One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Finally, my friend Debra will get her way: For years she has implored me to stop watching TV, and now I'll have to, at least for the better part of this week. Seems our cable provider has "upgraded" our service by the addition of a digital converter box that has to be connected to the TV in order for us to get a signal.

The box arrived several weeks ago and has been an obstacle in the kitchen, the dining room, the living room and the entrance hall, moved from place to place by either me or my husband, who promised he would connect it as soon as he got that very necessary "round to-it." Of course he never did, and now he's in Chicago for the next three days. Fortunately our dear friend Ira was visiting and he hooked it up in short order, assuring me that all was working fine as he pulled out of the driveway and headed home to Manhattan.

Yada, yada, yada--the TV now does not work at all. I called Comcast, the cable company, and spoke with a succession of robots until I finally qualified for a human. She spoke with an incomprehensible accent and was virtually useless, but who knows-- she might have been helpful if I had understood her.  At the end of our attempted conversation she said I could expect a follow-up phone call about her performance and she hoped I would give her very high marks. I said, "But you have not helped me one bit," to which she replied, "Thank you very much and have a wonderful day."

Now a repairman for something that worked perfectly until they made me break it is scheduled for Thursday between 11am and 5pm. It's all part of that upgraded service, I guess.