WHAT I DID ON MY CHRISTMAS HOLIDAY

For some time now I’ve been thinking we should downsize our Shaw Direct package.  We don’t watch even a third of what we are subscribed to and it’s not cheap.  Surely to goodness there is a better deal for the farmer and his wife.

As much as this was a good idea in the abstract, it was not to be taken lightly.  First I needed input from the primary tv watcher. There was no way I wanted to hear any whining about me cancelling his favorite shows.  I requested a list from him.  And then I requested it again.  The third time did the trick.

Maybe I sounded a little more insistent this last time.  Due to charges on my credit card (that I did not make!) I cancelled it and ordered a new one.  I then went to my online Shaw account and recorded the new card’s number following their prompts.  I considered the deal done until I got the next e-bill and the latest payment had not gone through.  I checked it out and the new number showed at ‘pay method’ so I chalked it up to bad timing and that this would take of itself by the next bill.  I was wrong, it did not.

Strange how you can pay too high a price for tv one month at a time and let it slide, but when you get a bill for three months together, the wastefulness hits a nerve.  Something needed to be done and I required that list from the farmer to begin.  For sure my third request was more demanding.

During my what’s-up-with-my-bill excursions into MY SHAW DIRECT account the website told me how easy they were to work with – like, if they repeated it often enough it would somehow be true.  The only things that are easy to do is signing up for additional services.  Or maybe to change your address; I don’t know I didn’t try that one.  But, if you want to figure out what’s wrong with nonpayment on your account, or want to realign your package to suit two old people – well, navigating that journey requires guidance. 

By a human. 

In an on-going conversation. 

Until all the problems have been resolved. 

If anyone of you who have gone looking to Shaw for this you just sat back in your chairs, snorted coffee out your noses, and said “Good luck with that!”

Beginning with the mystical, magical, all-powerful 4 digit code you need to talk to someone when you call the help number plastered all over their website.  They take you all through who-you-are and what-are-you-looking-for menu and then ask for this code that you know nothing about.  I’ve become very savvy about writing down everything when I talk to these companies and I have no record of any such 4 digit code!  I rechecked these notes and tried again thinking there must be another option, or at least a way to acquire a 4 digit code.  I ran into the same dead end every time.  You can’t pass this door without a code; you cant get a code unless you pass this door.  I quit for the day.

My ire was reawakened the next day when I received a phone call saying that if I didn’t do something about my bill they were going to unplug my tv, or some such threat.  It was just a recording of course, no human to help straighten things out.  No hint as to what my 4 digit code might be either, strangely enough.

Off to my account page again!  On the very same page as this huge amount owed is the proof that I have given them the new credit card number.  Why can’t they just use it to pay the bill?  Under that though, is where you are invited to give them another credit card number.  I’m not about to do that, but let’s just see what’s going on behind the scene?  Would you believe that they haven’t changed the card at all?  Even though the top page has the new number, their records are still clinging to the past.  I paid one month’s worth to see if it would go through and quit for the day.

That was only one problem solved though.  Back to the drawing board on how to downsize our tv plan.  Back to their website for some more frustration.  They offer different size deals with different personal choice options.  This is hardly helpful if a person doesn’t know what they already have.  On top of that, they offer networks and we customers understand channels; it’s like we’re not even speaking the same language.  That is, if we were even talking, which of course we’re not … because, you know, the 4 digit code thing.

There is however, a little chat bubble in the corner offering ‘help’.  I click on it, fill in my who-are-you and how-can-I-help info … and get asked for my 4 digit code.  Of course.  Who didn’t see that coming?  While I sat there contemplating my previous worst customer service experience ever a message popped up saying the ‘helpers’ didn’t work weekends anyway.  Of course.  I quit for the day.

On my next non-weekend day I tried again.  This time, before they closed me down for not having a 4 digit code I filled that blank in with a message stating I didn’t have one.  I didn’t think this was going to help but be darned if I didn’t get a message that I was 69^th in the waiting queue.  I don’t know if I was supposed to celebrate that I had actually made it to a queue, or not.  Mostly I was amazed that one actually existed.  But, at #69 I wasn’t even tempted; I quit for the day.

Randomly, on different days, I would go through the motions:  #62.  #71.  #74.

And then, yesterday at 10:03 miraculously I was given #21.  I poured myself a coffee and settled in for the long haul.  This was going to be my day.

I texted with friends.  I straightened up my desk.  I did a puzzle on my iPad.  I played several games on my phone.  I told the farmer to make his own dinner.  I did another puzzle.  The number continued downward.  11 and 5 took a long time, 10-9-8-7 and 4-3 went fast, no doubt they either gave up or died of old age. 

Finally at 1:13 I was asked what my problem was.  Talk about a loaded question, but I know what it feels like to be yelled at for something I have no control over, I thanked her for her attention to my problems and slowly but surely we unravelled all of the frustration I had built up over the past month and a half.  I am now the owner of a much smaller tv package, I understand how it works, and my payment method has been verified.

I have also been granted my very own personal 4 digit code! 

It's been quite the journey.  As well, I subscribed to Netflix over the holidays, it took the farmer just over a week to discover binge watching.  As for myself, the reason I want tv is for the news and lately I can either watch that or sleep through the night, but not both.  Maybe I should have let them unplug our tv, after all.

But I do have my 4 digit code.

 

 

COOKING WITH A HANDICAP

Most people wouldn’t figure baking as an athletic activity but the Christmas goody-making season in this house has likely been responsible for wearing off more calories in steps and stair climbing than in creating them in the first place.  Throw in the aggravation of discovering – YET AGAIN! – that the oven had decided to call it a day before its work was done and you have a peek into my December.  It’s been a (half-baked) slice.

I guess I should have seen this coming.  For a couple years now (or more, I have no concept of time) my oven had taken to informing me that it didn’t have certain functions.  Just out of the blue when I went to use it I would be informed on it’s little message screen that it didn’t have the ‘bake’ feature.  Or the ‘broil’ feature.  Or the ‘convection’ or ‘self-clean’ features.  Being as these things are why I have an oven I found this very annoying.  It graciously offered me its clock feature and was happy to let me turn on the oven light, but other than that it would not obey my commands.  This is very frustrating when you have a batch of buns ready to bake.

The first time it happened there was a lot of button punching, a certain amount of off-color language, and a short time trying to decide which friend would be most likely to offer me their oven for half the buns before I remembered a time-honored, never fail computer that fix might work.  There had been a power outage not too long before and maybe this was a computer brain-fart problem.  Sure enough, a trip downstairs to the breaker box, a flip off and then back on, and I was back in business.  The buns were saved and I did a little victory dance because I had thought of this on my own.  A repairman’s milage and wages would have cost in the $200.00 range.  Yay me!

Time went on and many more things were baked and roasted and broiled.  Every-once-in-a-while my oven would try to play this trick again, stubbornly insisting it didn’t have the regular heating features that I bought it for.  It always happened after a power outage so I recognised where the defiant attitude was coming from and I knew how to get it back on track.  We carried on.

In the beginning the trip to the breaker box took longer, but with practise I could do it in half the usual time.  There was no need to look for which breaker it was on the panel, I knew it by heart.  It’s #19 and #21, left side, almost at the bottom; in this past month I’ve visited them so often we’re like best friends.

For the longest time it kept playing the same trick (again, I have no idea of how long this has been going on), but looking back I realize that the frequency of its ‘job actions’ had increased.  Still, I knew how to ‘fix’ it so I let my mis-guided confidence assure me I was in control. 

Meanwhile my oven plotted against me.

In the middle (literally) of baking Christmas tarts my oven came up with a new game.  I would give it my commands-  BAKE-350-START  - and away it would go, preheating just like it was supposed to; its little message center keeping me abreast of its accomplishments.  When it reached the desired temperature I would put my tarts in the oven, set the timer, and go about multitasking like women do.  At some private moment my oven would then say to itself “That’s enough for today.” and decide 250 was its new favorite temperature.  It wouldn’t inform me of this though.  Oh no! I would return when the timer buzzed to find a warm-ish oven and half-baked tarts.  With no time for this nonsense I used my old fix on this fresh problem and took on an unanticipated fitness program in the middle of my Christmas rush. 

It wasn’t all bad – there was very little guilt about extra butter tarts with the amount of flights of stairs I was doing.

2025 dawned clear and bright.  We barbequed steaks for supper (the barbeque isn’t computerized and does what it’s told) and early the next morning I called an appliance store.  I had thought we would fix the old one but when their records showed that this one was 11 years old we had a change of heart and ordered a new one instead.  It’s been ordered and should be here by midmonth.  I see a lot of crockpot meals in our future until then.

 I really should keep up with the exercise though.