Pierre and I get to spend an unexpected weekend at our lake 'shack'. I am excited to relax, play my latest iPod additions and do a little blogging. Fat chance!
My iPod throws up a full screen of some hieroglyphics that not even a Martian could decipher and then settles into a bold black line across the top of the screen. That's it, just a black line that no matter how I tried to dislodge it, refuses to budge. Goodbye cool new tunes - the one CD in the CD player of Christmas anthems hardly sets the mood I had intended for our romantic weekend at the lake.
But, of course, I could dial in and check out my mail, write a blog or two. Fat chance! No mater how hard I try, and try I did, the Earthlink server rejects me. There was no sneaking by. Now what? I have no way of logging in to find a number to call Earthlink to sort this out. As usual, a situation this dire requires a call to our friend Paul, tech guru supreme, who, as usual, answers immediately, makes appropriately concerned noises and gives me the toll free number to Earthlink - which, by the way, is well hidden in the bowels of some out of the way site.
Oh joy. I get to call tech support. I am still resetting all of the passwords wiped out by my last call to tech support . Sean - yeah, sure - answers and over the course of an hour he issues a series of instructions designed it appears more to keep me thinking something is being done to solve my problem than actually resolving anything - sort of reminds me of security screenings at airports. When the server continues its stubborn rejection, Sean 'guaranteed' - yep, that was his exact word, that if I called back in 25 minutes, the server would be waiting for me with open arms (do servers have arms?) and we could kiss and make up and go back to living the way we always had.
It appears that Sean was way too confident. Or, maybe I was way too naive when I hung with great hope of success down the line. Nothing, nothing. At this point Pierre is beginning to get edgy and I suddenly realize that he had only limited hours left before he has to finalize his Fantasy Football lineup. Wow, maybe if I had mentioned that to Sean he might have tried harder. Although maybe Fantasy Football is not that big in Bangalore?
Another call to Earthlink. Another Sean who tells me that even though Sean 1 had told me my account was perfect, there is a major imperfection. My account has been downgraded to only allow me to read email remotely and not to have access to the Internet. Why that happened is not readily apparent? "Well," I say, thinking I can maybe find some interesting email to read to Pierre that could momentarily distract him from climbing the wall regarding his lack of access to his Fantasy team, "How do I download my email." "Let me refer you to this website to learn how to do that." says Sean 2. I am momentarily speechless. Wasn't that the point of the last 2 hours that I have wasted - to get on a website?
Divine intervention occurs. My husband who relies on my limited technical skills reaches such a level of desperation that he becomes Supertech, complete with pocket protector. Whips out his PC, fires it up, and figures out some other planet way of connecting to the Internet that could never be recreated in the next 100 years.
And then divine retribution occurs. As soon as I log on to my computer the next day when I am back in the land of wireless networks, there is an email from Earthlink asking me to rate my call with Sean! Of course, if Earthlink actually read their feedback, then maybe it was divine retribution.
So much for technology on the road. Next time I am bringing a stack of magazines and a pack of playing cards.
And now I am off to the Apple Store to figure out why the replacement iPod they gave me behaves worse that the one I traded for!
Gillian Parrillo
The Sacramento Executive