I'm Too Stupid For My Smart Phone

This is the first ever pic I took with my first ever smart phone.

Not bad. I was waiting for takeout at the Chinese restaurant when I took this shot.

I was trying to check my voice mail when I took this shot.

Imagine how good it would have come out if I was trying to take a photo.

I got the phone in December as a gift to myself. During Hurricane Sandy it became very clear that the first ever digital phone that I got at Radio Shack a million years ago was sick and tired.

How wonderful it would be to have a phone that was smart.

Nobody likes a wise-ass.

Maybe it's my fat fingers. Maybe it's my fat head.
I can't seem to hit the right buttons. I can't see all the tiny thingies. I don't know what all the icons mean.

Forget about the tree falling in the forest when no one is there.

Can you undo the thing you didn't know you were doing?

Can You Read Me Now?

My long connectivity nightmare is over.

After days of turn on/turn off, check connection, check plug, my back is on fire.
Why are plugs and outlets and connections always behind heavy furniture that only dust bunnies can reach?

After days of “for quality purposes your call may be recorded” and “the estimated wait time for speaking with a technician is 20 minutes to never”, I figured out the problem on my own.

Not before I spoke to Peter and Gary and Roger and Sean. Together we pinged and dinged and donged their schlongs. They were impatient and humorless. Peter was especially abrupt and I asked if I could please speak to Sanjay back in India; he was smart and funny and polite. Peter was not amused.

I assume he has a degree from MIT and this is all he can find in this economy. Tough shit Peter; learn to be grateful

At some point last weekend my McAfee anti-virus software sent out an automatic update that merged and mushed and mingled with signals from Curiosity on Mars to create a perfect storm of un-connectedness.
I discovered this by having this odd feeling that my firewall might be an issue; it has been in the past. So I started hunting around the internet tubes to look for firewall flaming facts. Using the Atari style desktop made the journey so convenient.

Eventually I put together a scenario that could explain my problems. I found a virtual technician (better than a blow-up sex doll) and together VT and I solved my problems.

And it only took a week!

Now of course the phone pole outside is still leaning and my land line still has unbearable static but that could be because Homeland Security broke the pole when they were installing the wiretaps. So each time I hear the static as I try to find a dial tone I say hi to Chris Christie (my big fat douchebag of a governor) or to the horror of a human who runs around my town putting up Obama as Hitler posters.

Bless their hearts.

I am so glad (and grateful Peter!) to be back. I’ll catch up.

I leave you with this …

Jon Stewart says this photo finally explains to him the Obama that the Republicans see.

Thanks Clint, You Made My Day

Send Some Happy

My son has been working the past few Saturdays and that doesn't sit well with Hope. She wants her morning cartoon time with him and eating Cheerios without Daddy just isn't the same.

One of the few benefits of all this endless instant technology is that it allows Daddy to stay in touch. Yesterday he sent these two photos to Mom's phone so Hope could see that he was busy working to help the most important of "people"

Hope was thrilled

In reality my son got caught up in some promo on the streets of NYC while trying to get lunch. He told me the hoots he was getting for posing with Elmo were worth it for Hope.

Hope's Saturday fun continued when she went to her cousin's bowling party.

I love how she celebrates
The photo immediately made its way to Daddy at work with the message "I made the bowling ball move!"

Send someone something happy today.

Steve Jobs

I don't know much about Apple. I don't own an iAnything and I'm a PC, not a MAC.

Yet I appreciate how important he was to the way we all connect and use technology.

Hope loves her iPad and enjoys sharing what she learns with Pop-Pau

She'll grab it and tell you "I'm working with my apps"

This morning's news covered some comments made by the people who use the many things Steve created ...

"My son uses a device Steve Jobs created to help him talk. He'll never know"

"He took technology and made it beautiful"

and simply - seen on Twitter ...

"iSad"

notes left on the window of a San Francisco Apple store

 

at the 5th Avenue store in NYC

I spoke to a friend in San Francisco last night who worked for Steve Jobs and she said that she'll be looking to the clouds to see "all the new and interesting formations"

Peaceful Journey Steve

How Impatient Am I?

I've spent the morning paying a few bills over the phone. So think of that - no going out, no post office. Just pick up the phone and pay the bill.

And yet that annoys me.

First of all account numbers are too damn long. My gas company assigns 12 character account numbers BUT when you're asked to enter your account number they specifically ask for the first 11 characters. I keep forgetting that there's 12 so I have to count in to 11 and by then the robot voice is telling me I'm going to be terminated.

Then there's all the repetition. It's bad enough that the robot voice speaks so slowly I begin to go into a coma of boredom and frustration but then she needs to repeat everything to confirm.

There should be a menu option - "If you're not a fucking idiot, please press 9"

and another ...

"If you are capable of pressing numbers on a touch tone phone please tell us now"

or maybe ...

"If, after having a checking account for all your sorry life, you KNOW where your routing and account numbers are please press 6 and we won't spend 4 minutes explaining your own check to you"

And don't even get me started on the voice activated menus!! I tend to curse between ridiculous instructions and wind up getting "I'm sorry I don't recognize that request" which of course puts me back at the start line and then I really start cursing.

It's a vicious cycle.

What? Why don't I just write a check and go to the post office you ask?

Well - funny thing. While recovering from the flu/plague/brain tumor that has haunted me since Christmas I began to get a really bad case of cabin fever.

So ...

I decided to get out for a bit. My driveway is on an incline - most likely because it's built on a toxic dump or a burial ground for evil witches - and I thought I saw black top but it was really black ice and so I slid halfway down the driveway before finally landing on my side.

Thankfully the base of the telephone pole broke my fall. Otherwise I might have landed in a soft snow pile and what fun would that be.

I am black and blue and purple all over. I look a bit like a cross of Barney and Ronald McDonald with a touch of Elephant Man thrown in.

I'm not an animal ...

Wired To Fail

Technology is killing me.

Add to that the fact that apparently NJ is a freakin' third world nation that can't keep electrical power going.

Yes - I have bitched about this before.

We have had more power outages than usual the past few weeks. Once I think someone spit somewhere and NJ thought it was raining. Then there are the drunks running into conduit boxes and poles.

The standard line around here if power goes out on a Friday or Saturday night is "Must be closing time at Fridays"

My server and router and thingie and do-hickey are all wired in the basement. It is a lovely rats nest of wires and clamps and plugs. The more important a connection is the deeper it is buried.

Amidst all this chaos is the power surge protector and battery back-up. It's the black box next to the other black box behind the larger black box. It connects everything to electrical power through a series of tubes - just like the way the Internet runs.

Lately the black box goes berserk when power is restored. It emits a high piercing shriek and the system shuts down. Do not ask me why but the only way to fix this is to pull out all the connections, shut down the main switch, walk around it three times chanting and then sprinkle pixie dust.

Long ago I gave up questioning why things were done the way they were and I stopped challenging so called experts. If I hadn't I'd be in prison right now. Or dead from that last nerve I'm living on finally snapping.

Computer guy blames electrician #2.
Electrician #2 blames Electrician #1.
Electrician #1 has not been heard from since I threw him out of the house screaming "I'll fucking kill you. I'll kill you so hard that the next 5 generations of your whole fucking family will die"

Trust me - he deserved it. On a good day he was only 3 hours late and slightly drunk. He didn't see any problem with the range hood causing the outdoor lights to go out.

Today the security system guy decided to join the cast of this long running farce.

The battery in the main box needed to be replaced. Period. Just that. Only that.

Since I can't run up and down the stairs like I used to I had to leave him down there alone for a few minutes while I signed for UPS packages.

That's when the high piercing shrieking began.

I throw myself down the stairs muttering "WTF" to find alarm person fussing with computer cables.

Why?
Because they were there
Because he thinks he's an expert
Because he has a penis

"I can't get this to stop shrieking" he says. "Do you have official pixie dust?" I ask.

I would have shut down the system but it had already crashed. That was a time saver.

I pulled all the plugs and told him to replace the battery. He tried to tell me the electrical supply for the box was in the wrong place but he took one look at my face and backed away slowly. The electrical supply for the security system box has always been there, has never had a problem. If he wants to put his own personal mark of creativity on something he should paint or sculpt. Otherwise - replace the battery and leave before your future generations are in peril.

Once he left I crawled around the rats nest and reconnected everything. Then I booted the system, redid the FIOS nonsense, reset the Internet crap and had a cocktail.

It's windy tonight so there's a good chance the power will go out.

Hope I have enough pixie dust.

btw - I turned comments off on the slice of cake post - I just wanted to say thanks and didn't want people to feel they had to thank me for the thanks.

Tell Me How You Love Craig ...

and of course Hope is amazing, thank you very much.

Every time I embed a Youtube video - SEE POST BELOW - comments appear and disappear. At different times for different people.

Kind of like Followers and Mr. Linky appear to be doing

After all the Internet is nothing more than "a series of tubes"

and we all know how tubes can get twisted and clogged

FIOS is coming! FIOS is coming! Oops there it went ...

Have you ever wanted to rip a live, beating heart out of someone’s chest and mail it to their mother?

Or perhaps do a Bobbitt!? She only cut off the tip. I’m imagining pulling out the entire package with garden shears – and again, mail it to their mother.

I used to think ‘Bush has won (stolen) another term’ was the ultimate phrase to send me into a black and purple rage but …

FIOS will be wonderful

is a contender.

For the past 48 hours I have run up and down stairs – basement to top floor, stop off in kitchen, back down to basement, up to top floor.

Tech #1 wants to know where I want the box. What fucking box!? Don’t I need to know which box you’re referring to?

Tech #2 starts stapling shit to my siding. Why isn’t that under the overlap? I ask calmly. I am respectful, jovial even. Oh – I guess I should do that he tells me. Awesome!

Tech #1 is now bellowing from the closet. He wants to know if there’s an outlet he can use. Uh – yeah. How about sticking your equipment into that funny little hole right under the electrical box – oh and feel free to plug in the test box as well.

Official looking guy that I demanded show up shows up. Whoop-Dee-Fucking-Do! Guy is a living, breathing pocket protector on legs. He tells me he is aware that I’m “upset”. NO WAY buddy. I am 52 fucking years old and I have heard every patronizing pile of putrid puss that every asshole with a hardhat could ever throw my way. If I was a man you’d be backing way the fuck up from me right now and calling teams of teamsters to come here and re-build my house. I am NOT upset.

I am enraged. Period. Simple. Now fix it.

I don’t want to hear that the salespeople wrote the order wrong. Then they called it in to someone who took it and kinda, sorta entered it the way they were given it. Except for all the places where they changed it.

Do NOT explain to me that the technicians can only do the installation they were ordered to do. What the fuck!? You only follow orders!! Gee didn’t we fight a war to stop a crazy guy with a bad mustache from using that. You certainly shouldn’t tell me I can’t have what I ordered AFTER you turn off my phones, rip open walls, staple shit to my siding and destroy my Internet connection – oh yeah – and all the time repeatedly crashing my server.

You don’t know what a server is!? But you install Internet connections. Fabulous.

The purple glow emanating from my very being causes everyone to scatter to their respective corners and attempt to implement their particular specialty. Wonderful. Laptops are being whipped open. Cell phones are a buzz. Supervisors are calling managers. NJ is talking to Virginia and Virginia will call right back, soon as they check with Des Moines. Wow – with all this communication going on I almost feel like I’m dealing with – now what would it be called? – oh yes! – a fucking communications company!! Yeah that’s the ticket.

Fast forward past endless inane conversation. Side step assholes trying to charm me – if you want to charm me then you better be George Clooney on his best day wearing a full head of Patrick Dempsey hair. I am not interested in how thrilled you are that I have calmed down. I was always calm. It’s not my problem that you can’t answer intelligent questions posed by an intimidating woman.

I don’t want to feel pretty. I have no desire to flirt. I’ll whip out my vibrator and beat you to death with it if you don’t stop. Stop immediately.

I want to communicate. With my clients!! I run a business. A business that’s small and struggling so I can’t treat my customers the way you can treat yours.

I know I said I was fast forwarding – sorry.

This morning I grabbed my coffee and my pages of notes and called the business office. On my ONE working number. As soon as I got the recording telling me how valuable I am I started screaming “Operator” at it. Repeatedly until the poor automated system shot itself in its head and gave me a person.

A person who couldn’t find a record of any of my phone numbers.

Who transfers me to the guy who says “I AM FIOS”. Wow, he’s FIOS. Cool. I’m Wonder Woman. Now what do we do?

I explain all my issues. I list all the things that don’t work. I suggest they send a new tech and a new supervisor. I list all the names of all the people who should absolutely NOT, under any circumstances, ever return to my home.

We work out a plan. He’ll call me back by 1.

At 2:30 I call.

I ask for the person who has all my info. I bite my tongue when they tell me they don’t know who I’m talking about. I gulp and breathe deep. I mourn the fact that I no longer drink to excess while smoking huge joints. Why did I think I should stop doing that?

I explain. Calmly. Quietly. I tell the story again. I say I’m calling the PSA. I’m e-mailing Lautenberg and Menendez. They’re actually impressed that I have the e-mail addresses and phone numbers of my senators. Actually I think they’re impressed that I know what a senator is.

I am told to rest assured. I’d rather rest with a working phone cradled to my ear. I’d rather rest by responding to clients. But OK – I’ll try resting assured. I am thrilled that I’m a valuable customer. Sure as hell hate to see how you treat the customers you don’t value!

At 3:30 my doorbell rings. A brand new technician is standing there. All fresh and eager to show me how valuable I am and to watch me as I rest assured.

After all …

FIOS will be wonderful.

So kids – I’m kinda functioning with spit and a prayer. More people are coming here tomorrow. The business office will be calling me first thing. Which means I’ll be calling them.

And on we go.

There is an earthquake in China. Soldiers in Burma could care less if babies starve to death. I have a wonderful life and I’m resting assured in the lap of luxury.

I know that. I have learned to remind myself of the places things belong in the bigger picture of life.

I am hoping to calm down my clients. I am hoping to get back to all the blogs I love. I am hoping to have 5 quiet moments with a working phone so I can call Aunt Pat and tell her how sorry I am that I didn’t/couldn’t reach her on Mom’s Day.

The sun (and FIOS) will come out tomorrow.

What Will They Think Of Next!?

My Mother used to say that all the time - about power windows in the car, a food processor, a radio with an alarm clock built in - oh the convenience and sheer brilliance of our scientific times!

Mom was a little out of touch with the times - she made me promise to "never shoot marijuana into your veins" - I have always kept that promise.

I guess so much happens so fast these days that, compared to Mom, I'm jaded. I'm never surprised at what "they" thought of - but I am usually shocked at how little they actually thought.

Among my plethora of gifts this past December (birthday and Christmas) were the high tech items - new phones for home and office, a digital photo frame, and a digital photo frame key-chain.

I'm not a gadget person, not a techie person - I prefer to use stuff til it doesn't work anymore - hence the need for phones everywhere - It's not that I'm grumpy or cheap like Andy Rooney - it's that I prefer to not over consume the planet into an early death. Think of all the earth's resources wasted on needless stuff - so that we can cut one second off our texting time or microwave while watching TV without ever leaving the Laz-E-Boy.

My tech gifts are useful - the old office phone had so few functions that it made joining a conference call a feat akin to walking on water. The home phone was so old that the talk button only responded every other time and the poor thing would just die from exhaustion if I rambled too long. And the digital photo stuff brings more joy to my photography.

Like a little kid I anticipated opening (and actually using) all my shiny new stuff - I'm an intelligent businesswoman - I read complicated proposals, create excellent excel files - how hard could everyday instruments be!?

If you can't open the freakin' packaging you have nowhere to go but downhill - into an abyss of frustration and sorrow. Perhaps I don't need a phone - I'll just e-mail everyone and if an emergency pops up I'll run out to the driveway and scream - might as well find a use for those nosy neighbors.

With the help of a box cutter and upper arm strength I didn't know I had I did open my goodies. My son took pity on me and installed the phones - now I just have to figure out why the blue light keeps shining - the 300 page "easy quick reference guide" says the light indicates an incoming call - but no one is there - maybe a being from another world is trying to reach me.

The digital photo frame takes the memory card from my camera and creates a lovely slideshow for all to see. Of course the photos on the memory card are unedited and the power cord for the frame is way to short. Do any of you have an outlet within 12 inches of the top shelf of your bookcase!? Now I need a memory stick and a cord extender (NOT the same as an extension cord!) - Buck up poor unsuspecting Staples associate - here I come!

The digital photo key chain came with software - just load and run and take your treasured photos with you wherever you go. Gaze at them while driving, show them to strangers in the parking lot - how lovely that the carjacker can comment on how thin I look at my son's wedding before he stuffs me in my trunk. I'm not too worried though - the software CD they provided is "corrupt" - and it didn't even come from Washington! and the "instant help" website is unreachable. Oh Oh Oh - and I can't unfold the instructions properly - they're set up like a map that has been converted into an origami project. I could take them in the car with me and wait til I'm lost on a dark deserted road.


So what were they thinking!? and next time - could they think a little longer.

OY!