AppleFoot: Eye Am Not A Camera

  • 100_0047
    I am a lousy photographer, and here's the evidence.

Reading

Time Wasters

  • Angry Alien Productions
    Home to the 30-Second Bunnies Theatre Library. My favorites: Jaws and The Exorcist.
  • JigZone
    More jigsaw puzzles than you can shake a stick at. Choose how many pieces, what pattern.
  • Wordsplay (f/k/a Weboggle)
    Play Boggle on the web, with people who are much, much better at it than you. Love the "words only you found last round" feature.

Blogroll

  • Some of the feeds I'm following:

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May 2008

Cancelling RCN

Many, many years ago, I subscribed to a dial-up account at a small, local Internet Service Provider. After a few years, that small provider was absorbed into RCN. I kept the RCN dial-up account for several years. In November I got DSL from Verizon (not, I should point out, because I have even a sliver of love for Verizon). I hung onto the RCN account for a couple months to make sure I was getting all my email, etc. A couple months turned into six months, because I am a loser. Yesterday I finally called RCN to cancel my account.

I worked my way through the usual long phone tree, eventually finding an option that specifically said it was for "canceling dial-up service". Of course, at large, soulless corporations like Verizon and RCN, the number you press on the phone tree does not actually route your call any differently than pressing any other number. It's a useless exercise designed to keep you busy so you won't notice how long it's taking to get a representative on the phone.

So I choose the "cancel dial-up account" option and get "Brian", who makes me give him my home phone number, address, reason for calling, reason for canceling, etc. Then he announces that he can't cancel the account, and he'll have to transfer me to Billing. After 15 minutes on hold, the Billing guy makes me answer all the same questions again, then informs me that Billing doesn't do any cancellations at all, and he's going to have to transfer me to a dial-up technician. At which point I tell him to whom I've spoken already, and point out that this sort of poor customer experience is precisely the reason I'm running from RCN. In transferring me to the dial-up tech, our man in Billing disconnects me.

I go back to the toll free number, work my way through the phone tree, and am sent back to a customer service rep, who makes me give her my phone number, street address, reason for calling, etc. Then she announces that she can't cancel my account, and she'll have to transfer me to Billing. So I tell her my whole customer experience so far today, emphasizing the fact that someone in Billing has already told me that their department absolutely cannot assist me.

Now suddenly she can handle this herself without transferring me any further. This takes several minutes, during which I repeatedly wonder if I've been disconnected again, due to the static on the line and the lack of a speaking voice.

It took almost 45 minutes and considerable aggravation to close an account costing me $21.95 per month. I can't tell you how often I thought, "It might be worth it just to keep paying them," but I'm convinced that their nefarious plan includes making things so difficult that I will do just that, continuing to pay them for the convenience of not having to deal with them.

Employment

I can no longer put it off (although, as evidenced by the existence of this post, I'm trying). Tonight I must apply for my job.

Thanks to the recent merger, everyone in the organization is being asked to re-apply for their jobs. I have not updated my resume in more than five years. Technically, all I have to do is fill out a very basic one page application form, but I'm pretty embarrassed that I don't have a resume to attach, so I'm punishing myself right now, trying to work one up.

It's pretty much a sure thing that I'll be hired for the position, so in a way it's low stress, but I'm making it more stressful on myself. And my head is killing me.

Thoroughbred racing

On Friday, Racing Hall of Fame trainer Frank Whiteley, Jr., died. Whiteley's most famous horse is probably Ruffian, so it seemed appropriate that Saturday's Derby featured a filly (the first in nine years to enter racing's premier three-year-old event) that seemed to capture the hearts and imaginations of many. Souvenir stands sold out of Eight Belles supporter buttons while they still had plenty on hand for other contenders. The filly obliged with a good race and showed placed behind a strong Big Brown.

And that's when the reminder of Whiteley's horse turned horribly specific. While Ruffian, despite her heartbreaking efforts (link includes interview with Whiteley and footage of the match) to run on three legs, never finished the great match race, Eight Belles crossed the wire and was galloping out before she broke down.

Some early commentators questioned whether it was fair to run a filly with colts. These were followed by animal cruelty questions, questions about track surface (a hot topic right now in racing), and finally questions about the industry's breeding practices.

When I was going through my adolescent "horse-y" phase, I followed thoroughbred racing more closely than I do now. A thoroughbred race is a beautiful thing--they're gorgeous animals, with great big hearts, lots of determination. Unfortunately, racing lore is full of gallant horses that tragically broke down.

It's always seemed weird to me that humans take so much credit for the work of horses--trainers and owners lifting the trophy and being honored while the horse goes back to the barn. That contrast was especially evident yesterday, when humans took a lot of credit for Big Brown's win while not taking much responsibility for Eight Belles' death. That's probably not fair of me to say, pending autopsy, but I think as much as I love thoroughbred racing, it's worth asking what place racing has in our modern world.

Recently Misinterpreted

What the database record said: "High Plain Elementary [School]"

What I read: "High Pain Elementary"

Which is silly, since everyone knows that "high pain" is junior high.