THE MISSING APRIL
Story written by Rick Archer, May 2007
2007, there was no SSQQ Newsletter because one thing
after another went wrong. It drove me nuts.
Back in high school, I always
turned in my homework. I was a very
conscientious student. But I carried an
inordinate fear that one day I would forget to turn
something in on time and it would cost me dearly. I
was always on guard against a slipup.
I turned into such a worry-wart that now as an adult I still have an occasional
recurring nightmare that I have failed to study for
a high school test or have forgotten to do my
Well, last month one of my nightmares did come true:
Trying as hard as I could, last month I didn't send
out a Newsletter.
I contend that two companies - Centerpoint and Time Warner -
inadvertently combined forces to
make my life absolutely miserable for three
weeks in March and April. I have decided to blame them for missing
last month's April
So you are my school teacher. It is your job
to listen to my excuse and decide whether it is
justified or whether I am full of beans and need to
go to detention.
2006: THE STORY
THE STREET AND DOWN THE STREET
events to this story took place
in 2006 when the property across the street from my
house here in the Heights was bought
by a company known as Tricon. They
wasted little time. Men quickly cleared the property for construction (see pictures above).
I soon discovered that Tricon had acquired another
property nearby. About the same time as
they cleared the area in the pictures above, Tricon also
demolished some old apartments about six houses down
the street from my
house. No problem. The apartments
were crumbling tenements rife with crime. I
hailed the move. And as for the property
across my street, gee whiz, it was five empty lots
just begging to be developed. It had once been
owned by a cement company that filled in pools,
driveways, and sidewalks. All they needed was
a place to park their trucks and store concrete. The 5 lots had two
old structures on them, but otherwise had been
underdeveloped for the 30 years I have lived here.
Construction on both sites - across the street and
down the street - began in January 2007. Below
are pictures of some of the condos down the street
that replaced the aging apartments. Those guys
worked fast - it is only April, but some of
the units have already been sold now and people are moving in.
In the pictures below, you can see the progress of the new homes
across the street from my house. Tricon put five
homes on that property, but the arrangement is
bizarre. Two homes face the south
while three others face the west. There is
practically no yard for any of the five homes,
mainly because the three homes facing west were
given large free-standing garage apartments.
Thus there is little symmetry to their plans.
Oh well. It's still better than the empty dirt
Coming of the Martians - Can We Turn Your Lights Off?
I generally start writing the Newsletter on the
third Monday of every dance semester. After eight years
of writing Newsletters, I have developed a certain rhythm to
this. The third Monday is the ritualistic
start to two weeks of serious writing. Step One leads to Step Two and so on.
I have it down to a science.
However, even before I start the April Newsletter, I
was already worried.
I was concerned I might not have enough time to do a
thorough job because my wife's
brother Larry and his wife Roz were coming to spend
Easter Weekend with Marla and me. Their visit
would shorten my available time to write by two days. I reassured myself that I had
enough time, but very little to waste.
If there were any interruptions or delays, I might
be in trouble.
On Monday, March 19, I sat down
at my desk to begin typing the April Newsletter.
I was 3 words into my project when the doorbell
rang. I bristled at the interruption.
Then I shuddered - it was a Bad Omen
to have my Newsletter interrupted just as I got
It turned out my premonition was
absolutely on target. Had the Martians arrived? I felt like trouble was
knocking on my door. One of my favorite books
is HG Wells "War of the Worlds". For some odd
reason, I actually thought about that book as I
walked to the door. Chapter One is titled "The
Coming of the Martians". I opened the
door. No, the
visitor was not a Martian, but he was almost as bad -
it was some guy from Centerpoint. What was he
Centerpoint has a bad reputation at our house.
Recently in January Marla opened up a $1700 monthly
light bill. She gasped when she saw the
amount. This light bill was twice the amount
from the same time last year. Marla was
concerned because our energy habits had not changed.
If anything, the mild winter did not require any
special heating. Marla protested the bill.
However Centerpoint demanded Marla pay the full
amount. Mysteriously, the bill returned to
normal the following month. We have been
suspicious of this company ever since.
When I saw the
guy was from Centerpoint, at first I thought he was
here to investigate the mysterious $1700 light bill.
Fat chance of that; now how stupid was that
Instead what Centerpoint Guy wanted to do was turn
my home's electricity off for a couple hours in
the middle of the day. He had his crew ready and
waiting to hook up some of the new homes
down the street. Looking over his shoulder, I
saw a phalanx of six huge trucks on the street
I was completely taken off guard. You want to
do what? Finally I regained my senses.
I explained to him I was working. This was a
bad time for me. Couldn't they come back
around 4 pm when I go to pick up my daughter from
school? The Centerpoint guy replied that he was working
too, that his crew was already
here, and that he had a job to do. He then
pointed to six trucks. I would be doing him a
There was something fishy going on. Why was he
asking permission? Does anyone ask permission
when they don't need to? There was
a warning note sitting right on edge of my mind, so
I hesitated till I could figure out what it was. As
we talked it over for a while,
I was on the verge of cooperating when I suddenly
remembered a letter from Centerpoint that Marla had
shown me last week. I excused myself for a
moment and went inside to retrieve the letter. Then I showed
this guy the letter
from his own company instructing me that all my power
would be turned off the following Thursday ten days
You know how Dracula recoils from Holy Water?
Well, this guy did not want to see this document.
He fidgeted and bit his lip. His face crinkled
up. Seeing I had an advantage, I asked why
couldn't he come back and do his work then?
That's when I figured out that he was here to do the same project as was
mentioned in the letter. He decided to do it
ten days early! So I asked him about it.
The man's reply was that he
wanted to do it now since it was convenient.
It would save him a trip next week and he could move
on to his next project.
That's when I lost my temper. I couldn't
believe he was trying to do today the same work his
company had scheduled for the following week because
it was 'convenient' for him. He wanted not
just me, but ten other people also hooked up to the
same service to
drop everything we were doing at the drop of a hat.
Even more ridiculous is that there wasn't anyone
desperate for the new service; those condos were
still vacant. This guy was
willing to inconvenience my family just so he could
hook up some homes ahead of time that weren't even
After I got indignant, this guy gave up and went away.
But not for long. About two hours
later he came back to ask again. Now the two of us started
the same old dance again.
Again I held my ground.
I had already told him 4 pm would work. Why couldn't he and I agree on a time when my family
could be away? He said he didn't work that
way. Why was I not surprised?
Finally the scourge left with my lights still
intact, but a lot of good it did me. His two interruptions and the tension
between us pretty much shut
down any creativity towards writing the Newsletter
that day. It is hard for me to write when I am
upset unless I am writing about the thing that made
me mad (take a quick guess why I am writing this
story for the May Newsletter... I need to get it out
of my system!)
The following day, Tuesday, was uneventful. I
actually got some work done on the Newsletter.
Unfortunately Wednesday was lost due to a
rescheduled dental appointment in the middle of the
day. My hygienist had moved our date so she
could take a vacation, but to accommodate her, I had
to sacrifice a valuable Newsletter day. I was
running out of time.
The trees in front
of my house are a source of joy. I love them
for their beauty, for their shade, and for the
privacy they provide.
There is a garden behind that fence. These
beautiful trees help create the effect of a hidden
The array of trees in the picture includes 4 oak
trees, 2 pine trees, 3 sycamore trees, and a Chinese
tallow tree. I freely admit I am a big tree
hugger - I planted every one of those trees myself.
March 22, I was determined to make up for
yesterday's dentist appointment which had cut my day
in half. I was just settling down
to continue work on the Newsletter for April when there was another
knock on the door. I had one of those deja vu
experiences. Did they have spy watching to
determine the exact moment I sat down at the
I figured it was another Centerpoint guy demanding
to cut our power off, but instead this time it was some guy
from Trees, Inc. They wanted to trim my trees
surrounding the Centerpoint power line in front of my home.
I groaned to myself. These tree trimmers are a
yearly plague. Why did they have to show up
just when I was writing the Newsletter?
I knew from
bitter experience this was a problem that should not
be avoided. Over the
years I have learned to take the tree cutters
seriously. These people have been overzealous
in the past, so I have learned to negotiate with
them. My yearly give-and-take has
paid off. I understand that they have a job to
do, but they also have some leeway. So we
agree in advance on what they will cut and what they
will leave intact. As a result, in recent years, the trimming has
been much more careful. As a result, now the
trees in front of my house have never looked better,
yet at the same time the power lines have stayed free of any
limbs and branches.
If you look at the picture above, you won't even see
the power line. This is because the trees are
cut in a V-Shape that conceal the presence of the
power line running along the V. Thanks to the
way they cut the branches, the foliage is
so thick that the power line disappears.
Okay, it must be that time of
year again. I was frustrated
at the distraction, but I wasn't worried about the
I assumed today would be no different than last year. We
would go outside, look at the branches and make
compromises like we always do.
So the tree man and I carefully went tree by tree. I
listened to what he wanted
to do and I told him what I thought was fair given my
understanding of the rules (7 feet from the line).
Finally we got to a tree where the trunk was growing
about 7 feet from the power line straight up as part
of the V-Shape.
He wanted to cut it. I said no way. I
pointed to the houses going in across the street and
said this part of the oak tree provided privacy from people
looking in my bedroom window. The guy took a
look to see what I was talking about, then nodded.
He said he saw my point, but added he would need
permission to avoid cutting it.
What he said worried
me. I had first negotiated this particular tree trunk
with the tree cutters about five
years earlier. Each year the people would trim
anything growing towards the power line, but allow
the trunk to grow and spread branches in the other
direction that created
privacy. I wondered to myself why after five
years of cooperation this tree trunk was now a
I also knew I was going to have trouble
concentrating on the Newsletter until this tree
business was taken care of. This is hard to explain, but
I am a born fidgeter when it comes to writing.
It requires my complete concentration, but I am
easily distracted. Therefore I
don't handle interruptions well when I am trying to
write a newsletter.
Every time there is an
interruption, it might take me up to an hour or two
hours to settle back down again. But once I
get locked in, I can work for four to six hours
straight. The hard part is getting locked in.
Today was no exception. After the tree guy
left, I sat back down to try to get my
momentum to start writing.
But just as I settled
down to begin the newsletter for the second
time, the doorbell
rang again. I bristled and cursed to myself.
Sure enough, it was the Tree
Cutters back again.
The same guy wanted to talk with me about the trees
some more. He said he had talked with his
supervisor. His supervisor said they wanted to
do a lot more cutting than usual. I raised an
eyebrow. I asked him to explain, but soon
realized he wasn't high enough on the ladder to know
what the reasons were. I replied that as long as they
followed the same guidelines as we had in the past,
I would cooperate.
So we went over the same trees again. When we
came to the V-shaped oak tree, he said his
supervisor still wanted to cut down the trunk
despite the face that he agreed it was growing seven
feet from the power line. I explained that
this trunk was not a threat to the power
line. In case of wind, the way it was cut, the
trunk would fall AWAY from the power line if there
was a problem. After all,
the heavy limbs were growing away from the power
line. He agreed with me on this point
then he shrugged his shoulders and said his orders were
orders. He said he would go back and talk to
his supervisor again.
Although I still had a couple hours left before I
had to go to the studio, at this point, the constant interruptions had taken
their toll. I was completely distracted.
I decided to put things off till tomorrow and try to
get a fresh start. Another day down the drain.
On Friday, March 23, I was about an hour into
working on the Newsletter when the doorbell rang.
Here we go again. Standing before me was a new
person. But he turned out to be okay. So
we went outside and began to discuss what they
wanted to do with each tree. It was all very cordial, but when we got
to the tree trunk 7 feet from the line, he said his
orders were to cut it back severely. However
this time I had a new trick up my sleeve - I had
brought along a tape measure. I showed him
that the tree trunk was exactly seven feet from the
power line. What was the problem?
A funny look came over his face. This man
wasn't angry at me, but he looked very unhappy.
Something was wrong; this whole process was
different than in the recent years. Where was
the give and take?
He told me that two days had passed and no progress
had been made on the tree trimming. He was
getting a lot of pressure to get me to agree. He said he would call his
supervisor who would come over and make the final decision.
He added the supervisor could drop by in 30 minutes.
If so, would I be around? Hoping to get
this over with, I agreed to meet the supervisor's
supervisor the same day.
I was darkly amused that the current supervisor was
worried about all the wasted time. What about
my wasted time?
Helpless to concentrate on the newsletter, I sat down
in my chair and did a sudoku while I waited for the
And waited. And waited. Seven sudokus
later, I realized I had wasted the rest of Friday
waiting for him.
Now I was in a really bad mood. I was so far
behind it was ridiculous. I took stock.
I had blown practically an entire work week.
Only Tuesday had been solid.
But I hate starting the Newsletter on a weekend.
Saturday is my day off to play basketball and watch
movies. And Sunday is known as 'Marathon Sunday'
I work at the studio from 4 to 10 pm. Enough
said. I decided to shoot for Monday, the day I
typically get the ball rolling. I could
put out an abbreviated issue that would still be
HELL WEEK BEGINS
On Monday, March 26, I was
getting ready to work when the doorbell rang. Uh
oh. It was the supervisor's supervisor's supervisor. The
moment I saw him, I sensed trouble. His
demeanor was Macho Man. My instincts were
correct. The other men had been polite, but this
guy was a punk.
Before I even said a word, the Big Cheese Supervisor
announced that if I didn't like his decision,
he would call the police who would enforce any action he wished to take.
Let me repeat - there were no hellos and no
introductions. The first thing out of his
mouth was a threat to call the police.
I lost my temper. I told him he had no
business threatening me. I had done nothing to
deserve that kind of attitude. What gave him
the right to threaten me with the cops? Did I
break some Tree Law I didn't know about?
I told him he had a
lot of nerve coming into my home and talking to me
this way. Maybe he should just go right ahead and call the
police if that's how he had learned to do his business.
I pulled out my cell phone and asked him if he
wanted me to call them. That worked.
Big Cheese immediately became a little more
civilized. After he calmed down a little, he decided to
show me his plans tree by
tree just like the last two guys. As
usual, I disagreed on the key tree. I brought
my ruler. It showed there was exactly 7 feet.
He didn't like that trick one bit. Big Cheese got angry and said he would consult the Forester,
who would be at my house in the morning to make the final decision. I told him I had a doctor's
appointment. Would it be asking too much to
ask the Forester to come at 11 am? The man
shook his head and said if I was home, fine, if not,
Needless to say, I didn't write any more newsletter
that day. I was angry at being pushed around
and threatened. Nor did I sleep well that
night because I was worried sick what might happen
to my trees if I wasn't there to stick up for them.
In the morning, I asked Marla to watch out for these
guys and ask them to wait. I would be back at 11 am.
While I was at the doctor's office, Marla called to
say she heard cutting on trees outside the house.
They had not even bothered to knock. She had gone outside to see what was going on.
A very cocky man from Centerpoint told Marla the decisions had already been made, so go back in
the house. Marla tried to explain that I would
be home soon, but the man replied he wasn't going to wait,
then brushed her off.
I was furious. I rushed home from the doctor's
office, but it was too late. The butchering
had begun and it was worse than I had
ever seen it before.
Three of my oak trees were literally sawed in half.
That's right. Halfway up the tree, they
severed the trunk. Oh my goodness.
This was the most aggressive cutting I had seen in
20 years of this annual plague!!
In the past, these people
have trimmed limbs away from the power lines.
That's their job and I accepted it. But not
today. Forget the word 'trimming', their idea
was to chop half the tree down. What kind
of pro was this guy? I wondered just exactly what
the exalted Forester had learned at
I was beyond furious. This wasn't necessary. I confronted the Centerpoint
Forester and asked him to explain why he cut my 3 trees
down. He explained that they were going to be
doing some work on the lines and he wanted to make
things easy for his men to move around by doing a
little extra trimming.
I screamed at him. "Extra trimming? Are
you nuts!! You didn't trim my trees, you cut
them down, you
idiot! What in the hell are you doing?!"
"Hey, don't worry about it, Mister. The trees will
I guess that's what he learned at tree school.
What a genius.
This guy is Centerpoint's tree butcher.
If you see him, cling to your trees and beg him for
As you can see in
the picture on the right, two telephone poles are quite
visible. Before the Forester's Hatchet Job, my
trees were cut in a V-shape that extended on either
side of both poles. The reason these poles are
easily visible now is because the two trees standing next to them were
cut in half below the line. Four 15-feet high
segments were destroyed.
No attempt was made to trim the branches within 7 feet as was the
stated policy. Chop Chop Chop.
Centerpoint's Forester must have gone to tree school
for a long time to learn such precision cutting.
In addition to
the two trees in the picture, seven other trees were also severely
cut back. I could not understand this
excessive work. The damage to my trees really
hurt. I went into a
pretty serious depression after this incident.
ADDING INSULT TO INJURY
Later that night, Marla asked me how to fix
the TV in our bedroom. The cable wasn't working. After
some investigation, I realized there was no cable
signal at all. None. So I called
Time Warner. They would send a guy out the next day
to have a look at it, but it was scheduled during
As a result
Marla had to cancel her evening appointment to wait
at home for four hours till Mr. Cable Guy showed up.
Naturally he showed up at the last possible moment.
At that time, the repairman confirmed what I
suspected - the Centerpoint butchers had not only
seriously cut back nine trees, they had severed our
cable line for good measure. He said the cable
had been sliced by a saw.
The repairman added that the cable was nowhere near
any of the trees that were cut. Therefore I strongly
suspect it was deliberate, perhaps a payback for
wasting three days of their time till they brought
the Butcher in.
NOW ROADRUNNER GOES OUT
on Wednesday the next morning, my Internet
cable known as Roadrunner went out. How was I supposed to write a
newsletter without email or Internet?
Did Centerpoint cause this problem too?
called Roadrunner repair only to get a recorded message that
they were experiencing problems in the Heights area followed by a request to be
patient. Since Roadrunner is usually just down temporarily, I
decided to bide my time.
So I twiddled my
thumbs for the rest of the day. Between losing
my trees, my TV, and now the Internet, I was in a
pretty foul mood. Not only Wednesday, but also
Thursday was a lost cause - Roadrunner was down till
the afternoon. Two more
days of Newsletter work down the drain. I was
a basket case.
It was now Friday, March 30.
I was completely out of my rhythm on the Newsletter
project. Classes were starting in two days on Sunday and I had
only written about 25% of the April
Newsletter. Oh well. Better get to work.
Maybe a last-ditch effort would yield results.
But I didn't get very far. I actually tried to
work on the Newsletter on Friday morning, but found
I was still too upset over the tree incident to be
very effective. Slowed by my depression, I
just muddled along at the keyboard with some
Besides, I had something else bothering me. I had
some unpleasant hatchet work of my
own to do. An poignant email served as a reminder that a
certain persona non grata was coming to the studio
tonight. I had made the decision to ask
this individual to leave the studio for a variety of
reasons. I know you are curious, so I will say
that this individual was accused of being highly
deceitful to another student. However, since this person didn't
give us an email address, I had to write a letter
so I could hand deliver it. I have to
tell you, this ruined my mood.
First Centerpoint, then Roadrunner, now a deceitful
The featured event on Saturday, March 31, was our
Red and Black Western Party. I had committed myself
to creating a new crash course - Advanced
Synchronized Polka Patterns. I spent most of
the afternoon working on creating new patterns.
Thanks to my effort, the crash course that evening
was a terrific success. The patterns were
intricate and challenging. However, after
creating the new patterns, I wasn't in much of a mood
to write a Newsletter too.
TUESDAY TUESDAY... WILL THIS THING EVER GET DONE?
The following day was
another Marathon Sunday. By coincidence, it
was also April Fool's Day... how appropriate. Since
it was the start of the new April semester, I had
extra duties like printing volunteer cards and
getting various forms printed. Working on the Newsletter
was out of the question.
If you are keeping count, this story is
now 14 days old and still no newsletter.
Believe it or not, I still had hopes of putting out
a Newsletter for April. On Monday, I started
writing with a passion. I followed
that up with more solid work on Tuesday. With
two solid days of no interruptions, I was
half done. I had a shot at finishing tomorrow.
But that night Marla came
home in a furious mood - Roadrunner had gone out at
the studio! Registration was a fiasco.
Because there was no cable, the registration staff
had to register 150 people by hand. This meant
Marla would have to key in all of those
registrations herself on Wednesday here at home.
Marla was exasperated.
I was worried too.
I needed to get Roadrunner up and working again at the
studio. One night with Roadrunner down was bad
enough, but I couldn't allow the entire week's
registration to be done without the use of our
What could have gone wrong?
Marla's story had me confused. Marla told me
she had already called Time Warner only to be told
Roadrunner was actually working just fine at the
studio. The signal was there according to the
tech guy. After she was told this, Marla
made a beeline to the office. She examined the
cables and router box for clues. She was
appalled to discover that all the Internet cables
had been unplugged from the router! It
appeared to her that someone had sabotaged our cable
I raised an eyebrow at that conclusion. That
didn't make a lot of sense. My daughter had
been in that same office on Monday night. I asked
her if she did anything to the cables. Sam
replied that everything was business as usual -
Roadrunner was working just fine and she didn't do
anything to the cables. Then she reminded me
had LOCKED the door to the office when we left.
Hmm. This meant if someone sabotaged our
cable, they would first have to have a key to the
studio, then have a key to the office. I was
becoming very skeptical of sabotage. Still, I had to
solve the problem. What could have gone
That night, I was terribly
restless worrying about the sabotaged cable. I
woke up at 2 am. With nothing else to do, I
walked into my office and started to work on the
newsletter. Uh oh. Now my home Roadrunner
was out! When I called, the Heights wasn't listed on
their outage areas, so I stayed on the line till
tech support picked up. The gentleman said
that he had received several calls from the Heights
area, so he would report the problem immediately.
Oh hell. I went back to bed.
Another wasted opportunity.
On Wednesday the next morning, I noticed that my
home Roadrunner was back on. However I was too
worried about the problem at the studio to
concentrate on the newsletter so I went to the
studio to figure the problem out.
I soon discovered that Marla had accidentally looked
at the wrong cable box. There was no sabotage
after all. Then after I rebooted the correct
router, we were in business again. But it was
1 pm before I got back to work. I was only
half-finished on the Newsletter and I had lost an
This studio cable
problem could not have come at a worse time.
The pressure was already intense - tomorrow Thursday
the power would be turned off. I typed and I
typed and I typed some more. The
Newsletter was three-quarters done. I was
Thursday was the day Centerpoint had scheduled to turn off our power for
a minimum of four hours. The reason was simple
- they needed to hook up electricity to all those
down the street and across the street. This
project was why the Forester had butchered my trees
in the first place. It was no coincidence the
two trees that were damaged the most were the trees
near the two telephone poles. He had
whacked these two trees in half to make it easier for the men to
work on the poles.
Somehow I found no solace
in making life easier for them by chopping down my
trees - I had lost the beauty of my trees and all
my privacy in the process. I could see the
windows in the new houses across the street plain
and clear. Where there had once been foliage,
there was nothing. I shook my head in helpless
anger just thinking about it again.
On Thursday morning, sure enough, there were a half-dozen Centerpoint trucks on our street. Around 10 am
on Thursday, March 29, the power to our house was
turned off. There wouldn't be any
Newsletter work until our power came back on. No
computers, no TV, no lights, no air-conditioning. It was
painful to be reminded how dependent we are on
electricity. But it wasn't all bad.
Since we had been warned in advance, I
was able to schedule a morning of errands to
avoid the inconvenience.
THE FINAL BLOW
When I got home that afternoon, I noticed the
power was back on. All right! Home
stretch. Time to finish the Newsletter.
Except when I sat down, I made a terrible discovery - I had no
Roadrunner again! I groaned. For the
time in a week, I had no access to email and the
Internet. How would I ever finish the
So I called Roadrunner and
got the same message as last time- 'problems in the
Heights; please be patient'. I assumed all the
work that Centerpoint was doing
that day had disrupted
Roadrunner. After all, Time Warner and Centerpoint and ATT use the same
poles. Now Thursday was completely shot.
Meanwhile my brother-in-law Larry and his wife Roz
flew into town Thursday evening for their Easter
weekend visit at our house.
was really happy to see Larry and Roz, I have to be
honest and say the futility of the Newsletter was
haunting my conscience at every turn.
I still had a
chance. I crossed my
fingers and hoped that Roadrunner would be back up
on Friday. I had a major
commitment on Friday - I had promised Marla I would join the
three of them on Friday for a visit to the French Masters Art
exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts that afternoon.
However if I got up early, all I had to do was put the finishing touch
on the newsletter on Friday morning and it would be
good to go.
So at 6 am on Friday morning,
April 6, I got out of bed and went to my computer
for my last chance at getting the Newsletter out.
I may have been exhausted and bleary-eyed, but I was
determined to finish my work. So
consternation when I discovered I still had no Internet
connection. The cable was still out!!
Softly so as not to awaken Roz or Larry, I
said a very serious curse word. What had I ever done to deserve
I decided I had one last shot. If Roadrunner would come
back on Saturday, we would be good to go. But
when Saturday rolled around, the cable was still
out. That is when I became suspicious. Three
days was a long time for a 'temporary outage'. So I called
Roadrunner Tech Support. They said there were
no outages in my area, so they scheduled a service
I sat in my office Monday morning twiddling my thumbs.
The man was supposed to be there from 7-11 am.
At 11 am, no one had shown up. Just as I called
Roadrunner to see what the problem was, the doorbell
rang. The serviceman walked in, replaced my
cable modem, and was gone in 5 minutes.
Just like that, problem solved.
I was really frustrated. My old modem had been the
problem all along, but the coincidence of the
Heights reports on Time Warners' answering machine
and the Centerpoint activity had completely tricked
me. I had assumed that Centerpoint's electrical
work on Thursday had been responsible for the latest
problem when in reality the modem was going out.
What a stupid mistake. Due to my ignorance, I was unable to access the
Internet for five crucial days.
How ridiculous is it to
send out an April Newsletter in the second week of
the semester? By the time most people got the
email, it would time to start registering for May. So that was the end of my three week long nightmare.
I threw in the towel. And now you know my
One more thing - as I finished writing this article,
Marla reminded me to call Time Warner. The
cable TV is out at the studio. Does that sound