This damn system ate my post. I don’t have time right now to rewrite it. Dammit!

I probably shouldn’t complain about it too much, as this is the only time this new posting system has done this, versus my previous method of posting which seemed to screw up once a month.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

My brother and me, well, to be cliché, we’re about as different as night and day. I’m an inch under six feet, he’s two or three inches over six feet. I’ve filled out a bit with age, I think he’s gotten even thinner. I’ve a lighter skin tone, he has a darker skin tone. My hair has darkened from blonde to brown over the years, his hair . . . I don’t know what color it is naturally nowadays. I have no “body art,” he has an eyebrow ring and paints his fingernails black. People who meet us together are always surprised to learn we’re brothers.

And we couldn’t be more different in personality, either. I like being alone, quietly with myself, even anonymity, he likes groups, loud music, and attention. I’m a writer and editor, he’s a rock drummer. People who get to know us together start questioning our claim to be related.

As kids and teenagers, our interests were so vastly different that sometimes it’s like we grew up in two different worlds. My music was pop and soft rock, his music was hard rock and metal. My hobbies were Dungeons & Dragons and computers, his hobbies were break dancing and trick biking. My dress and appearance leaned toward preppy, his leaned toward metalhead. We moved in social circles so separate that some of our friends never saw or knew anything about our brother. Granted, some of this separation came from being four and a half years older and younger than each other (I’m the older, he’s the younger). But still, we grew up in the same house, with the same parents.

I moved out of home at a younger age, but I always stayed within a few hours of my hometown. He lived at home for longer, but when he moved away, he moved the hell away — two states away. But part of our reasons for our chosen new homes is because my career lead me to the more technological part of the South, and his lead him to the more musical part.

If you’ve read the “Who’s Bullgrit” link at the top of this page, you know, basically, what I do for a living. My brother is a musician. A drummer. What? I CAN’T HEAR YOU, YOU’LL HAVE TO SHOUT! Sorry. That’s an inside joke. Drums, like gunshots, are much, much louder in person than you’d think from audio recordings.

“Brogrit” has been in a number of bands over the years, and toured through a few states in the South. His name and picture are on some CDs, and that’s pretty damn cool.

Our worlds are so different. I’m married with two children, he’s still single. My job is filled with quiet and solitude, his is filled with noise and crowds. But when we get together, really in our hometown or virtually through the Internet, we’re so much brothers. We’re competitive to a fault. Sadly, nowadays, we rarely get together, even through the ‘net.

A few years ago, we’d get online and play Day of Defeat together. In Day of Defeat, the players team up on either the American or German side in a WWII battle — it’s a squad-level combat, first-person shooter. There’d be up to 16 or so players per side, but with a random collection of players from around the world, there was no guarantee of any kind of team play — sometimes you couldn’t even hope for real team play. But when brogrit and I teamed up, it was loads of fun. We knew, absolutely, that we could each rely on the other to provide cover, support, and communication. I’ve never played an online game with anyone else who I totally meshed with that well. Our normal competitiveness seemed to fade away as we played together against the in-game enemies.

It’s interesting how brotherly rivalry works that way.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

The cable guy showed up at the first minute of the two hour window we were told. Thank you cable guy.

It seems that the thunderstorm killed my ethernet port and my wireless router. So, he connected the modem to my computer through a USB port. I went and bought a new wireless router, but now I can’t connected it between the modem and my computer because it doesn’t have a USB jack. For now, until I can take my desktop box in to a repair shop (maybe in a couple days), Cowgrit will have to use my desktop computer for her Internet needs.

We went a week without Internet access at home (I had a connection at work), and poor Cowgrit was about at her wit’s end. She had no email, she couldn’t get to her regular Web sites, she was half cut off from her normal world.

I was in my hometown over the past weekend, so I was able to post a couple of days through my mom’s Internet connection. And the short notes I posted announcing my Internet problem, I posted from work. Even though no one would probably notice or care that I was posting to my blog from work, I don’t want to make that a habit.

So, yay, I’m back.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

So after the failed fix for our Internet connection on Thursday, I started calling the cable company number again the first thing Friday morning. Surprisingly, I got past the automated system and actually got a live tech on the line.

The first thing the tech did was ask for our account information. Now this is something that annoys me about any help system that uses an automated system as the gateway to getting a live tech. The automated system gets account information in the beginning, but when you get to the live tech, they still have to ask for account information. Why does the automated system not forward that stuff on to the tech when you get transferred?

I explained that a thunderstorm had knocked out our connection, and that we had gotten a new modem, but we were still without the Internet. The tech had me go through all the basic procedures that I had already gone through before, on my own: shut everything down, restart in a certain order, etc. Unfortunately, my keyboard stopped working.

I have a wireless keyboard, so there are a  number of things that could have been going wrong. I tried a couple of quick fixes, but they didn’t work. I told the tech I’d have to call back once I figured out my keyboard. She gave me a ticket number for my call, and I hung up. I ended up just plugging in an old wired keyboard. Then I called back.

I went through the automated system, again giving my account info and going through the first level of “diagnostic” that I had to do every time I had called before (just before getting disconnected). Then I was connected to another live tech. I gave the tech my account information and my ticket number.

This tech again had me perform the basic procedures for checking my system. We tried some more options but nothing was working. This tech needed to transfer me to another department to see if they could help me. Fine, let’s resolve this. He transferred me, but I waited on hold for 30 minutes, and then got disconnected. DAMMIT!

I called back, went through the damn automated system again — giving my account info, doing the basic diagnostic — and got through to another live tech (my third of the morning). I explained what had happened a few minutes ago, and he read what the previous techs had written under my ticket number. He tried to help me again, but ran into the same problems the previous tech had.

All three techs were friendly and helpful, if ultimately, unfortunately, ineffectual. I have no complaint about the people. But this tech had to transfer me to that other place, too. I waited on hold another 30 minutes only to be disconnected again. DAMMIT TO HELL!!!

I had wasted two hours of my morning trying to get this problem resolved, and I was no closer to a solution than I was a day before. We had been without Internet access for over 24 hours, and we were looking at a weekend of more. Cowgrit said she’d go by the cable office and demand someone come out to our house and fix it. I went on to work, and she went to the company. Because of this problem throughout the area, the earliest they could get a service person to our house would be Wednesday afternoon.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com