New cable modem, back on line and blathering on. And on and on and on. And on…

So easy these days. Just take your old dysfunctional cable modem over to Com[insert-expletive-here], get a new one, plug it in and all’s well that ends well. No serial killers or anything. Except for when they email you a BILL a couple hours later! A New Customer kind of bill. $140 was it? I couldn’t hear the exact amount because the GG’s voice was drowned out by National Petroleum Radio.

New customers? Hmmm… I can’t even remember the exact year we first had service with Com[insert-expletive-here]. Was it 1999? Or was that when we first tried to get Com[insert-expletive-here] and they told us they didn’t service Apple computers[!] Or was it 2001? Whenever it was, I had My Loverly Strawberry iMac and an “older” guy came out with an installation disk and some other stuff and every time he put the disk into My Loverly Strawberry iMac, My Loverly Strawberry iMac would crash. So I would climb down under the computer and power off / power on. This action totally FREAKED OUT the “older” guy (older than me anyway). He seemed to think My Loverly Strawberry iMac would blow up or something. People, the only time in more years than I care to count in all the years I’ve been in the computer bizness that I ever saw a piece of computer equipment come even close to exploding was back in the 1980s or thereabouts. It was at That Darn EPA and one of our “terminals” puffed out a wee whiff of smoke. We unplugged it and the problem was solved.

Okay. A call to Com[insert-expletive-here] revealed that this was in fact our monthly bill. Yes, $140. We have cable TV too. I had to talk to the poor customer service rep to add the GG’s name to the bill (haven’t we done that before?) and I’m sure my irritation at her questions about my name and address was clear. Before I handed the phone back to the GG, I told her, “He’s much nicer than I am.” (I could hear her laughing as he took back the phone.)

This whole thing about having your name on the bill is new since about 2010 or so. The GG has always been the one to call Com[insert-expletive-here] because he *is* nicer (and also he is more knowledgeable about hubs and waaaars and things) and it seems like always before they handled things without asking me for a whole bunch of information. Before The Commander got sick, some sales snake from Charter (in the Yooperland) convinced her that she needed a new TV control box. The damn thing took something like SEVEN SECONDS to change from one channel to another. It was totally unusable. The GG went over to Charter with the damn box and asked them to change it back to whatever she had before. The Commander was waiting outside in the car. Charter said that they couldn’t do anything without permission from the person whose name was on the service. Well guess what? The person whose name was on the service was My Old Coot and by that time (2011), he had been dead for five years. Immediately and without questions, the Charter person made the change.

Ah well. We wanted to walk over to Zingerman’s Roadhouse tonight but it’s raining and there is LIGHTNING and I guess we will just drive instead. It is so beautiful here at The Landfill that I want to stay here but there isn’t any food so I guess we will go out.

Sayonara, KW

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