Day 4 of no home Internet: AT&T still hasn't found the squirrel; I'm not sure they're really looking

I published my sad tale of home Internet loss on Monday evening. I'd figured out/remembered how to turn a cell phone into a hot spot by then. Thus, I had two hot spots -- the one under my collar and the aforementioned phone -- and a means by which to inflict my admittedly First World problem back upon the Internet itself.

I fancy myself a writer these days. Writers write. (At least, we're supposed to.) And, as Mark Twain may or may not have said, "Write what you know." (Maybe it was Hemingway who said it. Whatever. This sort of direction puts a person like me at a competitive disadvantage, given how little I know about anything. But I knew about not having Internet. So I wrote about that.) The trick, of course, is to frame one's complaints in a way that proves instructive or at least amusing for others. When successful, this raises the output from mere whiny journaling to something more. Not much more, perhaps (after all, it is still whining), but that is for the reader to decide. Either way, I found the exercise therapeutic.

Yesterday morning, still pleased with my effort, I Tweeted out a link to the post. (I still say "Tweet" when referring to a posting on X. If I were to write 'I X'd something out' it would be, in my view, ambiguous. Had I crossed something out, rendering it illegible, or had I launched it into the wider world on the social media platform now known as X?)

The X-post elicited a response from AT&T. A person who is probably not known as Emma to her actual friends and family left a comment which read, in pertinent part, "I completely understand how important it is to count on reliable connections and I truly apologize for the inconvenience this has caused to you. I'll definitely look into this. Could you please help me with the zip code?"

I provided it. Soon thereafter, Emma left another reply, "Thank you for sharing the zip code. As I have checked with the shared zip code there is no service interruption from our end." Welcome to Corporate America, where the customer is always wrong. But I was prepared for this; I had (you may recall) figured out how to sign onto the AT&T website and check for outages that way. I published a photo of my laptop screen, similar to the one above. Identical, really, except the one above is from this morning. I also published another screenshot, this one showing the area of outage. It's small. No more than a block or two in any direction. (Which is why I assume that a squirrel caused it, as opposed to the North Koreans or some piratical band of Eastern Europeans.)

Anyway, confronted with the evidence of her own website, "Emma" was forced to concede, "As per the picture it looks like there's an outage at your location. I'll definitely get this checked for you. Could you please meet us in a DM so that we can take this further."

Now I have to admit, despite Doomscrolling far more than I should on X, I have never used the DM feature to any great extent. My first mistake was thinking I was to find a way to DM "Emma." But that's not how it works. Eventually, I figured out that I had to DM AT&T itself. "Emma" was there waiting... but not for long. I also didn't know how or where to look for DM responses, so I didn't see her responses until after she completed her shift.

"Emma" was replaced by "Juan."

Hello, Jack. I understand that you are experiencing issues with the Internet service due an outage. We're really sorry to know about the situation you're experiencing. You can be sure our specialized tech team is working hard to get everything up and running as soon as possible.

I sparred with Juan for awhile yesterday afternoon and evening. He sent me back to the website which I've visited a hundred times in the last few days. Shockingly, it still showed an outage. It still does. Juan later insisted, "I've carefully reviewed and checked the area, we have our engineers working right now to bring the internet back on and repair all the lines damaged." He thanked me for my non-existent patience. Both Juan and Ella were unfailingly polite.

But you know what? It doesn't matter. My Internet is still out. It's a relatively nice day today here in Chicago; I could, and did, take a good long walk through the neighborhood this morning, looking for any specialized AT&T engineers. I didn't find any. And my Internet is still out.

On the other hand, I also didn't find a dead squirrel. Maybe finding the bloated, decaying rodent corpse is more difficult than one would think... but, then, I lack any sophisticated squirrel detection equiptment: I am not a specialized AT&T engineer.

Day 2 of no home Internet is about to become Day 3 and desperation is beginning to set in

I'm not Andy Rooney, but I'm feeling cantankerous and curmudgeonly these days and, like the late Mr. Rooney, I'm not afraid to tell you about it.

I don't know for certain when our home Internet went down. It may have been out Sunday morning before my wife and I went to Mass; it was certainly gone afterward.

I don't overreact. I know the drill. First unplug the router, then restart it.

Nope.

Then unplug the Internet modem. Restart that.

Nope.

Only then did I try to find a telephone number where I could report my situation and, perhaps, find out whether my issue was a failure of my equipment or whether I was caught up in a larger problem. I found a number fairly quickly.

The AI that answered my call told me, in an annonyingly cheery voice, that it needed to run a few tests to check the problem. These tests took a bit of time. "Thank you for your patience," the cheery AI said. Goes to show you how bad AI is at reading us meatsacks: I had no patience at all. And that was at the beginning of this odyssey.

When the tests were concluded, the AI agreed that there was an outage in our area. But, the AI enthused, AT&T is aware of the problem and they are working to fix it. The AI estimated that repairs would be complete by 2:14 p.m.

But the Bears game started at noon! We cut the cable cord some years back; streaming was cheaper (well, it used to be). On the other hand, recent Bears games had all come down to 4th quarter; perhaps it would be alright.

The oddly specific estimated time for restoration of service came... and went... and the angry red lights were still flashing on the Internet modem. I called again. The AI was still cheery, but it may have been drinking. After again running a few tests ("thank you for your patience") and confirming that there was still an outage in my area, the AI offered a new estimated restoration time of "dollar sign-brackets." The Bears managed to win without my watching.

I called a couple more times yesterday, but the AI, perhaps embarrassed by its estimated restoration time of "dollar sign-brackets," refused to give any more estimated restoration times. After running its lengthy tests, while thanking me -- again -- for my patience, the AI did add -- in its insistently upbeat way -- that it understood how frustrating this was, but I didn't believe that any more than you do.

The Internet was still down this morning. So I called again. After running a few more tests (how many are there?), and thanking me for my patience, and conceding that there was, indeed, still an outage in my area, the AI braved a new restoration time: 4:50 p.m.

I understand that it's cold outside. But wouldn't you think that a ginormous corporation like AT&T could dispatch a technian to look for the remains of whatever squirrel that bit through the wire that brought down our local Internet service? Given how much it charges for its services, AT&T presumably could even furnish its technician with a heated truck.

If AT&T did have someone driving around the neighborhood looking for a squirrel carcass, he or she was not successful in his search, because 4:50 came and went this afternoon and the Internet was not restored.

I figured out how to sign on to the AT&T website today; this way, I don't have to listen to the AI anymore. But, since the 4:50 p.m. restoration time slipped by, the website has stopped guessing restoration times. At least it didn't tell me that my service would be restored by dollar sign-bracket.

And, without the distraction of TV, I had a chance to catch up on my reading a little. I read my AT&T bill for one. It seems AT&T is going to increase my bill by $5 starting next month. Who'd have guessed that?

Thank you for your patience.

Some of you may be interested in this, hopefully from a national security perspective

As opposed to, for example, wanting to join in:

Because I run a political site, I get emails from all points on the political spectrum. I got this one a few days back. It promotes an upcoming "webinar cohosted by the Party for Socialism and Liberation." Yes, that's a link to the party website in the preceding sentence (motto: "For the planet to live, capitalism must end"). OK, don't believe the actual website -- you're a 'normie' like me, and you don't want to believe that there are communists out there trying to turn disagreements over policies into revolution. ("See?" you might say, "It says socialism in the name, not communism. You know, like Sweden?")

That's fine. Check out instead the Wikipedia entry for the Party for Socialism and Liberation: "The Party for Socialism and Liberation (PSL) is a communist political party in the United States. PSL formed in 2004, when its members split from the Workers World Party." Thus, these really are actual communists, or at least communist cosplayers. So much for truth in labeling.

Here, in case you can't read the image clearly, are the first two paragraphs of the text:

We’ve reached 400,000 Americans ready for a General Strike, with 7 million taking to the streets during the No Kings rallies and the Chicago Mayor even calling for one — the idea is starting to break through. This is our ultimate weapon, and we can make it a reality.

On Saturday, November 22nd at 12pm PST / 3pm EST we’re gathering online to test our preparedness for a General Strike. Join this crucial webinar cohosted by the Party for Socialism and Liberation to learn from labor leaders about how general strikes have happened historically and how we can apply these lessons now.

Maybe you were one of those "seven millions" who joined a No Kings rally (that particular number is at the very tip top of the estimates of the turnout, by the way, though it is one that even some supposedly reputable outlets reported). But does your participation mean you are ready to join the revolutionary struggle to destroy capitalism? (That would be one way to reduce your property taxes -- abolish private property! But, then, where would you live?) Are these the folks you want setting the opposition agenda? What "labor leaders" are supporting this craziness? Who is paying for this? Cui bono?

I took an oath 45 years ago, when I became an attorney, to "support the constitution of the United States and the constitution of the state of Illinois," and I'm not going back on it now. I hope and pray I am still in the majority on this.

Breaking news... of a sort... or at least an explanation as to why the frequency of posting has declined in recent weeks

I always have grand plans for what to put up here and (of greater import to would-be judicial candidates and their supporters) on Page One of FWIW. Even in my current retired state, I seldom get as much done as I think I should.

But those who have been regularly clicking in on FWIW in recent weeks have noticed that I have barely posted anything at all. I have received some emails, inquiring as to my whereabouts.

I haven't gone anywhere. But, on April 22, whilst walking a couple of my grandchildren home from school, I fell, breaking my left arm, just below the shoulder. Yes, I broke my humerus, but I didn't find anything humorous about it at all. Well... maybe in the way I fell: The little group I was walking with were all headed southbound on White Street in Des Plaines, heading away from Central School, in the general direction of my daughter's house, or so I thought. My four-year-old grandson, who'd accompanied me on the school pickup mission, decided to reverse course without warning anyone; he'd just passed a particularly interesting dandelion and wanted to go back for another look. I wasn't looking ahead; I was getting the latest information about third grade recess etiquette from my granddaughter, who was walking to my right, so I didn't know that I was in jeopardy until my legs were so tangled up with the four-year old's that the only question was not whether I would topple, but where.

If I'd been walking next to a similarly-sized adult, I might have grabbed hold and remained upright. But my granddaughter, if tall for her age, was too short for this purpose. If I fell on her, I might hurt her. If I fell forward, I would probably injure my grandson. So, having no better option, I fell to my left, into the grassy parkway adjacent to the sidewalk. I went down like an old tree in a hurricane.

I heard the crunch.

I knew immediately that I was in trouble; I had no way of knowing how much trouble I was in. And would be in, going forward.

I hope to tell some stories about this experience elsewhere. Suffice, for these purposes, to say that having a broken arm complicates the simplest of tasks. Sneezing, for example. Getting out of a chair, for another. Who knew that the shoulder muscle is involved in standing up? Many hours after the fall, when I finally saw the ER doc, he tried to offer consolation: "Yes, your arm is broken, but at least it's your left arm."

He paused. "Unless you're left-handed, of course."

"I am," I said.

"Bummer."

Standing was not my only difficulty. Even typing... when I finally mustered the courage to try it... was incredibly painful.

But I am making progress: Typing is now merely... uncomfortable. So I will get back to posting... as tolerated. (I believe that's still the proper medical jargon....)

Wisdom from the comics... part 2,245

Click on any image to enlarge or clarify.

From last Sunday's Brewster Rockit. I think I can guess what his theory is.

Can you?

Speaking of phones, and what they're putting in them these days, I believe Artificial Intelligence will get sassy before it decides to murder us. When the Perseverance Rover starts sending messages like this (from Carpe Diem, March 28), it may be best to start unplugging things:

Aliens and outer space are a theme here this morning.

This March 6 entry from Bizzaro fits in:

But I come back to Earth for this final entry. Lawyer Ed Kudlik is frustrated that his son Dustin still lives at home. He can't understand why Dustin seems insuficiently motivated to leave the nest (hmmm... failure to launch... so sort of keeping with the outer space theme after all....)

Anyway, even in his chronic frustrated state, Ed can be reminded of what is truly important (Dustin comic, March 30):

What is the math equivalent of a Hallmark Holiday?

Seen on Facebook. Posted there by... I don't know who because Facebook decided it should refresh its page on my screen and send the post from which I had grabbed this photo swirling into the depths of the algorithm. An extensive search has proved fruitless.

My apologies to the original poster, to whom I would surely have given credit if only Facebook had let me.

In the course of my search, though, I did find this Facebook post, which I grabbed from Anna Konya:

There are those who insist that puns are the lowest form of humor. This cartoon, by Grant Snider, from Incidental Comics, is typical:

Puns may not be the most sophisticated form of humor, but to rank them beneath scatalogical humor is just so many road apples.

But to return to the topic, one more post, that I saw on Lynn Dowd's Facebook feed today, attributed to a site called Only Engineers Can Understand:

Enjoy the rest of Pi Day... but beware tomorrow.

Tomorrow... you know... the Ides of March?

Opportunities for responsibly disposing Christmas trees and holiday light strings

The Three Kings have dropped off their gifts and are returning to their own countries by a different route, just as they were warned to do in a dream. It is now time to take down the Christmas decorations. But must the tree just be left at the curb or in the alley for garbage pickup? What about that light string that burned so brightly in December... but failed just after New Year's?

Chicago area residents have several options to responsibly dispose of their used Christmas trees and no-longer-working light strings.

As seen in the poster above, the Chicago Park District lists 27 locations at which residents may drop off their used Christmas trees. Dropoff dates are supposed to be between this Saturday, January 11, and Saturday January 25, but I can state for a fact that a lot of trees have already been dropped off at Norwood Park already. (When you put up a tree right after Halloween, even though you make heroic efforts to keep it moist, it's almost impossible that the poor thing will make it all the way to Día de los Reyes Magos... there were a few trees at the park on the Feast of St. Stephen.)

And, as of Monday, January 13, your used tree can be traded in for usable mulch, at least at the locations indicated above.

If you act quickly enough, you can turn your used tree into goat food: According to this post from Channel 11, the Urban Growers Collective is recycling trees by feeding them to their herd of goats. Trees may be dropped off until 5:00 p.m. today and from 9:30 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. tomorrow, January 11, at the collective's South Chicago Farm, 9001 S. Mackinaw Street (enter off 90th Street).

North suburban readers may want to donate their used trees at one of eight locations operated by the Lake County Forest Preserve District. This Patch article lists all eight donation sites. Used trees will be accepted at these locations until Feburary 1.

At least some of the trees donated will be used by Lake County as "fish cribs." According to the Channel 11 article, donated trees are tied together and weighted down with cinderblocks or similar heavy objects, then submerged in larger lakes, such as former quarries, where they can provide a vital habitat for young fish.

As for holiday light strings which have given up the Ghost of Christmas Past, Reduce Waste Chicago has announced 30 locations at which used light strings will be accepted. All are listed at this link, from the Edgebrook Ace Hardware Store at 5423 W. Devon, to the UPS Store at 6102 S. Archer Ave. in Chicago. Outside Chicago, lights will be collected at the Rebuilding Exchange, 1245 Hartrey Ave. in Evanston and by the PTO at Whittier Elementary, 715 N. Harvey, in Oak Park (donations must be made during school hours).

Reduce Waste Chicago says that, last year, more than 3,000 pounds of lights were collected from 24 locations last year. Thanks to the expansionof collection sites, the organization expects to collect even more this year (through January 31). (Credit to this article by Pavan Acharya of Block Club Chicago for this information.)

Readers should know that different municipalities have different, often contradictory, rules about what materials may be recycled in their communities. The City of Chicago, for example, complained a couple of years ago that shiny wrapping paper -- you know, the good stuff -- was not recyclable.

The Chicago Sun-Times reported earlier this week about a new app called Recycle Coach that several Chicago-area municipalities, including now the City of Chicago itself, are using to help residents determine what is and is not recyclable in their area.