Tag: Internet

DIY, Kind Of

Telephone charging. That’s what gave me my answer. Of course, I wouldn’t have been there if I’d not taken shortcuts. But I like shortcuts.

Our net connection went dark last Friday night. After rebooting, I figured, ah, something wrong with the local provider. When it was out the next morning, I reported it to see what they said. The tired sounding female on the other end said, “No one else is reporting any problem in your area.” She followed up with basic questions. What lights do you have? Are all the connections tight? After my answers, she said, “We’ll need to escalate.” Like, that was all she had. “You’re get a call between now and Monday morning.”

The cable modem was showing the ethernet was up and the power was on, but nothing being received or sent to the provider, even after reports. T’ain’t a flicker. I checked my notes. Cable modems normally last five years. This one was five years old. Time for a new one.

Basic research was conducted about what worked with the provider’s network and what didn’t, and if there would be anything to look for to match it with my router. A few reviews were read on the phone, then we went shopping. I bought a simple Arris SB6 series which wasn’t too pricy and was said to fit my network. We plugged it in and got lights for everything, so it was the cable modem, but couldn’t connect to the network. I knew from past experience it was because the provider had to activate it on their end.

Monday morning, I called it in and they brought it up. All was well. Until…

When I returned from my coffee writing session, my wife darkly informed me that our net is not fixed. “It keeps going out.”

I tracked that. Yes, it was going out every six to ten minutes, rebooting, then coming back online. Connections were checked. All was good. WTF?

I noodled it over for several hours. Plugged in new cables. No change. Did research. Nobody had anything else. But the cable connection didn’t make sense to me anyway. Looked like the modem was going off, then we were losing the connection. Then it rebooted. Could be an attack but doubtful.

Then it hit. Power. Microvolts and amps.

Like in the phone chargers and Fitbits.

We’ve learned that not all chargers work with the trackers and phones. Minute differences cause problems. That could be the case now with the cable modem. At least, I needed to check and eliminate it.

The cable modem’s power is embedded in a very sophisticated system that I set up thirteen years ago. Color coded and everything. Hard as hell to reach. So when I bought the new cable modem, I used the old power line and supply. Now, I dug out the proper line, disconnected it and plugged in the new one. Everything booted up properly. The cable modem stayed on and the connection remained solid.

I put everything back together. Lesson learned, again. Beware of shortcuts.

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Saturday’s Wandering Thought

Websites seemed to be growing worse. Almost since the inception of the web, there was clickbait, slugs, ledes, and headlines to invite surfers to click and browse. Too many of these were outright misleading, trying to sensationalize political divisions and celebrity behavior.

Grammar declines. Punctuation mistakes, yes, and typos, which can happen, but some sentences are read several times before the fact is accepted that the sentence is I&I – incomplete and incoherent.

Now, bad links are blooming. Click on a link and it takes you to the wrong place. Is hijacking back? It seems like just weak execution. Whatever it is, it’s another modern, first-world annoyance.

Don’t get him started on the pathetic search results which are often returned.

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Tuesday’s Wandering Thought

Tuesday found another tech irritation gaining momentum. Apps and search boxes always tried finishing his typing for him. They were often wrong and usually a distraction. Almost as bad was when he shoved his mouse aside to clear a view of what he was typing, only to have the cursor land on something else, amplifying whatever was in that box, whether he was interested or not. The pages were just messy with annoying ‘helpful’ distractions.

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Another DIY Project

I noticed that the air blowing out of our furnace vents seems weak this year. Something needed to be done. Shouting, “To the net,” I did some research. The first thing I did was change the filter, which helped — that rascal was filthy. I then set a calendar reminder to check and change it every three months. Then I visited the crime scene for clues.

Our furnace is a Tempstar L9 unit horizontally mounted in the attic above the garage. I’ve been up there to deal with problems before so I’m comfortably familiar with it. It’s our original unit, so it’s almost sixteen years old. I’m embarrassed to admit, the blower hasn’t been cleaned since the capacitor failed ten years ago. I decided to do two things, based on research: clean the blower and increase its speed.

Both were easy, with the second part being easiest. The heating and cooling systems use the same blower and ducts (yeah, duh). But the wiring on my system can only specify that one of them has the higher blower setting, and that is the A/C. So I switched it so the heating has that setting for the winter. Before I started messing with the wires, I perused the manual’s wiring table and instructions and then photographed the original wire placement with my phone. I’ve learned to do that last anytime I’m dealing with switches and wires. It’s saved my butt a few times.

Now it’s all much improved. I’m once again grateful to the net and its helpful videos. Finishing, I set another calendar reminder for the summer, so I can go back up in there and switch over the wires for the air conditioning. Have a good one. Cheers

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The Red Mustang Dream

I was a young man, as I often am in my dreams, probably in my thirties. I was in the home of a woman I knew. It was a standard modern place but basic and clean. I was standing in a dining area by a patio slider. She wasn’t there, but two other young women and a young man were present. They were about ten years plus younger than me. We in the middle of a conversation in which I related to them that they were ‘taking the wrong medicine’ and told them what medicine they should be taking. The man walked out to get it even though I told him that I had it with me. One of the women left and the home owner returned. She asked what was going on so the other young woman and I explained it, with me doing most of the talking, telling her that they’d been using the wrong medicine. She appreciated me correcting them because one of them was her niece (I never knew which). The young man returned then, without medicine because he could ‘t find it as “everything is closed”. I gave him a huge black backpack which contained the medicine he and the others needed.

As the young man thanked me, the other woman returned and the homeowner announced that she was leaving. She told us we could stay or go, it was our choice. I said I was going because I needed to do other things. The young man left with me. We walked down a busy small-town street for a bit, and then separated. I went over and got into my Mustang. Red, it was a 1965 convertible in very good condition, highly polished, with a white interior and convertible top. I needed work on it, so I took it to this little place. I backed into a spot and then got out to get a number and get in line, because that’s how it worked there. As I was waiting, another person arrived and backed his car into the Mustang.

I was upset, more so because he shrugged it off and walked away. He was much smaller than me and a little younger. I confronted him, pointing out the damage. Body damage, on the driver’s side front, was very slight, but the tire was torn up. Looking at it, the tire was made of white foam mattress and had lost a large chunk from the accident. He talked to the man about it but he claimed it wasn’t his fault, went and got a number and got into line.

I was upset. He’d hit my car and wouldn’t take responsibility for it. A friend arrived and I told him about what had happened. The guy who’d hit my car was in line with several large companions, who had been there when I arrived. My friend said, “Know how to start a confrontation?” I shook my head and he said, “Let me show you.”

He walked up and attempted to grab the younger guy’s nut sack, but one of the big other guys instead did it to him, saying, “You trying to start a confrontation?”

That didn’t make sense to me. As my friend was released and limped off, departing the business, I decided that I would leave. As I went to depart, I encountered another young man with thick dark hair. He was looking into the shop and asked me if I would recommend it. I told him that it depended on what he needed and how badly he wanted it, but I was disappointed in the shop and told about the accident. I asked him what he was looking for. When he told me, I said, “I recognize you. I read about your story on the net.”

He verified that was him, and then the homeowner from the dream’s beginning arrived. As the young man looked across at her, he said, “Excuse me, that’s my mother.”

Dream end.

A note that the dream Mustang reminded me that Dad had a 1965 Mustang when he was stationed in Germany in the late 1960s, blue with a white convertible top and black interior, with a 289 and four speed. I wasn’t with him in Germany, but he showed me pictures of him with the car with its top down in Paris.

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The Cycles of Mail

The cycles of life came in the mail. Credit card invitations when he was young. Cable and Internet deals in his middle age. House and window cleaning services as he aged, followed by landscaping and financial planning, then house-painting and payday loans.

As he reached his mid-fifties, AARP became friendly, as did companies like Prudential, offering planning assistance, worrying if he was saving enough for retirement. Cruise and vacation suggestions came every week. Everyone became concerned about his estate and his will. Hearing-aid flyers were frequently received. Then came funeral and cremation services, with coupons and discounts!

Reaching his mid-sixties brought flyers and letters for Medicare plans. Of course, every two years through it all were pieces from politicians, PACs, and political parties asking for a little money, pleading their cases, railing against one another, and demanding change.

Coming with weekly persistence regardless of the year or his age were advertisements from his local stores, catering to the holidays and time of year.

Fondly he remembered his past mail as he perused the latest offering from an assisted living residence and dropped it into the recycling bin, letting his imagination run wild about what his future mail would bring.

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Worth Noting

David Walden, Computer Scientist at Dawn of Internet, Dies at 79

I worked for IBM for over a decade after retiring from the military and became aware of David Walden’s name while I was there. I’d heard of the work of the I.M.P. before that while reading about ARPANET. People like Walden contributed to this thing called the net and develop it to the point where we have the connectivity of today. I take the net for granted, complaining about it when it’s slow or won’t load, along with the work that Walden did, but it’s pretty amazing when you regard its technology.

RIP, David Walden

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