Sometimes You Feel Like a Nut

Sometimes you feel like a nut (click here when you are done reading), other times you just feel like a stupid moronic idiot. Is that redundant hyperbole? Here is the scoop, Sunday, the Internet slowed to a crawl. It was so slow, I was wishing for a 56K dial up to speed it up. Remembering what the cable company has told me in the past, I followed the steps.

1. Unplug the cord going to the cable box, wait 10 minutes
2. Unplug the cord going into the electric outlet, wait 10 minutes.
3. Reboot the computer. 
4. Done
5. Done 
6. Done

Great, now the lights on the cable box are lit up at all. It died. Its little lights were flickering so faintly in nonsensical patterns. Maybe it was Morse code for SOS. I used to know Morse code back in my Cub and Boy Scout days, but that was too many decades ago to retrieve the information from. I should have paid it more attention. I should have realized something was wrong. Now is not the time to should all over myself. It is too late for should haves. 


It was new just July 2010. What is the lifespan of a cable box? Did we use it to death? Are we cable box murders? Will there be a special place in Hell for people like us? Maybe a room filled with the latest forms of technology, but there are no wall outlets and all of the batteries are dead. The nightmares started immediately, even as I was on the phone calling the cable company, the early symptoms of withdrawal were apparent. My mouse finger started twitching uncontrollably like it was clicking on Internet links that weren't there. Suddenly, I had thoughts of 57 different things I had to check on the Internet, before the slap of reality hit me hard once again. No Internet for you. 


Amazingly, the cable people answered within minutes and on a Sunday too. The person spoke excellent English. She ran me through the list of things, but I told her she was speaking to a veteran. I had done it all twice or more, but there is no life left. She ran diagnostics from her end. She could not detect any life either. She was sending out a technician. On Monday. Only between 1:30 and 4:30 pm. I was so grateful, I was almost close to tears. What the hell were we supposed to do until then? 


I can't share the time spent until the technician arrived. It is too painful a memory to rehash in my own mind, let alone on a public forum. When the doorbell rang at 1:40 pm on Monday, you would have thought I caught Santa Claus in the act; I was beyond ecstatic. He walked in full of confidence, but without any English. Sheepishly, I led him to the scene of the dead cable box and then left the room. I couldn't watch. 


Fifteen minutes I ventured back into the living room to see what progress had been made. He was like a Hawaiian surfing dude, covering the Internet like he was riding a big gun and sailing through the barrel of those waves. When I walked in, he calmly picked up the cable box, which I had thought he must have replaced. After flipping it over, he pointed to something and said...




Switch, on - off! If the earth would only open up and swallow us at times like these...

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