Our bridge problems never end.

The Lowry Avenue bridge may close permanently, since it apparently has the structural integrity of cotton candy in a hot shower. It'll cost $100 mil to replace.

Or we could just get cars over the Mississippi via large slingshots, or a trebuchet.

The Bryant Avenue footbridge over the Minnehaha Creek was closed this week due to "possible future problems relating to gravity," to paraphrase the official findings.

I went to the creek to examine the bridge's condition, and I'll say this: If there's one word I don't want used to describe the steel in a pedestrian bridge poised high over a gorge, it's "translucent."

In recent sci-fi movies like "I Am Legend," the Authorities seal off contaminated cities by shooting missiles at the bridges; from the sound of things here, they could just isolate Minneapolis by shouting "TIMBER!" and tossing a few cement blocks on the decks.

No, it's not that bad. But it is reassuring to have a bridge-failure story that's not due to rotten metal or excess stress, and that was the case in Stillwater. The lift bridge got stuck on Wednesday. It went up and it did not come down. They tried talking it down -- we understand, it's hard, having to touch Wisconsin all day and get Cheetos dust all over your girders, but we can help!

Didn't work.

The problem: computer malfunction. You might be thinking that they had installed Windows Vista on the computers, but if that was the case the bridge would have come down, albeit very slowly. No, it was just a computer glitch, and if you've tried to fix inexplicable code blurts on your PC, you can only imagine the conversation around the monitors that morning:

"Uh, boss? It says I performed an illegal action and the program shut down. Why would it be illegal to lower the bridge? Did Wisconsin secede or something?"

"Hmm, let me see that ... looks like the program's hung. Well, use Manual Override."

"He's on vacation, sir."

"Alright, well, did you get a lot of Viagra e-mails today? Because that would explain why it won't -- oh, fine, I'll call tech support."

The manager finds the number for tech support, calls, and endures the interminable menu with the resigned, despairing expression of the damned queuing for entrance to Hell:

"Welcome, and thank you for calling HoistSolutions, a global leader in the field of putting things up in the air and bringing them down eventually. Your call is very important to us, which is why it is being routed half a world away to a call center that also handles tech support for steam irons and Easy Bake ovens.

"Our menu has changed, so pay attention to the following options. Push 1 if your bridge will not go up; push 2 if your bridge will not come down; push 3 if it is going up and down and the video is already on YouTube; push 4 to learn about our version 2.01 software that addresses minor stability issues with the previous version; push 5 to hear our official position on the international class action suit regarding version 2.0. Push 6 if you do not believe the menu has changed at all.

"Your call may be recorded and listened to later in the break room to general amusement."

BEEP

"You have entered 2. If your bridge has people on it, press 1, and you will be transferred to a travel agent who will help you leave the country. If your bridge is empty, press 2 --"

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

"You have entered 2222. This is not a valid entry. Please calm down, hang up and try again."

Eventually I'm sure they found the original disk, installed the program, tried to find the dang manual -- it had the serial number -- and got the bridge down. Problem solved.

But it's a grim preview of what we'll face when Northwest and Delta try to integrate their disparate systems next year.

Planes stuck at 30,000 feet, immobile, going nowhere.

jlileks@startribune.com • 612-673-7858 More daily at buzz.mn