I have this ancient steam-powered cable modem of seemingly questionable parentage all I have to do is mention the brand name and tech types stare wide-eyed and wonder how it’s still functional after seven and a half years and the cable company warns that they will no longer be supporting it at some point in the future.
So they boxed up an even cheesier-looking box and FedExed it to me, with a page full of extremely simple instructions. I duly disconnected the old clunker, wired the new one into place, and, as instructed, called the tech-support line. I have no idea why I’d need to call them they have the serial number, so there’s no reason they shouldn’t have the MAC address, unless they’re completely brain-dead but I did call them, and they shunted me off to the Robotic Voice, which complained for a good half an hour that it couldn’t detect that brand-new piece of [suitable pejorative].
Well, we are not having that sort of [similarly-suitable pejorative] at Surlywood. I undid everything I did, threw the new box back into its packing material, and shoved it into a closet. I am not trying again until fifteen minutes before they shut me down entirely. And you don’t want to be the person who reads the inevitable customer-service survey I’ll be sent.