Saturday, January 25, 2014

Good News

I'm out of the wi-fi rabbit hole.

I returned the recalcitrant printer and for a few bucks more replaced it with one that works well with my laptop. Proving once again that cheap is cheap.

My first order of printing was to go back to the article that triggered my descent into what for me is internet hell. Yes, I printed via wi-fi a 2005 article from the New York Times that I no longer need.

The satisfaction was perverse, but satisfaction nevertheless.

Speaking of perverse, how's this for perversity: I just finished reading today's New York Times on the web and then went into the kitchen to wash the newsprint from my hands. Yikes!

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Stymied

I started blogging two years ago with the idea that technology is Wonderland and I'm Alice. I've tried to understand it and even adopted some of its trappings, but I still feel I'm down the rabbit hole, as it were.

Bear with me, please. In view of all the controversy over NSA eavesdropping, I thought it might be a good idea for the government to out-source the job to those call centers used by virtually all major businesses. You know, the one's who tell you how important your call is and that it may be monitored for quality and training purposes.

Believe it or not, someone listens to those calls and decides whether to respond to them. I found this out by Googling the subject and came across a well-documented article in the New York Times in 2005. Disappointed that someone beat me to the story by nine years, nevertheless I wanted to print it for future reference. But my printer broke down.

I was so frustrated by not being able to print this article I neglected blogging. Why did I care? I'm uncomfortable with words flying through the air with no place to land. They belong on paper. So they can be referenced (and maybe even leaked?).

Anyway, I installed a new printer and now my laptop can't find the Wi-Fi connection. So I'm down the rabbit hole again.

But back to out-sourcing. I've been on the phone any number of times lately with technical services, phone companies, banks and whatever, and they all assure me that my call is important to them before putting me on hold so I can listen to their awful time-filling music.

Once I actually told someone I hoped my call was being recorded because I wanted the company to know how infuriating it was trying to reach a real person who actually could help me.

If you're still with me I want you to know how important your readership is to me. If you need individual attention you can reach me at marvfriedman@verizon.net.

Your email will be monitored for quality and training purposes.