The world has the potential to knock you pretty flat.
I have an adverse reaction whenever I spy a Frontier service vehicle. This is a general thing and not a specific one. The local men and women who operate those trucks have my respect. It’s nice to talk shop, they can carry on an intelligent conversation and I can reminisce of the “good old days”. The foundation for my statement lies in customer service.
There was a service vehicle parked alongside the junction box across the street, kitty-corner from the house. Not sure just how lengthy the stop might have been, but it was long enough. I hope that whatever the fix, it helped my neighbor because as soon as the truck rolled off I was the one in a fix. A few resets of the router proved contrary to eliciting any pleasant vibrations from passable internet connectivity. The Girls can’t hand in assignments without it.
My evening prayer included a plea for the connection to be resurrected with the morning light. I went to sleep in faith that the miracle would occur. It was only after a peaceful rest that everything was dashed. The LED globe on my router was not just red but out (we want to see blue; an indication all is well). After networking 800+ computers for that neighboring county, I might have learned one or two things: so I used them both. Prayers are half the story, getting off one’s knees and going to work is the other.
I pinged my router. The simplest explanation, picture using a couple of tin cans connected by a string to yell at it and it hollerin’ back. This is good because it tells us they’re working together. On to tracert (told you I’d use them both). Here we are adding additional stringed cans to our picture, there can be a lot of them, as we get to see where we want to end. My router would have to pass my message on to the next guy. Remember the telephone game? The starting message is always different from the ending one. Mine didn’t even have the opportunity to go on to the next, I was completely cut off from the rest of the world.
I despise using Frontier’s customer service number. I did call in good faith and succeeded in keeping to good manners. One time, I asked the individual on the other end of the line where they were from. After multiple iterations of the question, we finally were on the same page. The answer being it was against company policy to admit.
I started out waiting for the next available representative for a quarter of an hour. It took five minutes to jump through their verification hoops before I finally heard, “How can I help you today?” Scheduling a technician to reconnect me to the internet was the simple solution and so when I heard that please reset your router (I hinted to all this above); well, I managed to hold it together. Twenty minutes later the call had to be escalated. Fifteen minutes after that, I was transferred to make an appointment to have a technician come out (my desire almost an hour ago); the first available time being in two days.
The “good old days!” This particular one would be the last century when something called “DSL” was becoming available everywhere else but Colusa County. This outfit was leasing lines from the telephone company to provide it. There was a gob of people making this happen, but the individual who stood out most was the one that called my newfangled cell phone to ask why my connection was down. I would turn it off when I wasn’t using it. I want to be that person and when I slip, you have my permission to let me know! I’ll rise and dust off. Godspeed. §