Broadband

"We grow small trying to be great." E. Stanley Jones

Upgrading to broadband is a complicated affair in New Zealand. Everything seems so easy in theory but the reality is a little different. It's a bit like political elections, you pay your money and you get only what the experts want you to get. Normally this is nothing but the minimum they can get away with and still call it progress. Like the recent election with negative results, broadband has still to prove itself functional. Both the politicians and high speed modem only work when it suits their purpose.

After following the instructions and loading the software, nothing happened. After two hours of eager anticipation, the computer was still looking for the modem. This was stupid. It was sitting directly in front of the unblinking screen. In due course my local expert arrived and declared I had inserted the plug into the wrong hole at the back of the computer. Somebody must have moved the right hole from A to B. He unplugged something and reloaded the software. Bingo! Two lights blinked and low and behold, instant broadband or whatever it's called. My expert departed in a shower of smirking glory.

Feeling contented with the level of my expertise, I zapped around the world seeking high
speed amusement. Then while touring South America, the screen beeped, the broadband lost weight and Rio stood still. The modem had stopped modeming or whatever modems are supposed to do. Rebooting several times seemed to fix the problem. Ten minutes later the modem went on strike again. Condescending to read the instructions, I called the free help line. After pushing buttons for a while I at last got a real human being with an Indian accent babbling in my ear. I followed his instructions, deleted the software, reloaded the same and waited for my genius to emerge. Smiling with high speed satisfaction I thanked him for his time and peered in the mirror to admire my incredible handsomeness. Unaided I had solved the problem by talking to the modem in a serious tone. Now I was a home grown IT expert.

Dammit! Curses and all that. The modem threw a wobbly and joined New Zealand's
dysfunctional government. It was all talk and no action. Even though there are about a
billion people in India, I managed to find the same chap even though the trains were not
running on time. I described the modem's inattention and failure to follow my instructions. Fear not said the curry munching expert, your ADSL modem is faulty and there's another in the post.

That night I tried again and after several low and beholds, three hours later the modem was still working. My weekly radio broadcast on Lewis News normally takes about fifty minutes to upload on dial-up, but under my new found genius it only took fifteen minutes to get from Wellington to Washington State. My brilliance manifested itself into several glasses of red wine. Naturally I faced the mirror with confidence and rosy cheeks. Grinning contentedly I shut down for the night.

Next morning the modem staged another bout of industrial action. I restarted it twice and prayed to the God of Chinese modems to fulfill his moral obligations. So far, so good. Maybe it pays to leave the computer going 24/7?

In a couple of days I will have two modems. Conceivably, I can play them off against each other? But to be fair, I can now babble on the phone and tour the world at the same time. There's no doubt about it. I'm a self-confessed genius. Time for a glass of wine?