Faster

As you may recall, dear readers, the first stop on my Westward Ho trip was sunny Palm Springs.  I have been going there since 1970 and I love that place.

(And if you’re in the mood for some “Fun In The Sun” P.S. nostalgia, read this.)

And it was was glorious. The weather!  All I did during the day was chillax by the pool. And it was heavenly.

Here I am lounging at beautiful La Quinta’s wonderful pool.  (This is how I like to remember myself now that I’m back home in gloomy weather.  Dolce far niente.)

After a whirlwind of a wedding weekend, (ICYMI See The Wedding To End ‘Em All) Kenny, Mary Lu and I headed up to Los Angeles.  We have kids up there, and we wanted to drop by and say “hi.”

It was great catching up with my son and daughter-in-law.  They acted genuinely pleased to see me, and they were hospitality itself.

But a funny thing happened to me at Nick and Missy’s house.

My devices went crazy.  In a good way.  Like a VERY good way.  My iPhone went nuts- opening everything at the speed of light.

What the heck was that?  At home, I always have trouble with sloooww Internet speed. Especially at night.  Sometimes some apps refused to open at all.

When I got back to Chicago, Nick just happened to call me.  I cut right to the chase.

“Thanks for the great time out in LA, honey.  But I’ve got to ask you a question.  What was up with your Internet?  That was so cool!  I’ve never had connections that fast.  What was that?”

Nick laughed.

“That’s my business, Dude. (Nick makes apps for your mobile device.)  I have the highest speed you can get.  But you can get a better speed, too.  Who’s your provider?”

“Comcast.”

“They’re pretty good.  Call them and find out how much it would cost you to upgrade.”

And so I did.

I got a nice gal who assured me that for only ten dollars more a month, I too, could achieve Rapid Internet Nirvana.

“What’s involved here if I make the upgrade?” I asked suspiciously.  “Is it a big deal to switch over?  Do I need a service call or a new modem or something?  Can I do the install myself?  I live on the Internet, and if anything goes wrong, I’m toast.”

“No, it’s simple,” she reassured me.  “You just have to unplug your modem for a minute, let it reboot, and then the new, higher speed signal comes through.”

“That’s it?  I don’t believe it,” I scoffed.

“That’s all there is to it.  I’ve already made the changes to your account.  You will be charged ten dollars more a month, and after we hang up, go ahead and unplug your modem.  Thanks for using Comcast today.”

And she hung up.

I went into my office and stared at my modem.  It was blinking happily in all the right places. And now I was going to have to dick** with it.

** High-tech term meaning “adjust.”

To say that I was terrified is not an overstatement.  EVERYTHING I care about involves the Internet one way or another, and without it- even for an hour or so- and I would be up the creek without a bitmap.

Here was my modem before my surgical intervention.

Uh oh.  We had been so happy, that modem and I.

And now I was heartlessly ordered to cut off its life support.  But the thought of that lightning speed Internet at Nick’s house gave my courage.  I reached over to its power cord… and yanked.

I waited that minute (before my tormented eyes visions of never getting on or opening my email again tortuously danced before me) and then I plugged it in.

Whew. Everything lit up and looked okay, but I still had to perform the acid test.  I went over to my computer, saw I had a signal and tried to get on.

Nothing.

I tried it again.

Same result.

I checked my two iPads and my iPhone.

Zilch.

Sometimes it just kills me to be right.

I redialed Comcast and went right to the voice prompt for “tech issues.”

And then Fate intervened.

Of all the tech people in all the world, the gods of blogging hooked me up with Alex- the nicest, most conscientious, most persistent South Texas gal in the whole Comcast universe.

I knew I had a winner when I heard her sweet drawl and I poured my heart out to her.

“OMG! Alex!  You’ve got to help me save my son’s marriage.  He lives in LA, and has the fastest Internet I have ever had, and I swear I will move in with him if I can’t get it here at my house.  And then his wife will divorce him because she doesn’t want his bee-yatch of a mother moving in with them.  You have to help me get it to work.  For their sake!” I pleaded.

“Now, Mrs. Ross, don’t you worry.  I am going to stay with you until your issue is resolved,” she said soothingly.  “I will get it up and running for you, I promise.  Now let’s try unplugging the modem from the power source and unscrewing the cable.  And may I have the serial number off the modem, please?”

I read her the serial number.  Not too hard because, by now, I was cradling my sick modem in my lap.  I detached and attached at her command, and together we held our collective breath and…

Nothing.

Over the next half hour or so, she assiduously checked every possible would-be problem. And every time she put me on hold, I would have a panic attack.

“Come back, come back, don’t leave me like this!” I’d (involuntarily) cry out.

“Mrs. Ross, I assure you that I will come back.  I’m only putting you on a temporary hold while I consult with Ray, our technician.  He’s going to be trying a few things out, and I swear I will come back to you.  Do you understand me?  I will come back.  I’m only going to place you on a short hold.”

“Do you swear it?”

“I do.  Now just don’t you worry.”

And off Alex would go.

But she always came back.

At long last…

“Miss Ellen, (we were on a first name basis, by now.  Like two G.I.s in a fox hole, we had bonded through my warfare against no ‘Net.) I seem to have located the problem.  It may have originated in the billing department with your change order number.  But now that’s all taken care of.

Now I’m going to have Ray send you two signals.  The first will be our higher “Blast” signal, and the second will be our upgraded “Black” speed.  Try them both out, and let me know which one you prefer.  Although I must tell you that the “Blast” is forty-six dollars more a month.”

“I’m ready when you are, Alex.  Let him fire at will.”

And Ray sent me a blast of Blast that knocked my socks off.

OOH. It was orgasmic.  It was heroin.  I wanted it.  Bad.

But then Ray sent me the upgraded speed that I had originally signed up for- and that was pretty good, too.

Better than my old horse and buggy speed- and ten dollars a month more versus forty-six.

“Well, have you made a decision, Miss Ellen?” asked Alex solicitously.

“I loved that NASA Blast but…I’m going to go with the ten dollar one.  Maybe someday, when I’m in the chips, I’ll spring for it. But for now, the “Black” speed will be just fine.”

“Alright, Miss Ellen, I’m going to let Ray get back to his other customers now.  I think you are all set.  Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

“No, Alex, you made my day.  And you saved my son’s marriage.  My daughter-in-law will be eternally grateful to you.  As am I,” I said wholeheartedly.

We hung up.  And when Comcast called me back thirty minutes later for a customer satisfaction survey, this is exactly what I said:

“Please make Alex, a gal from a small town near San Antonio, Texas, the next president of Comcast.  She deserves it.

And by the way, can I adopt Ray?”