Monday my internet connections--Facebook, Explorer, Chrome--began to act weird. Sometimes they'd connect; other times they wouldn't. Finally, they just wouldn't. Called the TCU Help Desk, where they told me what I dreaded to hear: call your service provider. It was too early in the day for wine, so I refilled my coffee and called AT&T. Eventually, after three calls to the robot and three reboots of my modem, he referred me to a tech--a nice young man, with a heavy accent difficult for my aging years. He was soon clearly beyond his range of expertise--he kept saying, "Hmmm," which made me nervous. Several times he asked me to type something into the URL line, and I almost shouted, "You don't understand! I can't get a screen. I can't type anything in." Finally he concluded I needed a new modem, which would arrive the next day. I looked to it as the be-all, end-all savior of my problems. This was not the first time an AT&T tech has led me astray.
Not so. The modem arrived, and I asked neighbor Jay (you know, the good-looking one) to come install it because I knew it was beyond me. It was almost beyond him. What should have been a quick set-up took almost an hour at the end of which he concluded it wasn't the modem at all: Explorer needed to be re-installed. He did that and it was magic--the computer, which had been dreadfully slow for a new machine--speeded up, and I could get all my internet sights and connections.
You don't realize how much you rely on the internet until you start piling up emails that you can only deal with by going to the net. So here I am, a happy camper, with a functioning fast computer.
It hasn't been an easy road. About three weekends ago my younger son, Jamie, walked me through buying a new computer and got it started. Then he spent about three hours at my house getting it attached to everything. All in all, it took the better part of one of his weekend, which he treausres. But I was grateful and all set to go.
Not quite. The week I spent at my older son's house was one of fine tuning. Every night when he came home from work I presented him with computer problems and he, my most patient child, worked through them--how to attach pictures to blogs and Facebook and similar issues.
I hope now, with the help of three good men, I'm in for clear sailing on my computer. As for learning Word 8, don't ask!
But I'm blogging again, and that's good news--at least to me.
Not so. The modem arrived, and I asked neighbor Jay (you know, the good-looking one) to come install it because I knew it was beyond me. It was almost beyond him. What should have been a quick set-up took almost an hour at the end of which he concluded it wasn't the modem at all: Explorer needed to be re-installed. He did that and it was magic--the computer, which had been dreadfully slow for a new machine--speeded up, and I could get all my internet sights and connections.
You don't realize how much you rely on the internet until you start piling up emails that you can only deal with by going to the net. So here I am, a happy camper, with a functioning fast computer.
It hasn't been an easy road. About three weekends ago my younger son, Jamie, walked me through buying a new computer and got it started. Then he spent about three hours at my house getting it attached to everything. All in all, it took the better part of one of his weekend, which he treausres. But I was grateful and all set to go.
Not quite. The week I spent at my older son's house was one of fine tuning. Every night when he came home from work I presented him with computer problems and he, my most patient child, worked through them--how to attach pictures to blogs and Facebook and similar issues.
I hope now, with the help of three good men, I'm in for clear sailing on my computer. As for learning Word 8, don't ask!
But I'm blogging again, and that's good news--at least to me.
No comments:
Post a Comment