My Mother used to have a joke to illustrate almost any situation... One of the old favourites -- so "well-worn" that all we needed was the punchline (and one which migrated with me to my American family) went like this (more or less, allowing for translation):
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In a little village, a man comes to his rabbi and says: "Rabbi, I'm at the end of my tether... I'm a poor man; I have a wife and four children, and my wife is pregnant again. I work hard all day, but all I can afford is a house with one room. So all of us live there, and there's never any peace -- the children squabble, the wife complains... I never get any rest. Rabbi, can you advise me what to do; I need more room..."
The rabbi smoothes his beard in thought for a while then says: "Ask your mother-in-law to come and live with you"
The man isn't too happy to hear that; he doesn't like his MIL overmuch. But, the rabbi is the wisest man in the village, surely his advice is good. And, perhaps, MIL will keep his wife company, help her take care of the children and house, make it easier on his wife, so she won't complain as much... And, the room being so overcrowded already, one more person might not make all that much difference...
So, he does as the rabbi advised, and his MIL joins the household.
Two weeks later, the man's back... "Rabbi," he says, "things are worse than they had been. The two women are now ganging up on me in their complaints, and egging the children on, turning them against me too. I can't live like that any more; I never get any peace, I have no space to call my own. What can I do?"
The rabbi thinks some more and says: "Buy a goat"
Again, the man has reservations about the solution, but, again, does as the rabbi advised. A week later, he' back: the goat stinks, gets into everything and nibbles on everything, the women and children are as before, and the space is just too small to contain them all... What to do?
The rabbi says: "Sell the goat"
Within 3 days, the man's back: "Rabbi, *what* a relief!"... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dusan said he'd be here 10:30-11, so I got my sorry carcasse out of bed in time to get decent, eat breakfast, and fire up the puter. By 15:30, I was "steamed" enough to call the provider (I hate phones as much as I hate MS <g>); unexpected things happen, I can understand that. But, not to phone and say "I'll be 5 hrs late"??? This is US, not Poland; the place is *littered* with phones; how hard can it be to get to one?
After going through a merry-go-round with several voice-mail menus ("none of the above" not being included, I don't press any buttons, just grimly hang on till the next one), I am told that, "unfortunately, we're on another phone, with another customer; please leave a message, we'll call as soon... etc". After I hang up (having left a "scorchingly polite" one), I realise that I forgot to leave my phone number for them *to* answer... I feel a tad sheepish (doesn't do to act hastily, but I'll never learn that lesson <g>), but I *did* leave my username and name as requested, and our phonebook is thin, we're the only Duvalls in it, they *have* my phone # in their 'puter... Let it go, rather than try braving the whole rigamarole again...
45 minutes later, I'm over my sheepish stage, and back to boiling point; by now, I also worry that they'll close for the day before they get back to me, and I'll have to face Severn's hateful 'puter again (though half of me is resigned to having to deal with it for the rest of my life)... True, the *office* hours are till 17:00, and the *help desk* is open till 21:00, but, *which* is Dusan? He's the boss -- goes home at 5... He's the help I rely on -- goes home at 9...
In 5 minutes, I'm *there*, in wrathful person... :) Dusan is there too; "I didn't break the thing; I'm trying to help you. Was out of town, just came back. No, I couldn't call. I'll be there as soon as I can" So I don't vent anymore (having antagonised my life-line is bad enough), hightail it home, and wait. 17:15, He Arrives... :)
Equipped with two routers (one simpler, for a quick check, and a wireless like mine to replace mine if we determine that *that* is what's wrong), and a spare cable, in case *that* is where the fault lies; he may have had his scout training in Yugoslavia, but "be prepared" is a motto that obtains everywhere...
He tries the "quick-check" router, with the new cable, and it *works*. He tries the new cable with the old router, and it works. By now, I know I'll have my e-mail and my web-mobility restored, *today*, one way or another, so I bravely follow my natural inclination to "act empirical" (boys are't the only ones who opened their teddy bears to see what was inside <g>) and suggest: "what happens if we put the *old* cord, on the *old* router?" Dusan is willing to experiment; he, too, sees the end of the tunnel... Replacing the old cord in the old router takes no more than 5 seconds...
AND IT STILL WORKS!!! All the correct numbers show up where they should, Mozilla (I've reverted to it as the default browser, just in case it was Safari that was gumming up the works, though I don't *really* think so) works, some other (more technical, which I don't understand) tests show no sign of rot, either...
Go figure... Dusan says I must have gremlins in the house (but it's not even Halloween yet...); there's no other explanation. Together, we trek downstairs, and check things at Severn's puter. It, too, has been miraculously restored, and works as it ought to... :)
We both apologise for having been short-tempered, so I hope the ruined bridges are on the way to being mended. And I don't look forward to seeing the bill for the service, but that's the price I pay for being 'puter-illiterate, and needing tech-assistance all the time. The 5hr wait wasn't as bad as "all that", either -- I used my "steam" constructively, and finished the piece that had been on the pillow... :)
Oh, and the "sold goat"? I don't expect this message to show up on my screen (except as a Cc) any more than my messages had been showing up before the crisis... But, I was so happy to be able to *send* and to receive *other people's* messages, on my own machine *at all*... so happy having my addressbook and my sig back, etc, that I didn't even ask about *that* problem. "Such a relief"... <g>
I'll forward a joke or two (backlogged in my mailbox) in excess of exuberance, but will then apply myself to answering private messages.
----- Tamara P Duvall mailto:[EMAIL PROTECTED] Lexington, Virginia, USA Formerly of Warsaw, Poland To unsubscribe send email to [EMAIL PROTECTED] containing the line: unsubscribe lace-chat [EMAIL PROTECTED]
