Why must there be a morning after?
That was the original title of the song we now know by a different name.
It debuted in The Poseidon Adventure (sung by one woman and lip-synched by another) and then, when they realized they had a hit and decided to release it as a single, it was covered by a secretary and part-time folk singer who had never recorded anything before.
And I wouldn’t have known any of that except for there being a morning after my laptop marathon.
In the old days, five years ago, the software and cable to transfer files from one computer to another were included in the package when you bought a new computer. Not no more.
So forth I go to my local office-supply store to buy the software and presumed cable, pictured online in a box, only to discover that it’s a download-only format. No cable. No box. So back I go and order the software, confident that I will soon be transferring files.
Not so fast. The “shipping” date for this download is the next day.
Now, I have no idea why it takes a day for a national office-supply chain to send me a link for software when I can get a download link for anything else in less time than it takes to say so. But so it is. There being no choice, I settle down to wait.
The morning after, I check my inbox and there it is: My email with the download link. Hurray!
Not so fast. The email, yes, but the link, no. Sigh.
For what seems like the 17th time in two days, I dial a customer-service [sic] number.
As I wait on hold, my call being very important to them, I realize that it’s a good question: *Why* must there be a morning after?
I don’t know, but it appears there’s got to be.