Feeling Disconnected

This morning my world fell apart. I had no internet connection.

My connection was painfully slow last night and apparently gave up the ghost completely somewhere in the early hours before dawn. I had only a steaming cup of coffee to brace me for the devastating news - "the internet is down".

I made the call I have made many times before to technical support. The most interesting part of these calls is listening to the robo-operator as she promises to check your line for trouble and while doing so, encourages you to try checking their website for online help. The most frustrating part is that it does you no good to scream at the robo-operator about how ridiculous it is to tell someone with no connection to try getting help at the website. The robo-operator will just reply "I'm sorry, I didn't understand you".

Two hours into the call with technical support I still had no internet, but had assured the human operator that I hadn't got up in the middle of the night and made any adjustments or changes to my telephone jacks or satellite installation.

When I got off the line, it still wasn't working and they had to open a ticket - the resolution of which I would be informed. Soon after that, things started working again and I have yet to hear that they have resolved the problem.

I don't think technical support actually does anything, to tell you the truth. I think they tell you to go to plug in numbers and passwords, unplug this, reboot that, until the thing starts working again on its own anyway.

But there's something comforting about taking action and calling technical support. For one thing, it's someone at the company I can whine at while I am waiting for it all to start working again. I get to be slightly disdainful of their constant questions about whether or not the computer is plugged in, and explain to them that they shouldn't treat all customers as if they are idiots.

On second thought, it might be more fun to work it the other way. Maybe one day, just for fun, I will unplug everything and call technical support. Let's see how long it takes them to teach me how to turn the thing on.

Saved From Television

I don't watch TV anymore. It's a conscious choice now, but it started when my cable bill became too exorbitant to budget about three or four years ago and for the next two years we didn't have television in our house. The reception these days is so weak, an antenna provided nothing more than snow.

After the cable went off, I bought the first of what turned out to be a series of cheap DVD players and invested in movies and children's shows for the kids to watch. A membership in the local video store provided the newer films that we couldn't afford to buy. Besides, once the kids have watched a movie about 25 times or so, they lose interest. Of course, once they have watched it 25 times or so, you have lost brain cells. By the way, you don't get those back.

I noticed how well-behaved and engaged the children were when we visited relatives with cable. They would turn on Disney or Nickolodeon and sit transfixed before the flickering screen. Foolishly, I thought that if I relented and got them real television at home, it would have the same effect. So, in an effort to avail myself of an electronic babysitter, I got satellite TV with not just one Disney channel, but two! East coast and west coast so they could watch everything twice if they wanted to.

I never re-entered the world of television viewing myself. I kept up with all the news I needed on the net and threw myself into blogging - a brave new world. The internet had taken up all the slots in my prime-time.

As I traverse the blogosphere I find I don't actually need a TV to keep up with all the latest shows. There are entire blogs dedicated to sitcoms, reality shows and soap operas (although these are starting to lose popularity).

As for the kids, they tire of television easily now. My grand scheme to pay a monthly fee and secure a few moments of quiet for myself hasn't really panned out. These days, they would much rather play outside, ride scooters, run and scream and get deliciously dirty.

Sometimes, they make me proud.