I complained, I fumed, I threw a tantrum. There were other things I needed to do--namely, grade twenty-some portfolio projects--but I wasn't ready to knock those out yet. I wanted to check the Blackhawks score, I wanted to post another commercial on the goat blog, I wanted to check the daily stats for the goat blog: I wanted to do anything other than grading, and I needed the internet to do that.
So I called Comcast to see what was up, and an automated message told me that they were experiencing technical difficulties, "Please call later." Really!?! That's all you've got? No, "We're aware of a problem, and we're working to fix it," some sort of reassurance that help is on the way? Basically, they we're telling us we were on our own.
Moments like these make me realize how dependent I am on the internet, a realization that doesn't occur until I don't have internet access at a time when I absolutely want it. It's like when you forget your cellphone at home and feel as if you've gone off the grid. Then I begin to wonder how we ever survived without some of our modern technological conveniences.
Here's one way: in Junior High, when my sisters and I needed rides home from school, we'd call my mom collect from a pay phone. When the automated operator would pause, allowing us to state our name, we would quickly tell my mom to pick us up and at which entrance. That way she wouldn't have to accept the charges, and she'd know where to come get us. Did not always work. Especially those times she wasn't able to pick us up and we had hung up prematurely.
After I came to terms with the fact that there'd be no solution any time soon, that I'd have to wait it out, I started grading projects at the dining room table. Kate popped in a movie and I asked her to turn it up so I could listen. Five projects in, I ditched out on grading and joined her. It had been about four hours since the internet went kaput, and Kate decided to give her computer another shot. What do know? she was able to get online from her computer. It would take me another ten to fifteen minutes to be so lucky; the signal was too weak to say the internet was back in full force.
When we verified that it had returned at full strength, Kate and I became glued to our respective screens, the movie still playing in the background. That's when I came across this article. The Strib didn't identify the outage's cause, but it did provide tips on how to reconfigure your browser settings--a helpful little tip for remaining connected through outages, so long as your not currently experiencing an outage. Anger levels began to rise.
This morning I was expecting to open my email and find an explanation for the outage, or at least an apology from Comcast for the inconvenience. No dice. The only article I could find today was this one, and it still doesn't offer an explanation. It does, however, throw a few jabs at Comast. Kinda nice.
What pisses me off is that there's no accountability for Comcast's poor service. What if I were teaching an online course--which very well could be the case next semester when I start at Rasmussen--and this happened? There's no way to be sure that it won't with this shoddy company. And my options here are pretty limited because Comcast has a monopoly in Minneapolis. Don't believe me? Check out the city's website.
At one point this morning, I imagined being interviewed on a late night talk show and that I used this platform simply for the purposes of decrying the atrocity of Comcast's "services." Since that won't happen any time soon--though I swear if I'm fortunate enough to ever be a guest on a talk show, I'll blast Comcast--all I can do is add to the complaints on Comcast's customer service line and look in to the public wi-fi option, here. Maybe I'll look into getting some rabbit ears for the TV.
Comcast, if you're listening, I'd like to dedicate this song to you:
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