There, I said it. I’ve become a Macstumbler. I lurk around the undisclosed location, opening my laptop outside office buildings, looking furtively for a signal. At the moment, I’m sitting in the lobby of a hotel I’m not registered in. Fortunately, it’s happy hour and if asked, I’ll buy a drink. It’s the least I can do.

Here’s what I’ve found:

Starbucks must turn something off after closing time, because the Starbucks hot spots I’ve found cannot be accessed after business hours, even when you’re standing right outside the window, holding your laptop as though it were a religious object, trying to find a signal.

The coffee shop across the street, being attached to a non-profit artists’ co-op, is much looser. The other day I snuck over around 11 p.m., stole onto the deck where the outdoor seating is, held my laptop close to my chest (that big white apple on the backside must say “steal me” to someone) and … e-mailed. It was a feeling simultaneously furtive and thrilling.

An older man in Harry Caray glasses just approached me and said, “It just amazes me to see this,” in a strong southern accent. “On airplanes, all over the world.” And he didn’t even know I was blogging. I’m sure he’d have had a heart attack.

As it was, I’m just operating a notebook-sized communication device that can post drivel to the internet and do my taxes.

I am doing fine. I am online intermittently. I am learning to talk with my mouth open wider. And even though Jon Carroll is on vacation, I am very glad they ran this Carroll Classic, one of my absolute faves.

See you soon.