DEBRIS.COMgood for a laugh, or possibly an aneurysm

I signed up for Pac*Bell DSL as soon as it was available, about three years ago. I was so excited about it, I even opted for the high-end Business account, which at $300+/month was a lot cheaper than what I’d been paying previously. And even though Pac*Bell never managed to deliver the promised bandwidth, I kept paying the stiff MRC, because I needed the higher upstream bandwidth. And so I paid them thousands and thousands of dollars over the years.

After I moved out of the house, I cancelled the DSL account. This was in the middle of the billing cycle, and yet Pac*Bell billed me for the full MRC. I put the bill aside in expectation of receiving a corrected final bill, and was dismayed (although not particularly surprised) to find that the final bill also requested the full month’s amount.

I steeled myself against disappointment and called the company. This is always an adventure, if when you think “adventure” you discard all connotations of fun and instead think of something unpleasant that you will survive but regret, like slamming your hand in a car door or running out of gas near the crack house under the freeway. I was transferred — no lie — seven times. I had to explain the situation seven times. By number three I introduced my plight with a command, “Do not transfer me!” This only worked the last time, of course.

Clerk #7 was one of the handful of competent operators they sprinkle through the organization just to make sure some productive work occasionally gets done. She was able to correct my account. I immediately wrote a check for the balance and put it in the mail.

A week later, I got a phone call from a collection agency. That’s Pac*Bell service for you… It might take them six weeks to install a line, but they’re lightening-quick on the billing, even after they’ve been paid.

BTW, I am aware that SBC took over Pac*Bell’s DSL service, but I prefer the old name, because it allows me to quote Kurt Vonnegut: “The * is a picture of my asshole.”

More on “horrific” Pac*Bell DSL service: DSLreports.com’s Pac*Bell DSL Forum

If you’ve lived long at all, you know about inertia. Or maybe, if you don’t remember physics class, you think of it as momentum. Either way, the concept I’m referring to is that it’s easier to keep something moving than to start it again after it stops.

I consider this when I’m packing my gym bag. You see, I don’t very much enjoy going to the gym. I’ve been doing it three times a week for 17 months, and I readily admit exercise has changed my life. I don’t dread going, but it’s not something I particularly look forward to. It’s sort of like brushing my teeth — mostly I’m afraid of what would happen if I stopped.

Still, with all the post-move craziness around here lately, I’ve missed a few workouts. Thanks to inertia, the missing gets easier with each miss (or, more accurately, the restarting gets harder). And so lately I’ve been pushing myself to get back onto a regular gym schedule, before I end up guilty and corpulent, with a 3/4-lb burger in one hand, a greasy smear on the chin, and a thought balloon reading, “You shouldn’t have missed that first workout,” and another thought balloon reading, “Could you pass me a Soytzel?”

I was relieved to learn that my brief neglect did not have an immediate impact on my weight: I’d taken a week off, ostensibly to unpack but really to mope around the new house, lamenting my dial-up connection and sensing the entire digital world flowing by, just beyond the reach of my pitiful 28.8k analog connection… and when I went back to the gym the next week I found I’d somehow lost three pounds, leaving me at a 20-year low, at which point a stiff wind threatened to blow me off my deck and I scurried inside and quickly baked up a batch of focaccia for 40.

How did I lose weight after I stopped exercising? Perhaps I’ve reset my metabolism. Or perhaps it’s that box of Dexa-Trim I choke down at breakfast every day*.

Anyway, I’m back into a sort of transient workout schedule again, while I cope with some high-pressure work projects and a body full of toxins left by the season’s harvest parties. (I actually ingested goat, which — I checked — is not a vegan dish, I regret to say. Don’t tell my colon.)

*A note for the sarcasm-impaired: I don’t really eat speed for breakfast, unless Trader Joe’s puts in it the granola. No, fructose doesn’t count.

Griping about analog modem speed seems quaint in the era of DSL and cable modems, except of course for those of us who live out of range of DSL and cable. Nevertheless, this article is fascinating: It’s the Latency, Stupid.

On the matter of line speed vs. capacity — the distinction that is rarely made or understood — Cheshire writes:

Would you say that a Boeing 747 is three times “faster” than a Boeing 737? Of course not. They both cruise at around 500 miles per hour. The difference is that the 747 carries 500 passengers where as the 737 only carries 150. The Boeing 747 is three times bigger than the Boeing 737, not faster.

Now, if you wanted to go from New York to London, the Boeing 747 is not going to get you there three times faster. It will take just as long as the 737.

In fact, if you were really in a hurry to get to London quickly, you’d take Concorde, which cruises around 1350 miles per hour. It only seats 100 passengers though, so it’s actually the smallest of the three. Size and speed are not the same thing.

On the other hand, If you had to transport 1500 people and you only had one aeroplane to do it, the 747 could do it in three trips where the 737 would take ten, so you might say the Boeing 747 can transport large numbers of people three times faster than a Boeing 737, but you would never say that a Boeing 747 is three times faster than a Boeing 737.

Here’s the thing about being first-time homeowners: you don’t really know how to do anything. You don’t even know who to call. At least, I didn’t, so we suffered with ill-fitting doors, and gross shag carpet, and bathrooms “decorated” in realistic splash patterns in every shade of iron (because that’s what was in the water). But over time we built a team of remodeling and construction experts: electrician, carpenter, painter, landscaper, tiler, etc… even a guy named Vern whose specialty is creating gravel driveways without ever getting out of the dumptruck.

This is only our second time in a used house, but previous experience makes a huge difference. We don’t have the patience, or the zero-balance checking account of first-timers. And now, we know who to call.

So, this time, the faded shag carpet only lasted two weeks. The broken irrigation system was immediately repaired and expanded (you didn’t think I was going to spend an hour a day watering the garden?). The water softener will be installed next Thursday.

None of this frantic activity leaves a lot of time for writing, of course. I haven’t set my drums up yet either, or, I hate to admit, even begun to finish unpacking. On the bright side, I don’t seriously expect I’ll ever finish unpacking — so that’s at least one thing scratched off the list.

Kevin Smith is directing Fletch Won?!

With Jason Lee as a young Irwin Fletcher, paying homage to Chevy Chase?!

Here’s the book: Fletch Won.

More: Fletch Won news from Ain’t It Cool News.