Tag: Ashland

Minor Rant #143

We began having Internet connectivity issues in the beginning of May. It was intermittent, and service typically returned in a few minutes.

We were planning a trip, and busy with those details, so I didn’t call it in. On the day before we left, the outage was a few hours in the morning. Logging in at a coffee shop,  I sent my ISP, Ashland Home Net (AHN) an email through their support website. They said someone would get in touch with me.

They didn’t.

Returning after our vacation last week, we found our connectivity worse. Calling in meant waiting by the phone for return calls and staying home so they can come by and check our systems. But, last Friday, I called it in.

Yes, they could see that we were online but our signal was very weak. This would need to be called into the city IT.

The City of Ashland supports several local ISPs. They do so through a community-owned entity called Ashland Fiber Network (AFN). The city’s support helps reduce the cost, right, and provides an alternative to the big commercialized entities that dominate the field, like Charter, Century Link, Comcast (which all might now be the same company). I use Ashland Home Net to buy local and help defray that cost.

Friday our connection went out in the morning and returned in the afternoon,  apparently on its own. I called AHN for an update before they closed for the day. The agent said a ticket had been opened with the city. The city would call us. They would come by.

They didn’t. 

Our connectivity came and went through the evening.

Saturday found another outage that lasted several hours. Support was called. Messages were left. Nothing was heard back.

Sunday…the same.

Monday.

Internet connectivity was good in the morning. I returned from writing and walking at about 2 PM. My wife said the connection had dropped at noon. I called it in. The same agent that I spoke with on Friday told me, yes, a ticket with the city had been opened. The city will be calling me.

The hours passed…

I called them each hour to remind them my net was still down and that I hadn’t heard from the city. We heard back from an Ashland Home Net at 5:40 PM. Yes, a ticket had been opened with the city. Unfortunately, they were closed for the day. Nothing could be done.

Our connection returned at 6:53, and then left a hour hour later.

It came back again at 8:50, but dropped at 10:20, and didn’t come back.

We had a connection the next morning, Tuesday. Since I didn’t hear from Ashland Home Net or the city, I called AHN  to see what was going on. The agent said the city was backed up. They would get hold of me, but it would probably be another twenty-four hours.

“Really?” I said. “It’s already been ninety-six hours.”

“What?”

“We opened the ticket on Friday.”

“Your records show that the ticket was opened on Monday.”

“No.” I had my notes and referred to them.

“Oh, you’re right,” the agent said. “Okay, I’ll call the city now, and I’ll call you back.”

He did. “The city is sending someone out now.”

The city did. I saw their truck out there. I saw their agent. He went to the side of our house. I waited for him to come to the door.

He didn’t.

I waited for the city to call.

They didn’t.

Our connection was up and remained up, and it has since then. We’ve never heard anything back from the city or Ashland Home Net.

I’m going to give them a call when I get home today. I want to know what the problem was, or is, if it still exists, and what’s been done, or will be done about it.

Then I think I’ll check out other ISPs.

Just in case. Because right now, I’m not too damn pleased with Ashland Home Net, Ashland Fiber Network, and the City of Ashland.

7

Town Charm

Six deer walked along Siskiyou, and then decided to cross the street and go down Sherman by Safeway. They began across and then paused in the middle, as though confirming their direction. All the traffic stopped and waited for them to make up their mind and move on.

“Only in Ashland,” spectators said.

Yes, it’s part of the town’s charm.

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How Cool

I’d finished my writing and was doing my post-writing walk. Going up Main Street, I passed the Starbucks. A woman was reading at a table. I glanced up, stopped, and stared.

Yes, she was reading my book.

I was pleased.

She looked at me.

“Sorry,” I said. “I was trying to see what you’re reading.”

She glanced at the cover. “I just started it last night. I’m not familiar with the author.”

It took a lot for me to reply, “Well, I feel I should warn you that I’m the author so that you don’t accidentally insult me. Now that you know, you can deliberately insult me.”

She said, “No way. Are you really?”

“Yes. You probably got the book from one of the little libraries around town.”

“No, my friend gave it to me. Maybe she got it from a little library. She finished reading it and thought I would enjoy it.”

We chatted a little longer about the book and the little libraries, and my other novels. I didn’t know her or her friend. I walked away thinking, “How cool is that?” I was so pleased and engrossed, I almost walked in front of a car.

That would have definitely not have been cool.

7

A Time Pause

Walking around Ashland, especially in the commercial area downtown along Main Street and the Plaza, I encounter buildings constructed between one hundred and one hundred ten years ago. Their construction date is easily known because the year is on the building, which I like. But seeing such a proliferation of construction, I wonder what the town was then like, and the people’s vision of the future, and then consider what this town might look like one hundred years from now.

0

No Fun Places

My beautiful little sister – you know, the grandmother and great-grandmother – has her birthday today. Happy birthday, little sister! Naturally, I stream all manner of memories from the time around her birth. One bright, shiny moment was after she was brought home. We lived on McNary Boulevard in Wilkinsburg, PA, then. All my young neighborhood friends wanted to come into the house to see the baby. I don’t know what drove them to want to see her, but Mom obliged, you know, as long as we didn’t wake her. Let sleeping babies lie.

For her special day, my little sister – let’s call her Gina – wants to go to a restaurant where they get to spin the wheel. As I understand it, you spin the wheel, and you win gifts, or free food and drinks. Everyone else in the family did it for their birthday. Gina wants to do it, too. I understand; even I would like to spin the wheel. Alas, though, Ashland doesn’t have a place to spin the wheel.

Ashland doesn’t have fun restaurants like that. Dominated by the Oregon Shakespeare Festival and numerous art galleries, we’re very serious about food, here. We can blame demographics. Professionals dominate our permanent population. We have the theater scene, a forensics lab, university, and grade, middle, and high schools. They, and the city and the restaurants, create the job market, along with professionals to serve the professionals, like lawyers, architects, hair-stylists, and landscapers.

Most of our professionals are retired, with adult children. Food leans toward conservative, adult offerings, with interesting preparation and presentations. Pizza and pub-grub are offered as alternatives. The food is organic and natural, with meat from grass-fed, antibiotic-free animals. Vegetarian offerings are salads, black-bean burgers, or meals fixed with tofu substitutes. Vegan offerings are weak. The pub-grub is served with a helping of television screens to watch sports. We do have terrific breweries and wineries, and chocolatiers. You can drink and have fun, but that’s a pretty limited spectrum.

We also lack a good deli. The delis are embedded in the chain groceries – Safeway, Albertson’s, and Market of Choice. There’s no stand-alone deli to go in and have a sandwich made your way. Two Subways, one Wendy’s, and one Taco Bell represent our fast-food places. There is a Burger King on the Interstate exit, but that’s outside of town. That’s how serious Ashland is about food.

Even our coffee places are serious. Two Starbucks represent the mass consumer trends, but we tend toward places that roast their beans locally, or buy from someone who roasts their beans locally.

Here’s the tricky part. Our retired professionals have grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. They come to visit. Likewise, the theater-goers have children, and more people are moving up from California. These Caligonians have friends who visit, with their children. The thing is, children come. When they do, the most fun is the ice-cream shops, or pizzas. There’s no place to spin the wheel.

Yes, you can mark this up to demographics. Personally, I put it down as lack of imagination. One pub-grub place closes, another one opens in its place. Ditto, with the froo-froo eateries.

So you if you want a hormone-free, grass-fed burger, or an excellent omelet, beer, or wine, we’re your place. Just don’t expect to spin the wheel.

 

0

Little Free Libraries

Little Free Libraries are a wonderful idea. They started in two thousand nine, in Hudson, Wisconsin, when Todd Bol built the first one.

I’ve found seven in Ashland. I enjoy finding them. They’re all beautifully done little buildings on a post, and usually brightly colored, with a glass door on the front. In conjunction with Bol’s original vision, they resemble little school houses. Once found, they must be explored. Sometimes notes are attached.

Transitioning to another idea I like, September 18 was Hideabook day. It’s a thing Goodreads came up with to celebrate ten years of being Goodreads. Coupling my writing and publishing with marketing, Hideabook day, and Little Free Libraries, I bought seven copies of the paperback book version of “Life Lessons with Savanna,” signed them, and put them in the Little Free Libraries around town. I checked two today, and those copies were gone.

I hope people find and enjoy them all.

 

4

The A-B-C Ashland Walk

I usually walk a bit of Ashland before my writing session. Walking frees my thinking. Thinking is often useful when I’m trying to write. You can probably find some critics who claim that my writing is mindless, so they’re probably surprised to find that I actually think…sometimes.

This morning, I walked down Main Street to Lithia Park, and then crossed over and took Water Street to B Street. B Street was followed to Pioneer, where I turned left and went down to A Street. From there, it was easy; I walked A Street to 8th Street, then took 8th Street to B Street. I went down one side of B Street to Mountain, crossed B, and then walked the other side back down to Pioneer. At Pioneer, I returned to Lithia, turned left onto it, and then went up until I picked up C Street. C Street was then followed to 8th street. By then, it was warm and sunny, and I was sweaty, so I headed for the Boulevard Cafe on Siskiyou Boulevard.

See that? A, B, and C Streets.

It’s a pleasant walk in the morning. Predominantly residential areas, sidewalks shaded with trees keep it cool and comfortable. Grizzly Peak, other mountains, and the vineyards on the other side of the valley are frequently visible. Crosswalks are at most corners, and all the drivers encountered today acknowledged me crossing in the crosswalks, so my blood pressure stayed down.

The walk took an hour, and gained me three miles and fourteen flights of stairs, with the elevation changes. Those miles add up. My daily average for the last week is up to eight point zero four miles. Sweet.

My monthly average has increased to seven point five six miles, and my three month average has gone over six.

Progress, right? Sure. Every step counts.

0

Cause/Effect

I’m in the cross walk, crossing Siskiyou Avenue in Ashland, Oregon. Ashland is supposed to be a walker friendly town, but I walk this town a bit, using eighteen crosswalks a day on average. I expect, from experience, for drivers not to yield to a pedestrian at four to five crosswalks a day.

It’s worse in the mornings. I was caught between two cars in a crosswalk the other day. One was turning left. He ran the stop sign and ignored me in the crosswalk, giving me a jaunty wave as he missed me by two feet. Meanwhile, the SUV coming straight thought that I would be by, so he kept coming. But because I drew up to avoid behind hit by the other guy, he missed me by less than two feet.

Today, these five drivers didn’t yield. It wasn’t that they didn’t see me. Visibility was great, and there was plenty of time. In what seemed like they were giving me the finger, they sped up. Already exceeding the twenty-five miles per hour speed limit, they were zipping along at thirty-five to forty when they passed me, standing in the cross walk. I heard the lead white Ford F250 accelerate from the vehicle’s location thirty feet away. Felt its breeze as its mirrors whipped past my head. Saw the driver through his window two feet away as he went by.

It outraged me. I spun through the usual shit that I spin through when someone gives me the finger or blows me off. I know I’m not a perfect driver. Never have been, and never will be. But I try to minimize shit. I try to do right with others.

Others don’t always play nicely. That’s what it seemed like these five drivers were doing. For whatever fucking reasons going on in their heads, stopping to let someone cross the street wasn’t on their list of things to do.

After venting to myself, I thought about the more pragmatic impacts of a car hitting me. Yes, I know I would suffer an injury, the levels and extent T.B.D., but my friends and family can share multiple stories about the injuries I’ve endured. There wouldn’t be anything I could do about that.

Instead, I worried about my computer files. That’s my writing, dude. I’d neglected to back it up the other day when the reminder went off. I’d hit the snooze. When it went off again, I ignored it.

I imagined losing those files, and swore in a dozen different ways. The crosswalk encounter reminded me that the back up was required.  Time to plug the zip drives back in and back up the files, because, hey, you never know.

2

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