Damaged at a tender age by the advent of computer technology I have always had an absolute dread of new “electronic” items.
I was a young lad at the very moment things like video players burst onto the screen at a time when connecting your television to any device or setting up new channels was like staring into hell.
I would always be the one to be asked to set up the TV (“You are young and must know what to do”) and sat for hours watching different coloured bands of light drifting across the snowy surface of the screen in the hope that it somehow would find the stations. My grandfather had a penchant for buying the most “up to date” devices, which were also the most difficult to use, and then expect me to instantly understand it all. Does anyone recall the video player that came with it’s own bar code scanner that allowed you to pre-programme the machine by swiping the bar code in the television guide? AAAAAAARGH!
Hence the dead, sick feeling I still get any time a new “device” enters the house.
You can imagine the joy I felt on Friday evening when we suddenly realised that the internet had died.
We don’t think we killed it, but something gave out that night and we had to spend an entire evening finding something else to do.
My smug self of 10 years ago would have sneered at the tragic addict I am today.
I thought I would do a little research on some recent antique buys…no internet
I thought I would write a post for French Friday…no internet
Look up prices for wall panelling (I must and shall have a French boudoir!)…no internet
Plan my trip to France…no internet
Watch dumb people falling over on youtube…no internet
I was forced to go to bed early in disgust.
I woke with the withdrawal symptoms getting rapidly worse. The children were wandering about the house bereft. The red light of “no internet” continued.
I tried to contact the phone company. Fifty minutes of abominable music and I could stand it no longer. I hung up the phone and restrung the clothes line.
One of my children was so traumatised he went away and thoroughly cleaned his room. Another emptied the bins without being asked.
My nearest and dearest returned to bed (claiming a cold) but I knew better. She had given up on life.
I tried the phone again. Another hour later and nothing. In this time I did all the dishes, degreased the stove range hood, cleaned all the panes in the kitchen cabinets and rearranged the loungeroom.
Third time lucky and after another hour I got through. After a delightful conversation with a rather nice chappy from India it was determined that my line was indeed dead and that a technician was required to fix it…likely to be there sometime on Tuesday.
Thankfully I then had to then leave to get a haircut and to view some priceless artworks on offer by an intriguing person on Gumtree.
Get a haircut?
Acquire priceless artworks?
Shock my children with my bad language?
More shall be revealed tomorrow.