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Now I need a place to hide away . . .

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Yesterday

Yesterday,
All my troubles started yesterday,
And it seemed they’d never go away,
Oh, I was grieving, yesterday.

Predictably,
Tech support could not understand me;
Wanted to drown myself in the sea;
Oh, yesterday passed painfully.

Why my modem died, I don’t know, but anyway,
Its replacement came, I installed it yesterday.

Yesterday,
My hair turned consid’rably more gray,
And my ragged nerves began to fray,
Oh, I aged ten years yesterday.

Why my modem died, I don’t know, but anyway,
Its replacement came, I installed it yesterday.

Yesterday,
Longing for a long forgotten day,
When typewriters were the normal way,
Pens and pencils, yesterday.

Less lyrically, yesterday:

My modem had become increasingly unreliable, so I replaced both it and the old wireless router with a single unit router/modem. The first phase of the operation went like this:

1. Hook up router
2. Insert disc, run setup wizard
3. “Router not responding . . . all cables connected . . . disable firewall and anti-virus programs and run wizard again.”
4. Disable firewall and anti-virus, run wizard again
5. “Router not responding . . .”
6. Check connections again
7. “Router not responding . . .”
8. Check connections again
9. Make sure firewall and anti-virus are really disabled
10. Run setup wizard again
11. “Router not responding . . .”
12. Mentally bang head on desk until bloody
13. Call ISP support
14. “What? You didn’t buy your new router from us? You idiot! We can’t help you!

So I call support number on the new router box.

“Thank you for calling. Press 1 for help with something entirely unrelated to anything you’ve ever heard of. Press 2 for information on our nifty new line of interwebinators. Press 3 if you’d like an autographed 8x10 glossy of our CEO. Press 4 if you’d like fries with that. . . . . . . . . . Press 9 if you’re convinced your only hope is a miracle from heaven.”

I press 9.

“Thank you for calling. Your call is very important to us, which is while you will now be put on hold. Please wait while we play twenty minutes of music that no one could possibly enjoy. . . . . . . . . . Thank you for calling my name is Sgjyevlpojugfr my technician number is 7525 9912 3654 5635 8743 3952 1964 6321 4532 how may I help you?”

I explain my problem.

“What is your name?”
“David Kjos. That’s K-J-O-S.”
“A-J-O-F?”
“No, K-J-O-S.”
“K-K-O-N?”
“K---J---O---S.”
“A-A-O-X?”
“S-M-I-T-H.”
“K-J-O-S?”
“Right.”
“It is alright I call you by your first name?”
“Sure.”
“How may I help you?”

I explained my problem again.

“Did your router come with a setup disc?”
“Yes.”
“If please you would insert disc.”
“It’s already in. as I explained, I’ve run it three times already, and the message says . . .”
“Oh, the disc is already inserted? Very good, you will please now begin setup.”
“[sigh]”

I run the setup again, with — surprise! — the same result, which I report to my new friend.

“We will configure manually, then. Open an Internet Explorer window. Type in the address bar ---.--.--”
“OK, done.”

I am guided through four pages of settings, all of which are already correct (according to my support pal). Page five:

“You will need to set the multiplexing method, VPI, and VCI to the correct settings.”
“OK.”
“Have you completed the settings?”
“What?”
“Have you filled in the correct settings?”
“What are they?”
“You will have to get that information from your ISP.”
“So — I have to hang up, call them, and then call back . . .”
“That is correct.”

I imagine flinging myself from a very high cliff. I do as instructed, call my ISP, sit on hold, get the information, and call the support number again.

“Thank you for calling. Press 1 for . . .” Minutes fly by like hours, and I am connected to another unpronounceable support person, with whom I go through the manual configuration steps from the beginning, fill in the final information, only to find that . . .

Nothing works.

“Still no connection,” I say.
“Then you will have to call your ISP and have them check your line.”
“What? You’re saying it’s my phone line?”
“That is correct.”
“Great. Thanks.”
“Have a pleasant day.”

I hang up the phone — the phone that runs on the same incoming line as my internet connection — and weep bitterly.

Then, pulling myself together, I proceed to solve my problem in the time-honored tradition of many who have gone before me. I go through the configuration settings, none of which mean anything to me, randomly changing one here, another there. I click “apply,” cross my fingers, and open Firefox.

I believe in miracles.

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