I Take Back Most Things I've Said about Cable
Saturday morning and the cable modem craps out. I hook up the Blackberry to my laptop and pull over into the truck lane of the Information Highway.
Where I live, AT&T continues to mail me offers for cheap DSL when they know very well they can't provide the experience in my area. You have to be close to the CO (that's phone company speak for "central office") to get DSL. I think they use Mapquest or something to see if you're close enough.
I was, they said. One second phone line, a box of phone company gear and two weeks later, turns out I wasn't.
To the rescue came Adelphia, who was later swallowed up by Comcast like a unattended Crispy Crme at a charity event. Now for $45/months, I get high speed cable.
Until this morning. Comcast has on-line "chat" tech support. I'm not sure how you're supposed to use it if your high-speed connection isn't working ("Hello, McFly!"). But most people are resourceful I guess. If I didn't have my Blackberry, I could drive around the neighborhood with my laptop looking for a wireless router named "default."
Anyway, I connect to the online chat support because the alternative of calling an 800 number on a Saturday is too strangely repulsive to consider.
Within seconds, my "Analyst" Dominque has connected. In a few minutes, she tries pinging the lights-are-on-but-nobody's-home cable modem and fails. She said they would have to schedule a repair.
Schedule a repair? Couldn't I just drive over the cable company office and pick up a new modem, I whine? A joke about Soviet era Russia pops into my head, except this time the man isn't buying a car and being told it will be ready in ten years. No this time, he's waiting for the cable guy.
"Mornink or Afternoon?" says the customer.
"What's difference" says the perplexed salesman.
"Plumber come mornink!"
Anyway, Comcast will be here tomorrow, a Sunday no less, between 11am and 2pm. I'm going to end this blog while there is still the appearance of a happy ending.