I know, we all have stories like this. So, I figure "why not share my latest"? As with all good tales... to the beginning we go, dear reader.
My Dad has a photography business (Timeless Images Photography - shameless plug), and when the digital photography age came upon him, he was forced to do more with his computers than email. His last two computers are XP machines: the older one (circa 2002) is what he uses for personal use, including email; the newer one was ordered at the dawn of Vista but he, like many other business professionals, chose to stick with XP. Obviously, it's the more robust of the two, and it's on this machine that he practices the digital tools of his trade. About a month ago, Dad contacted me concerning his older machine. It seems there was not enough memory to handle Outlook Express (I know, but he's familiar with it and he likes it, so don't judge). Telephone diagnosis on my part was a virus or malware. A visit to his house revealed he had at least received the annoying Antivirus Live malware, but we weren't yet sure he had actually been infected. A simple removal, a wait period of a few days, and my worst fears were confirmed. The problem came back, and the deeper diagnosis on the machine revealed a root kit. Before restoring the computer, however, I tried Combofix as I have had some success using this tool on several other occasions. I held my breath, turned blue, began breathing again, and a week later the problem returned. Last weekend I restored his old tried-n-true to its original configuration, complete with his beloved Outlook Express. He wasn't home at the time, and I did not have his email password, so I left the computer up at the password entry screen for the account and left instructions. Next day I read an email from him (from his newer computer) that he had no clue what the password was.... he hadn't needed to load it since we set up the newer computer, and that was in 2007. Thus endeth background info.
My Dad's email is with his ISP, which shall remain nameless.......let's just say it rhymes with Bomcast. Now, I've had dealings with this company before, specifically with password resets, so I didn't bother trying to talk Pop through this; I just got in my car and headed over for another visit. The online options initiated with the "forgot password?" link took me to a screen that informed me the request could not be handled by this utility and I need to chat with a tech-rep. I started Round One (chat) pretending to be my Dad to avoid any confusion on the other end. He has a business class account, complete with phone service, which I explained to Goombomba (that wasn't the name, but it was pretty damn close), and he resolved to help me quickly and efficiently, asking me to verify the account number, address, and pin for the phone. No sweat. Five minutes later, Goombomba shared with me his epiphany that this was a business class account, and unfortunately he could only help me with residential accounts. This helpful tech-rep gave me two phone numbers to call, presumable in case either of them was incorrect.
Round two. I started with the 866 number and got "Derrick" after punching the right numbers and listening to the phone switching from one State to the next, out of the country and back again. Derrick was happy to help me today, and said as much. I explained that I need to reset the email password, and that the chat tech-rep sent me here.... and explained why he sent me here. For verification purposes, Derrick requested full name, account name, and the last four SS digits... would I please wait while he brought up the account. Did I wish to reset the password for the email account timelessimages1? Nooo... the email is just timelessimages; there is no "1". "Hmm", he says (obviously, Derrick is a linguistic genius). "The business account only has one email address attached to it and it is timelessimages1. Could this email be attached to a residential account perhaps?" He was so polite. I was beginning to get suspicious. I explained that this had once been a residential account, but had been changed to business class, basically for the additional speed since photographs are an intense upload through FTP. Derrick checked, and sure enough the email was attached to the residential account we assumed no longer existed. Apparently, we assumed incorrectly. Derrick can't reset passwords for residential accounts; he only has access to business class, and would I mind waiting while he transferred me to the correct office? Like I'm gonna say I mind.
Several telephone switch sounds later... oddly familiar telephone switch sounds... enter "Brittany". I rewound my tape, replayed the situation to her, added the chapter starring Derrick, ending with "so Derrick sent me to you since he couldn't access a residential account from his department in business class". Brittany needed to verify the account and asked for full name, account number, and physical address... I was beginning to wonder if they just randomly asked for information that came to the top of their heads. Please wait while she brings up the account. Can you guess what Brittany told me? Yup... this appeared to be an email attached to a residential account and she worked in business class accounts. Would I mind waiting while she transferred me. "Brittany, I'll wait if you can guarantee me I will talk with someone in residential, since Derrick forwarded me to you claiming he was doing the same thing." Some apologetic words, and then agreement that she would try resetting the password from there...... no dice, she can't do it. She transferred me. Several telephone switch sounds later...... and the phone screamed at me. I had been disconnected.
Round Three. I dialed the 800 number this time, and was half-way through the telephone switch sounds when I decided to hang up and try chat again. Afterall, that was residential, apparently, which is what I wanted according to Derrick and Brittany. "Margaret Rose" was my new tech-rep now. She got the condensed version, and oddly enough, seemed to understand. She quickly found the email account, confirmed that yes, she could help me. She then requested account verification in the form of full name, physical address and last four digits of the account phone number. By this time a monkey could commit identity theft. We're down to the wire now... all she needs is the 4-digit secret pin. Thinking she was talking about the phone pin, I give this to her. "I'm sorry, but that number is incorrect". My response: "Well, darlin, your guess is as good as mine then. Is there something else we can do? I mean, if I had the means I'd give you a DNA sample to go along with all the other personal information I've given your company over the past 45 minutes if that will help" There was a significant pause in the chat at this point. When she did respond it was to inquire whether or not I was near the phone registered to the account, and could she please call me to verify. Brilliant. I waited.... 3 minutes... finally, the phone rings. I answered with "Hello Margaret Rose," to which I received confused silence... the voice said, "Mr. Derickson, this is Rachael from "Bomcast"... I am confirming that you are indeed in a chat session with Margaret Rose and will email her to go ahead and reset your password".
Unbefreakinlievable. All of that for an email password reset. I understand security and all, but I change my passwords all the time (well, she does, because she keeps forgetting them) and I've never seen anything like this. I have my Dad's email password saved in several places around my house now, just in case. Viva la Customer Service!
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
On Perspective
Sometimes, when I'm alone, my mind shuts off. I'm just enjoying the nothing, if that makes sense. Problem is, I have this ringing in my ears that will never stop (blame rock-n-roll, listening and performing), so once I notice it, the solitude disappears. I need to turn on the television or listen to music or an audiobook or a podcast or or or or... *sigh*.... until it dissipates into the background once more. Tonight is one such night, and the influence to my thoughts happens to be the movie Daredevil. I've seen it before as entertainment, but tonight I viewed it (peripherally) as a lesson in perspective. What we hear, smell and feel affects what we see and how we see it. No two people can view the same scene and come away with the exact same notion of what just occurred. As a matter of fact, if you check with law enforcement, you will find that exact eyewitness testimony from more than two or three people is cause for suspicion. Each person focuses on a different aspect of the situation as it occurs... each is hearing different aspects in the foreground as the distances vary, and each may detect the same odor which triggers vastly different memories, shaping the scene in a different manner. Each person will have different points of distraction, meaning each person's overall viewpoint of the situation has nuance unique to that person. It's what makes life interesting and flavorful, don't you think? How else can there be debate? How else can we determine the people we're compatible with vs. those with whom we'll never agree? How else will we learn and grow if we do not have the opportunity to learn from another's perspective?
On that note, I think I need to return to my book (novel, novella, or whatever the hell else it may become) and restructure the characters based on perspective. I think this may be what I've been waiting for. What have you put off doing, waiting for the right catalyst to push you onward?
On that note, I think I need to return to my book (novel, novella, or whatever the hell else it may become) and restructure the characters based on perspective. I think this may be what I've been waiting for. What have you put off doing, waiting for the right catalyst to push you onward?
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
PSA on LDS
This is a Public Service Announcement.
Do you find yourself flexing your steroid induced musculature when passing any reflection, regardless of how remote? Do you interject yourself into every conversation providing the "ultimate solution" based on your superior knowledge, awesome power and highly evolved intellectual prowess? Do you believe yourself capable of doing everything on your own, even when the task requires two or more people? Does your Significant Other often foster feelings of dissatisfaction and unrequited longing?
If you answered yes to the questions above, you may be suffering from LDS. LDS typically affects certain men between the ages of 17 and 105, and is unfortunately a lifetime malady. Sadly, those afflicted with this syndrome usually are not aware, unlike all those around them after 15 minutes or more in their presence.
Although there is no known cure for LDS, despite claims to the contrary on late-night infomercials, you can avoid embarrassing family members and friends around you in times of social gathers, by following a few simple steps:
Do you find yourself flexing your steroid induced musculature when passing any reflection, regardless of how remote? Do you interject yourself into every conversation providing the "ultimate solution" based on your superior knowledge, awesome power and highly evolved intellectual prowess? Do you believe yourself capable of doing everything on your own, even when the task requires two or more people? Does your Significant Other often foster feelings of dissatisfaction and unrequited longing?
If you answered yes to the questions above, you may be suffering from LDS. LDS typically affects certain men between the ages of 17 and 105, and is unfortunately a lifetime malady. Sadly, those afflicted with this syndrome usually are not aware, unlike all those around them after 15 minutes or more in their presence.
Although there is no known cure for LDS, despite claims to the contrary on late-night infomercials, you can avoid embarrassing family members and friends around you in times of social gathers, by following a few simple steps:
- Think before you speak
- Work through whether or not you really need to contribute to the conversation
- If you absolutely MUST speak, avoid words like "I, me, mine"
- Use pronouns such as "they, them, theirs, others"
- Resist the urge to lift the heaviest object in the room for no apparent reason
- Wear loser clothing.. it will give the appearance of bulk even where none exists
We don't guarantee this will completely hide the symptoms of LDS, but there is a slight chance some people will not notice, and this will ultimately widen the circle of people that can stand being around you for any significant period of time.
Remember, in your case... less is more.
This has been a Public Service Announcement
Sunday, June 6, 2010
A Book, a Beef, and a Bittersweet Memory
Have I ever mentioned that I'm writing a book? Technically, it's been in work for about 6 to 7 years now... practically, it's only been about 1 year. As you can tell by the blog, I find consistency and commitment a challenge when it comes to the written word. I should get back to work on it, though. Oddly enough, I feel a responsibility to the characters to finish their story even if the thing never sees the light of publishing day.
Speaking of inconsistency, I'm seeing a lot of news stories on the current oil crisis in the Gulf, the most useful and informative being on the Weather Channel of all places. OK, it's news. But think about this. Back when the Haiti crisis was in full bloom and you couldn't walk into a convenience store, surf to a website, or type a text message without being reminded from every direction that you have an opportunity (and an implied obligation) to donate to the relief efforts, a friend of mine said to watch the next major ecological crisis in this country and note the lack-luster response overall. She was right. Now don't get me wrong, there are a few sites and organizations that are beginning to offer proceeds of sales to help in relief efforts for the Gulf, but I'm not being bombarded at every turn. While the government regulators and BP point fingers at each other and stare, the Gulf Coast is bracing for some major ecological and economic clean-up. Don't see the benefit concerts... don't see the "text for donation" popping up.... don't see the ex-Presidents rushing to organize charity relief. Nice, huh? Guess the Gulf Coast doesn't offer enough prime real estate for a tropical getaway when all is said and done. I'm amazed.
I also find myself missing the common sense one-liners that used to come from my Grandmother.... she had a way of putting things in concise sentences that pretty much closed the matter for discussion. I've actually been thinking about her most of the day.... the old one-room schoolhouse that my grandfather and his brother converted to a home (she outlived that house), the way she loved to sit outside and just be, enjoying the sunshine, the breeze and the familiar salt air I always take for granted until I've taken a trip inland. It just occurred to me why I'm thinking so much about her -- tomorrow would have been her birthday. She would have been 95... or 94... we were never sure exactly what year she was born since my great-grandfather kinda kept that to himself. Happy Birthday, Grandma... I'm sure you're happier where you are than you would be here these days.
Peace
Speaking of inconsistency, I'm seeing a lot of news stories on the current oil crisis in the Gulf, the most useful and informative being on the Weather Channel of all places. OK, it's news. But think about this. Back when the Haiti crisis was in full bloom and you couldn't walk into a convenience store, surf to a website, or type a text message without being reminded from every direction that you have an opportunity (and an implied obligation) to donate to the relief efforts, a friend of mine said to watch the next major ecological crisis in this country and note the lack-luster response overall. She was right. Now don't get me wrong, there are a few sites and organizations that are beginning to offer proceeds of sales to help in relief efforts for the Gulf, but I'm not being bombarded at every turn. While the government regulators and BP point fingers at each other and stare, the Gulf Coast is bracing for some major ecological and economic clean-up. Don't see the benefit concerts... don't see the "text for donation" popping up.... don't see the ex-Presidents rushing to organize charity relief. Nice, huh? Guess the Gulf Coast doesn't offer enough prime real estate for a tropical getaway when all is said and done. I'm amazed.
I also find myself missing the common sense one-liners that used to come from my Grandmother.... she had a way of putting things in concise sentences that pretty much closed the matter for discussion. I've actually been thinking about her most of the day.... the old one-room schoolhouse that my grandfather and his brother converted to a home (she outlived that house), the way she loved to sit outside and just be, enjoying the sunshine, the breeze and the familiar salt air I always take for granted until I've taken a trip inland. It just occurred to me why I'm thinking so much about her -- tomorrow would have been her birthday. She would have been 95... or 94... we were never sure exactly what year she was born since my great-grandfather kinda kept that to himself. Happy Birthday, Grandma... I'm sure you're happier where you are than you would be here these days.
Peace
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Cold.....
It's cold. It's cold everywhere. Very cold. The Jet Stream has been uncharacteristically low, which always draws down Alberta Clippers and arctic air, always brings weather systems from the South, always develops lows off our coast that sit and hold the systems steady while feeding them lots of moisture to produce snow, sleet, freezing rain, ice... but I'm not just talking about the weather.
The past year has been a challenge. The economy blew cold and empty... there were pay cuts instead of raises for jobs well done... then more cuts... then more. Good people lost their jobs through no fault of their own... it's just business. More good people, while still working, are hanging on to their homes by a thread and ever-increasingly non-confident prayer. "The worst is over" is what we're hearing, but I'm not so sure. It's a challenge to hold a positive outlook when every day you find there's not only another mountain to climb, but it's steeper, rockier, colder than the last.
And then there are the losses.... already this year, short as it's been. A co-worker of almost 11 years, an Aunt, and now if the grape-vine is correct a good friend and colleague of a quarter century... and all of this in just the past three weeks. With their passing more of the warmth this world held is now gone, and it's just that much colder.
I think, dear friends, that I'm ready for Spring and Summer.... ready for turn-arounds, good news, and life. This cold is getting into my bones and my soul, and I'm ready for it to leave now. It's been a very long winter.
The past year has been a challenge. The economy blew cold and empty... there were pay cuts instead of raises for jobs well done... then more cuts... then more. Good people lost their jobs through no fault of their own... it's just business. More good people, while still working, are hanging on to their homes by a thread and ever-increasingly non-confident prayer. "The worst is over" is what we're hearing, but I'm not so sure. It's a challenge to hold a positive outlook when every day you find there's not only another mountain to climb, but it's steeper, rockier, colder than the last.
And then there are the losses.... already this year, short as it's been. A co-worker of almost 11 years, an Aunt, and now if the grape-vine is correct a good friend and colleague of a quarter century... and all of this in just the past three weeks. With their passing more of the warmth this world held is now gone, and it's just that much colder.
I think, dear friends, that I'm ready for Spring and Summer.... ready for turn-arounds, good news, and life. This cold is getting into my bones and my soul, and I'm ready for it to leave now. It's been a very long winter.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Taking Stock
Let's see. My sons are men, one with many children, the other one content to wait. My beard is more salt than pepper. My six-pack is nicely insulated with soft padding. It takes a bit longer to get up from the floor after playing with the grandkids or the dog. I don't remember everything EXACTLY as it happened (but, I prefer to call that poetic license). My glasses are on more than they're off... and not for convenience anymore, I find I actually need them more often.
Yup.. I'm seasoned. But, seasoning can be a good thing. All the experiences in my life have been opportunities to learn. I'm slower to anger, and quicker to help someone understand why they have to do what they have to do, instead of just telling them the have to do it; give them a chance to think about what they're doing, thereby learning as I did. I'm appreciated by those who love me for who I am. Instead of a shallow pool of indecision and youth, they see the depth and power of experience; something you can anchor to. I'm not bothered by those who don't get me, by choice or by misunderstanding. My family and my friends are all I need, because they're the very best. They stand by me, fiercely defending, and they know I'm there for them at a moment's notice, no matter the time or circumstance.
I like how I've seasoned. And I'm so thankful for those in my life whom I love. And I'm looking forward to many more years with them in my life.
Yup.. I'm seasoned. But, seasoning can be a good thing. All the experiences in my life have been opportunities to learn. I'm slower to anger, and quicker to help someone understand why they have to do what they have to do, instead of just telling them the have to do it; give them a chance to think about what they're doing, thereby learning as I did. I'm appreciated by those who love me for who I am. Instead of a shallow pool of indecision and youth, they see the depth and power of experience; something you can anchor to. I'm not bothered by those who don't get me, by choice or by misunderstanding. My family and my friends are all I need, because they're the very best. They stand by me, fiercely defending, and they know I'm there for them at a moment's notice, no matter the time or circumstance.
I like how I've seasoned. And I'm so thankful for those in my life whom I love. And I'm looking forward to many more years with them in my life.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Living up to the name
Can't sleep. I tried, I really did. I know I need to. I have to work tomorrow, but that doesn't seem to mean a damn thing to my body. See, the name of the blog is more than my nickname and a clever (or maybe not) addendum reflecting my random thoughts. It's truly musings at midnight in most cases, because I just seem to go through this annoying, aggravating, frustrating, infuriating, someotherkindofating, inSOMnia! It's not even cyclical, it just happens. And you get to benefit from my fits of sleeplessness... poor reader.
Today was moving day at work, which always dregs up memories. You see, I've been at this place of employment for 10 years now, and as with other people in other companies, a fair mix of enemies, acquaintances, tolerances, and friends... some of the truest friends, as a matter of fact, have been met at this particular job. So, why does moving my office make me nostalgic? Because I remember the people who resided in the space ahead of me. This particular office I'm moving into is one of three large offices that used to make up one long room, and I find that it represents a microcosm of life's relationships.
The last occupant was a former boss of mine, and someone I consider a friend. He's one of those people I'm sure I would have partied with in high school had we known each other then and been living on the same side of the continent. He moved to another office Tuesday, I moved in today. Prior to him was someone evidently forgettable because I don't remember him. There are some people like that in everyone's life; someone who just doesn't make an impression... who's just there. You can see their face, and the name is somewhere beyond your reach, but not quite important enough to stretch forth and get. Prior to that, an energetic sort. The school jock who also seemed to have common sense and intelligence. The dude who floats in and out of your life, and you're fine to go have a drink with him once in awhile, shoot the breeze, catch up, move on, see ya next time, smile and wave. He was let go some time back and is actually on site as a consultant. Same principal. Before him, the superbrain. The genius with a passion for his brand of science, who tried to draw you into his world and help you struggle to understand what just came naturally to him. But, like the person who can climb the stairs faster then you and is incapable of slowing down, the voice of understanding just got fainter and fainter as he climbed higher and higher, until you're left standing on a landing thinking "maybe I just better go back down". He's no longer there, either, off making his mark on the world elsewhere. The walls weren't there before him, and the long room existed. Several people occupied the office then, none of them with the company now. One in particular is one of those true friends you come across. One of the rare, honest, straight-forward people who are your fiercest defenders and your very best constructive critics; there for you when you need picking up or when you need a good swift kick to get you going back in the right direction. One of those friends you stay in touch with even when they're not in your daily life, ready to talk when needed or to just be around.
And to think, all this runs through my brain while I'm moving desks and hooking up phones and computers. Is it any wonder I can't sleep? My psyche is wearing Nike's.
Today was moving day at work, which always dregs up memories. You see, I've been at this place of employment for 10 years now, and as with other people in other companies, a fair mix of enemies, acquaintances, tolerances, and friends... some of the truest friends, as a matter of fact, have been met at this particular job. So, why does moving my office make me nostalgic? Because I remember the people who resided in the space ahead of me. This particular office I'm moving into is one of three large offices that used to make up one long room, and I find that it represents a microcosm of life's relationships.
The last occupant was a former boss of mine, and someone I consider a friend. He's one of those people I'm sure I would have partied with in high school had we known each other then and been living on the same side of the continent. He moved to another office Tuesday, I moved in today. Prior to him was someone evidently forgettable because I don't remember him. There are some people like that in everyone's life; someone who just doesn't make an impression... who's just there. You can see their face, and the name is somewhere beyond your reach, but not quite important enough to stretch forth and get. Prior to that, an energetic sort. The school jock who also seemed to have common sense and intelligence. The dude who floats in and out of your life, and you're fine to go have a drink with him once in awhile, shoot the breeze, catch up, move on, see ya next time, smile and wave. He was let go some time back and is actually on site as a consultant. Same principal. Before him, the superbrain. The genius with a passion for his brand of science, who tried to draw you into his world and help you struggle to understand what just came naturally to him. But, like the person who can climb the stairs faster then you and is incapable of slowing down, the voice of understanding just got fainter and fainter as he climbed higher and higher, until you're left standing on a landing thinking "maybe I just better go back down". He's no longer there, either, off making his mark on the world elsewhere. The walls weren't there before him, and the long room existed. Several people occupied the office then, none of them with the company now. One in particular is one of those true friends you come across. One of the rare, honest, straight-forward people who are your fiercest defenders and your very best constructive critics; there for you when you need picking up or when you need a good swift kick to get you going back in the right direction. One of those friends you stay in touch with even when they're not in your daily life, ready to talk when needed or to just be around.
And to think, all this runs through my brain while I'm moving desks and hooking up phones and computers. Is it any wonder I can't sleep? My psyche is wearing Nike's.
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