Our AT&T DSL service still doesn't work. Shocking, I know.
So today I had to call AGAIN to tell them that although I haven't called in a week, it doesn't mean my Internet is working for more than three continuous minutes at a time. So "Shawn" from the great state of India and I had a chat.
Shawn: How are things with you today with you ma'am?
Me: Frustrating with your internet service but otherwise fine.
Shawn: Wonderful to hear ma'am. I am sorry to hear of your frustrations but I assure you, you are in wonderful hands and I will fix your problem.
Me: Um, wonderful.
Shawn: Well, I'd like to run some tests. Can you please unplug your modem?
Shawn: Wonderful, wonderful. Hmm, ok. Is your modem located on the carpet?
Me: Look, Shawn. I appreciate the fact you have a process for each call, but I have called no less than 10 times in a month and my modem is not on carpet, it is not filtered with a phone line, it does not have green lights, it is not interfering with a burglar alarm, and no, restarting my computer does not fix this two-month problem.
Shawn: Haha, wonderful. However, I do have to go through these questions. Is your modem on carpet?
10 minutes of tests later.
Shawn: Well, I will send a technician out. I have escalated the problem and we will send a line maintenance worker to your residence. What days and times are you available?
Me: Today, tomorrow or this weekend. We both work next week all day.
Shawn: Wonderful. Ok, how about 12 p.m. - 4 p.m. Monday?
Me: That does not sound like you are escalating my problem, Shawn.
Shawn: OK, how about noon tomorrow?
Me: Wonderful, Shawn. Just wonderful.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Somebody Get Jack! (Why LOST is not the best show ever)
We’re almost done with the second season of Lost. I admit it’s quite addicting but I also get eye strain from the need to roll them so much.
1. Punching, poison and torture. There is so much of it. Why the reactive behavior? Those who don’t punch, shoot. There is heroin addiction, prisoner torture, kidnapping, intentional poisoning, cutting off fingers and legs. This is grossly out of proportion for 40 people, even stranded on an island.
2. Black smoke monster. I don’t even know what to say about this. It’s ridiculous and completely unbelievable. I do not appreciate any part of this show that involves magic.
3. Jack the doctor. This man has it rough. The punching, poisoning, torturing, kidnapping, shooting, spearing, chopping off body parts. They all end with “SOMEBODY GET JACK.” Luckily he’s the most emotional strong, intelligent, medically proficient, and brave person on the island. Just once, I’d like Jack to get shot in the stomach and see someone else step up and drain their own blood into his veins using a hollow twig while simultaneously pulling the bullet from his intestines with their teeth.
4. Weak dialogue. SO dramatic. This is no Aaron Sorkin script. “There is a man. A man in the hatch. I beat him. I beat him badly.” Why are you talking in short, short sentences, Zahed? Why does your story end with …” dramatic pause….and you were strung by your neck and left for dead.” Why are your pupils always so dilated?
5. Inquisition. Or lack thereof. No one on this island is curious. Someone gets shot, and is bleeding profusely from the neck on a journey to the black rock, which you’ll note is not a rock at all.
Supposed normal person: “What happened?! You are bleeding profusely from a major artery!”
Profusely bleeding person: “Everything will be fine now.”
Supposed normal person: “OK, cool.”
Trek through jungle continues as normal.
6. Music. To keep with the theme of totally unnecessary drama, plunging musical chords strike with every vague comment, capture or discovery of a missing door/hatch/medical lab/stupid countdown clock.
7. Back stories. Again, how could all 40 people have such dramatic stories? A mediocre rock star with a drug addiction. A torturer straight from Iraq. A man with a mysteriously cured paralysis. A magic 10-year-old. A mother with an ominous fortune reading. A petite murderer/arsonist. A heroin-smuggling priest. A morbidly obese lottery winner.
I will keep watching because I do not have cable. But I hate this ridiculous show more every day, and I hope that 108 minutes pass without notice and the whole island blows itself up.
2. Black smoke monster. I don’t even know what to say about this. It’s ridiculous and completely unbelievable. I do not appreciate any part of this show that involves magic.
3. Jack the doctor. This man has it rough. The punching, poisoning, torturing, kidnapping, shooting, spearing, chopping off body parts. They all end with “SOMEBODY GET JACK.” Luckily he’s the most emotional strong, intelligent, medically proficient, and brave person on the island. Just once, I’d like Jack to get shot in the stomach and see someone else step up and drain their own blood into his veins using a hollow twig while simultaneously pulling the bullet from his intestines with their teeth.
4. Weak dialogue. SO dramatic. This is no Aaron Sorkin script. “There is a man. A man in the hatch. I beat him. I beat him badly.” Why are you talking in short, short sentences, Zahed? Why does your story end with …” dramatic pause….and you were strung by your neck and left for dead.” Why are your pupils always so dilated?
5. Inquisition. Or lack thereof. No one on this island is curious. Someone gets shot, and is bleeding profusely from the neck on a journey to the black rock, which you’ll note is not a rock at all.
Supposed normal person: “What happened?! You are bleeding profusely from a major artery!”
Profusely bleeding person: “Everything will be fine now.”
Supposed normal person: “OK, cool.”
Trek through jungle continues as normal.
6. Music. To keep with the theme of totally unnecessary drama, plunging musical chords strike with every vague comment, capture or discovery of a missing door/hatch/medical lab/stupid countdown clock.
7. Back stories. Again, how could all 40 people have such dramatic stories? A mediocre rock star with a drug addiction. A torturer straight from Iraq. A man with a mysteriously cured paralysis. A magic 10-year-old. A mother with an ominous fortune reading. A petite murderer/arsonist. A heroin-smuggling priest. A morbidly obese lottery winner.
I will keep watching because I do not have cable. But I hate this ridiculous show more every day, and I hope that 108 minutes pass without notice and the whole island blows itself up.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Disconnected and powerless
Our Internet hasn't worked since we moved to KC. Thank you, AT&T. This left me with the options of frantically signing into my email when the DSL light turned green only to check one or two messages before that dreaded red light of death appeared. Or, I had to sit in the lobby where I had to work while pretending to listen to Eleanor's daily mail reading or the man who always greets me with "Good morning" no matter what time it is.
However, the Internet frustration was skillfully trumped when our universal AC adapter died. After less than a year of ownership. The original HP power adapter died after less than six months of ownership.
So even if I did have Internet, I don't have a working computer.
There is rage. In my soul.
However, the Internet frustration was skillfully trumped when our universal AC adapter died. After less than a year of ownership. The original HP power adapter died after less than six months of ownership.
So even if I did have Internet, I don't have a working computer.
There is rage. In my soul.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Racial profiling and street justice
There is a serial rapist in the Waldo area of Kansas City. A predominantly White, middle class neighborhood and perhaps not the first place you’d expect to see a crime spree.
The victims have been forced into their own homes or come home to find the man waiting for them. Scary stuff. Rape is one of women’s biggest fears. I think about it when I am walking to my car alone. When I am home alone. When a creepy guy in a bar looks at me and I coincidentally see him later in the night. So I can’t imagine the way these five women’s lives have been changed forever. My heart breaks for them.
But my heart also breaks as I read the stories of how some are responding. You see, the suspect is a Black man. A Black man in a very White neighborhood. So in addition to taking self defense classes, and double checking the locks on their doors, people are taking matters into their own hands – reporting their Black neighbors as possible suspects even though they bear no resemblance to the sketch. Some men have been followed as they go about their daily activities. They get double and triple looks when they run out to buy milk on the way home from work. The police have to follow up on tips in case one is correct. But I know if the suspect was a White male, the vigilante behavior wouldn’t exist.
We live in a very diverse area where for the first time ever, I might be in the racial minority. However, despite the numbers, my Whiteness still protects me. It’s a history of privilege and wealth. The inherent “safety” my race is given over traditional non-White groups. So even though I am in the minority, I still possess the inherent power I never earned. And part of that privilege means that when a white woman commits a crime, I don’t get any second looks because I fit the profile.
I don’t think the answer is to stop reporting suspects for fear of racial profiling if they truly are suspect. I don’t think the answer is for police not to stop following up on the tips for fear of hurting someone’s feelings. It’s a much deeper solution. I don’t know how to get us there, but the end solution means I don’t get any inherent privilege, power or safety just because my skin is white. And a Black man can live wherever he wants and not live in fear of his neighbor’s second glances.
The victims have been forced into their own homes or come home to find the man waiting for them. Scary stuff. Rape is one of women’s biggest fears. I think about it when I am walking to my car alone. When I am home alone. When a creepy guy in a bar looks at me and I coincidentally see him later in the night. So I can’t imagine the way these five women’s lives have been changed forever. My heart breaks for them.
But my heart also breaks as I read the stories of how some are responding. You see, the suspect is a Black man. A Black man in a very White neighborhood. So in addition to taking self defense classes, and double checking the locks on their doors, people are taking matters into their own hands – reporting their Black neighbors as possible suspects even though they bear no resemblance to the sketch. Some men have been followed as they go about their daily activities. They get double and triple looks when they run out to buy milk on the way home from work. The police have to follow up on tips in case one is correct. But I know if the suspect was a White male, the vigilante behavior wouldn’t exist.
We live in a very diverse area where for the first time ever, I might be in the racial minority. However, despite the numbers, my Whiteness still protects me. It’s a history of privilege and wealth. The inherent “safety” my race is given over traditional non-White groups. So even though I am in the minority, I still possess the inherent power I never earned. And part of that privilege means that when a white woman commits a crime, I don’t get any second looks because I fit the profile.
I don’t think the answer is to stop reporting suspects for fear of racial profiling if they truly are suspect. I don’t think the answer is for police not to stop following up on the tips for fear of hurting someone’s feelings. It’s a much deeper solution. I don’t know how to get us there, but the end solution means I don’t get any inherent privilege, power or safety just because my skin is white. And a Black man can live wherever he wants and not live in fear of his neighbor’s second glances.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
A black sock in my path
I did my laundry yesterday and found this:
A black, toddler (or large-footed baby) sock. I specifically checked the washer and dryer for leftover items. Yet, there sat the offending sock in my laundry basket.
Either it's a sign of things to come or there is a bite-sized neighbor running around with chilly toes.
A black, toddler (or large-footed baby) sock. I specifically checked the washer and dryer for leftover items. Yet, there sat the offending sock in my laundry basket.
Either it's a sign of things to come or there is a bite-sized neighbor running around with chilly toes.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
My friend Eleanor
I have a friend Eleanor. She’s our next door neighbor, and she likes to frequently read me her mail. Whenever I sit in the lobby to get Internet that actually works for more than five seconds, we have long, long chats.
She reads the Bible and Guidepost magazine. She prays for Shea and I. She asked us to pray that she controls her habit of swearing. Especially at the pharmacy when they don’t have her prescriptions ready. And pray for her, I did.
She bakes even though she’s trying to lose weight so she gives cookies away to her neighbors. Supposedly she’s baking Saturday so we’ll get to taste the fruits of her labor.
Eleanor had her purse snatched a few months ago while shopping at a nearby mall. The teenager who grabbed her purse pulled the muscle on the side of her body. Now she rides her exercise bike twice a day to keep it loose. She had to take a bus to the court house the other day to give a victim’s statement.
She is fascinated that my hair is dark, and my eyes are blue. She calls me her beautiful new friend. She comments that she thinks my shoes are cute, failing to notice I am wearing snowmen pajama pants and Shea’s baggy sweatshirt at 1 p.m.
Even though we’ve probably only talked a handful of times, Eleanor always leaves me with a hug, a kiss on the forehead and an “I love you very much, Sarah.”
She reads the Bible and Guidepost magazine. She prays for Shea and I. She asked us to pray that she controls her habit of swearing. Especially at the pharmacy when they don’t have her prescriptions ready. And pray for her, I did.
She bakes even though she’s trying to lose weight so she gives cookies away to her neighbors. Supposedly she’s baking Saturday so we’ll get to taste the fruits of her labor.
Eleanor had her purse snatched a few months ago while shopping at a nearby mall. The teenager who grabbed her purse pulled the muscle on the side of her body. Now she rides her exercise bike twice a day to keep it loose. She had to take a bus to the court house the other day to give a victim’s statement.
She is fascinated that my hair is dark, and my eyes are blue. She calls me her beautiful new friend. She comments that she thinks my shoes are cute, failing to notice I am wearing snowmen pajama pants and Shea’s baggy sweatshirt at 1 p.m.
Even though we’ve probably only talked a handful of times, Eleanor always leaves me with a hug, a kiss on the forehead and an “I love you very much, Sarah.”
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Beyond customer satisfaction
AT&T DSL and I do not get along. We’ve called over a dozen times in the last three weeks, had a tech come out and take our wall apart and downgraded our service. We have been told we just need to turn our modem off and on, we need a new modem, nothing is wrong, we need another new modem, our security alarm is blocking the DSL signal, the modem needs to be on a hard surface, we are too far away from the DSL box so we need to downgrade our service, and well, it says it's working!
Events of today:
10 a.m. Call our technican’s cell phone and tell him that although I downgraded our service, the Internet works for no longer than three minutes at a time. He tells me to call AT&T and downgrade one more speed level.
11:15 a.m. I call AT&T. She tells me that the downgrade was just completed 20 minutes ago. So, I should wait a little bit to see if it gets better. If not to call back before 5 p.m. and they will put the order in to downgrade it another speed. Fine.
2 p.m. I call AT&T again because I can’t even get more than an email to load before it blanks out again. Using Instant Netflix not even an option. DSL light is red every other minute.
Customer service man: Well, the downgrade you requested yesterday is still pending.
Me: I called someone at 11 a.m. who told me it was completed 20 minutes ago.
CSM: Well, I am sorry if you that is what you understood from your previous call, but we guarantee the change will be completed by 8 p.m. However, right now it is still pending.
Me: Why would she tell me it was completed 20 mins ago. That seems kind of specific for someone that's lying.
CSM: I don’t know who you talked to but I am sorry, it is still pending. Is there anything else I can do to make sure you are a satisfied customer?
Me: Um. No. That’s pretty much impossible.
CSM: Well, ma’am. Thank you for being an AT&T customer! We are delighted to have your business!
Events of today:
10 a.m. Call our technican’s cell phone and tell him that although I downgraded our service, the Internet works for no longer than three minutes at a time. He tells me to call AT&T and downgrade one more speed level.
11:15 a.m. I call AT&T. She tells me that the downgrade was just completed 20 minutes ago. So, I should wait a little bit to see if it gets better. If not to call back before 5 p.m. and they will put the order in to downgrade it another speed. Fine.
2 p.m. I call AT&T again because I can’t even get more than an email to load before it blanks out again. Using Instant Netflix not even an option. DSL light is red every other minute.
Customer service man: Well, the downgrade you requested yesterday is still pending.
Me: I called someone at 11 a.m. who told me it was completed 20 minutes ago.
CSM: Well, I am sorry if you that is what you understood from your previous call, but we guarantee the change will be completed by 8 p.m. However, right now it is still pending.
Me: Why would she tell me it was completed 20 mins ago. That seems kind of specific for someone that's lying.
CSM: I don’t know who you talked to but I am sorry, it is still pending. Is there anything else I can do to make sure you are a satisfied customer?
Me: Um. No. That’s pretty much impossible.
CSM: Well, ma’am. Thank you for being an AT&T customer! We are delighted to have your business!
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