A carnival of technology

Day 1, 7pm: I’m fairly certain that three of those lights on the modem were illuminated when I left this morning. Time to call Speakeasy about number three, the one that says the phone part is working.

I talk to Benjamin, who does some loop tests that seem to indicate the modem is bad. Bummer. He puts in a ticket for a loaner modem and gives me the VPI/VCI settings in case I find that other modem I have stored somewhere. It’s too late for the UPS pickup, so the loaner won’t arrive until Monday. I wonder if there’s anything on TV tonight.

Day 2: Back when I was living in Cumberland Glen I learned an important lesson regarding lightning and phone lines. I don’t think I ever bought that second Speedstream, but after I moved out and switched to Speakeasy the first gave me one spare which, since I now since take the precaution of always running the phone line through a surge protector, seems like enough.

Keeping all of my config files in version control has been helpful. All I remembered about the Speedstream is that you configure it by telneting into some IP that it sets itself to. I couldn’t remember what that was, but the network config file from two years back had the settings for the third NIC I used in that weird apartment setup, and from there I could figure out that I needed to get to 10.0.0.1. I dug the Speedstream out of the closet, set everything up, plugged it into the phone, and nothing. Looks like a good night to read a book.

Day 3: Benjamin called this afternoon. Apparently he messed up the ticket for the loaner modem, so it won’t be shipped until Monday, arriving Tuesday. That’s a real shame. I had my schedule figured out with my therapy so that I could leave work around 2 or 3 and be home to accept the package rather than trying to deal with that will call pickup mess like I usually do. As a concession, if the modem fixes the problem I can keep it and not pay for it. Plug/unplug tests still seem to indicate that all the wire is there but the modem isn’t kicking in, so the theory is now that two modems went bad. My confidence is dropping.

Day 5: I had an idea of trying to use my cell phone as a modem. I doubt that it’s even possible. T-Mobile has two different data plans: the expensive one where you get to use hot spots and stuff, and the one where I pay $5/month and get to read the New York Times a paragraph at a time on my phone at lunch. Some sites suggest that this cheap plan is enough to squeak my way past the restrictions and get real web access, but it’s also possible that something on the WAP proxy I’d need to go through will keep me locked out. I figure it’s at least worth a shot.

I finally have all of the software smuggled home from work on a USB jumpdrive (have we settled on that name for those things? I think I will.). My attempts at just throwing a chat script at ppp failed miserably, so I went with dcantrell’s recommendation of GPRS Easy Connect. It requires a whole mess of perl modules and gtk1, and finding the packages and dependencies without the help of yum wasn’t the most fun ever. My phone isn’t listed in the supported phone list, but I figure it’s probably close enough.

I install all the software, configure GPRS Easy Connect to pretend I have a similar Motorola, hit the big button, and nothing. It can’t even see the phone. Weird. I think it’s time to hit the movie store again.

Day 6: Huh, Speakeasy sprung for morning delivery. The UPS guy slipped the package under my door mat (the door mat that I actually bought is in front of the apartment downstairs and across the breezeway. Some guys pressure washed everything a while back and rearranged the mats, but I don’t care enough to switch them back), and we wished each other a good morning when I opened the door to see him rushing back down the stairs. I unpack the modem, plug everything in, and nothing. Time to call Speakeasy.

I work my way back into the tech support pool, and this time I talk to Kirt. Kirt runs some more tests and gets findings back that suggest the line is broken. The Prado is being all torn up to make way for a Target and a Home Depot and some other crap, and maybe my phone line runs east to get to the CO to the south. Who knows. Another possibility, and one that would be ironically delightful, is that Ma Bell ran a test on the line, and, after failing to find a voice circuit because I don’t have a voice line, unplugged it. Lines, from Speakeasy’s position, are Covad’s problem, so Kirt calls up Covad. Covad works in four hour availability blocks, so I give him points in the next three days for when they can show up, and armed with a big pile of time he puts in a ticket and promises to call back. In the meantime I go to work.

Kirt calls back and tells me that Covad will show up tomorrow morning, but, now that he’s given Benjamin’s test results another read, he finds it suspicious that the loop length didn’t change for the plug/unplug test this time. He wants me to try a different phone cord, since maybe the one that came with the loaner modem is no good, so I get his number and agree to call back when I get home for lunch.

Different cords didn’t get me a sync, and I couldn’t get ahold of Kirt. I call Benjamin once I figure the afternoon shift has started on the west coast or wherever they are, explain the situation, run another plug/unplug test with an old cable (and get the old results. Maybe that cord really is bad, or maybe I really did plug the DSL line into the phone jack. I’m not used to having that extra jack open), and tell him that I went down to the phone box and noticed it was unlocked, so I sort of do have access. There’s no jack out there, though, so it doesn’t help.

Benjamin can’t find the Covad ticket, so apparently Kirt didn’t really do anything. Benjamin is much more dire about visits from Covad. If the issue is internal wiring, it’ll be $200 for the dispatch. If I miss their arrival in that four hour block it’s $150. Benjamin figures I could get the apartment management to look at the wiring, but I figure Covad works faster, so I ask him to make that call. Again. Maybe.

Benjamin calls back. So Covad’s ticket system and Speakeasy’s ticket system aren’t playing nice together for whatever reason, Kirt really did set up that appointment and Covad really is coming out tomorrow and none of the tests make any damn sense yet so who knows what will happen. House comes on tonight; I wonder how long this Survivor-style elimination thing will last.

Day 7: Covad calls. The Covad tech is going to head up to the CO first to find out what the deal is there; apparently everyone using the card at the other end of the line—the thing that attaches the phone back to the Internet—is down. Was I the only one to call? This is so weird. Covad tech will call back in an hour or so. I make another pot of coffee. I realize that I haven’t made my usual online order with Martinez and am about to use the last of my coffee beans. I guess I’ll be slumming it on Friday.

Covad calls back. He does some more plug/unplug tests, hems and haws and talks with some other guy and yep, the card’s bad. He’ll put in a ticket and mark all the holy shit flags and best case is that the late night shift will pick it up and replace the card around five or six tomorrow morning. Time to go to work. I wonder if I would have been charged $150 for not being home to unplug a phone cord.

Day 8: Still only two lights. Time to call Speakeasy. I dive back into the support pool, and this time I talk to Celene. I explain the situation again, she mentions something about the vendor ticket system being all wonky lately and she calls Covad and calls me back. Covad has a ticket open to replace the card at the CO between 8 and 12 tomorrow morning. I better not be paying for this week.

Day 9: Well shit damn. It’s the Internet. Time to leave for therapy, ten minutes late like usual. I wonder if the bone doctor signed me off to walk yet.