I always felt you were a little overly concerned with keeping up with the Joneses; not in the sense that you cared what the neighbors thought, after all you did yard work in the front yard in your Speedo, but in the sense of having the latest technology. As a kid I thought this was cool; as an adult I thought, “Shit.”

I clearly remember one summer fretting all of scout camp, or maybe it was Camp Jack Hazard, perhaps the memory isn’t all that clear…regardless I was fretting over which new car you’d be picking me up in at the end of camp. Would it be the station wagon? The two door Corolla? I was thrilled you’d chosen the Chrysler LeBaron station wagon, not because of the rad faux wood paneling, but because of the digital clock above the radio. Coolest. Thing. Ever. (Digital clock? Must’ve been an entire digital display for the radio, could I really have been that impressed by a digital clock?) This family truckster wound up being a lemon, but serves as an example of the results of your desire to have the latest technology: it usually wound up going bad.

Just prior to your passing you decided to change your internet and TV service because you wanted a faster connection speed and clearer picture on the TV. When you told me I thought, “Shit, endless calls for tech support from me are in my future.” Well, instead of you calling me I had to call them; and let me just say, shit.

My first call resulted in a tech coming out to finish the internet installation you had begun with them.  That tech said it was an outside problem and he would have a line technician come out the following day to take care of that.  The second technician came out, did some work, but did not finish because he lacked the proper equipment; so another tech would come out the next day.

Tech number 3 came out, but was entirely confused as to what he was supposed to do and rather than call a supervisor for instructions he decided to poke around a bit then leave….having disconnected the phone line. Who does that?! “Gosh, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do, so let me just turn off the landline, leave, and not tell anyone.”  This resulted in a level of hell I was unaware existed: two hours on the cell being transferred to agent after agent and having to retell this tale each time.  Shit.

Tech number 4 came out, saved the day and all is now good, but man I knew this was going to be trouble.

No matter in the end.  Your penchant for being up on the latest technology was a reflection of your insatiable appetite for learning which is a trait I always admire; though it occasionally drove me crazy.


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