It’s okay, things will be fine… TAKE A DEEP 20-SECOND BREATH, and heave—ahhhh!!! And then, think of all the good stuff and things there were before we all willingly—albeit entrancingly—severed our umbilical cord from life and living’s pristineness. Those days of yore when smoke signals were text messages, drumming or banjo pickings were ringtones, roosters’ sweet barkings were digital alarm clocks, and human yells across hills or over picket fences were Blackberry calls… Those days when social networking was a rollickin’ banter at Mr Robinson’s barber shop or at a basketball court in the `hood or at the Saturday evening benefit dance at the town plaza. Yes, things will be fine—hold that scream and drink Diet Mountain Dew. This is not the end of the world.
 There is a place called PUBLIC LIBRARY, you know that? Do you have a lib card? Yes, I know—most likely, you’d be queued with grizzly-bearded, homeless looking AA denizens, and you’re only allowed an hour per usage of public computers, and—okay now, there’s no porno surfing or YoVille games here… But this would also usher you around shelves and shelves of good books to read. Browse around, check out newspapers, Sports Illustrated, Atlantic Monthly, or Utne Reader—these are awesome reads, you know what I’m sayin’? You may even love the place! And totally quit the Net. You know what I’m saying?
 DANCE a chicken dance, run around your `hood a-la Rocky or Manny Pacquiao, with Bill Conti’s “Gonna Fly Now” on your headgear—sweat it out. You can do it… While running, say this mantra: “My internet will be back soon, will be back soon, will be back soon, will be back soon, will be back soon, will be back soon, will be back soon, will be back soon…” If that doesn’t work—uhh, well. Recheck your last cable bill or account statement. Maybe you haven’t paid yet obligations yet? Figure it out.
 What’s the point with staring at your laptop’s lifeless black and blue screen—when it’s not reacting at all? Do something. COOK! A lot of foul Friday night moods, hormonal imbalance, or just plain bitchiness are cured by an awesome, super-delicious dinner. So don’t sulk over a Facebook password that has been “compromised” (aka hacked) or an iPhone that isn’t part of mom’s monthly budget streamlining program anymore. Whip out that wok and attack the kitchen!
 MEDITATE… Close your eyes, slide to a lotus or crane posture – or praying mantis or brooding pterodactyl position, whatever fits you—and say: “Jai guru deva om… baba nam kevalam… praise The Lord, hallelujah!” Whatever suits you. Better be, go to church, temple, or kirtan convergence—and feel the communal vibe, the enlightening wavelength, crush all your hedonistic/self-aggrandizing paradigms with the immaculate sentience of life and love’s ethereal bliss, whatever rocks you, my friend. Voila! When you open your eyes, you may as well be a new lump of glorious atomic chakra. You may just say, in a super-low, meek and ahimsaic voice: “Ahh, what do you mean, laptop? Facebook, Twitter? I don’t see them in my plane of being… I am The One in me, the universal entity… jai guru deva om. Where is my hummus dinner?”
 Sweet, glorious animals—especially BABEDAWGS and KOOLCATS—are awesome companions, especially when you’re about to crack up by virtue of your stunning internet withdrawal. Unlike human beings, babedawgs/koolcats don’t really bark back at you when you start bitchin’ and cussin’ and all that messed up state of (in)sanity. They just stare back at you and may even interpret your bizarre actuations as an invite to play catch ball or frisbee. After awhile, you’d probably tell yourself: “Ah, look at these animals. They don’t need an email address or Facebook account to live or enjoy life, they are cool… I wish I am a babedawg myself… woof!”
 Engage in a CONVERSATION with any sensible/sensitive human. This, of course, is a temporary solution that applies only to those who don’t have health insurance for a shrink appointment or don’t have babedawgs and koolcats to chat with… A conversation may turn out to be really creative and productive, and maybe—just maybe—your conversation partner may be able to loan you a few bucks so you could finally pay your cable connect… right?