to plow through at work.

I had all but given up hope.

That's when I remembered that Windows XP comes with System Restore points. God bless you Bill Gates, you are a saint! After a quick restore to the last checkpoint before I had the problems with my connection I found myself back online and downloading porn faster than the speed of sound. Seriously, the porn stars are moving quicker than their moans and groans are heard. Wow!

So, anyway, it's good to be back where I belong. I apologize to anybody who was trying to get in touch with me and could not because of the aforementioned computer problems.

The Roar, since you are naturally asking, was a success. There was so much great poetry to take in and it was difficult to get around to see all the poets whose work I wanted to hear. There was a shitload of poets performing all over the place. My contribution to the whole festival went by quickly and was, by and large, rendered invisible, and rightfully so, by a finale show jam-packed with talent. Sheri-D Wilson was stellar. Ma Fletcher was unforgettable. Mike Gravel was transcendent. Francis Wiley? Well, he was beyond any words that I could possibly use to describe what he did behind the mic. Wow.

I promise, though, that I will post the poem that I performed for the large audience that was on hand at the finale. It's nothing spectacular, but on a less ethereal evening it might have been remembered by somebody.