Tech Support

 Going home and staying with my parents means one thing. I turn into onsite tech support. 

And I will state categorically that my mother is not too bad with computers. She can do what she needs to do – internet banking, send texts and emails, read Facebook, look things up in a basic way. For somebody who’s 83, this is not bad. 

But when things go up shit creek, that’s when I come to sort things out. 

Something else about my parents. They live out in the equivalent of the back of nowhere, meaning that the major carriers do sweet Fanny Adams when it comes to fixing your problems. 

So, it seems that a few weeks ago, there was a lightning strike which took out most of their communications. Eventually, they got their landline back, but the internet remained screwed. Mum has spent hours of the phone with Telstra trying to sort out the issue. They’ve had people out, they’ve done this and that. Due to their location, they don’t have access to the NBN – and instead have to rely on a mobile dongle. 

Which is about as useful as tits on a bull. 

I was also given a laundry list of things to fix while I was here as the WiFi address had changed. 

• The iPad

• The Kindle

• The mobile phone

• The printer

Coming into the place, the mobile items were placed in front of me, along with a cup of tea in my Snoopy mug. 

I picked up the first item. I went to work, opening up the settings to connect it to the new network.  

“Mum, is the wifi on?”

“The dongle is plugged in. The technician gave us a new dongle.”

“But is the wifi on?”

“I don’t know.”

Okay. I went into the office. Found the router and modem. The wifi was turned off. Easy fixed. And a learning moment. 

I called Mum into to the office. 

“I have to teach you something.”

“Yes, dear.”

“See this blue light on this box here?”

“Yes.”

“If you want the wifi to work, it needs to be turned on.”

“How do I turn it on?”

“Press the button.” 

“Ah.”

That helped get things underway. Three out of four items connected without a problem. 

The kindle was not playing ball. The kindle was a first-generation affair. I was told that a friend’s old model kindle wasn’t connecting to the network. 

“How did she fix it?”

“She bought a new one.”

“How about we go down to Officeworks later and do that for you too?” Mum likes her kindle. She reads more than I do. 

“And what will I do with the old one?”

“Next time you’re at Officeworks, put it in the recycling bin. You’ve got plenty of use out of it. It’s worn out. ”

We got the new kindle home. I tried to connect to the wifi. No service. I tried to attached the kindle to my mobile phone hotspot. That worked. We checked the modem. 

“Hey, Mum. Need to show you something. “

“Yes.”

“See this red light.”

“Yes.”

“It means you’re internet isn’t working.”

“But the wifi light is on.”

“Different things. The red light is the internet service. It should be blue. Think of it like water coming out of a pump. It’s the mains. The wifi is the sprinkler that distributes the water. At the moment the mains are off, so the sprinkler won’t work.”

“But why isn’t the internet working?”

“You’re in the middle of the Fleurieu Peninsula, without and NBN connection and as you have an independent federal MP and most of the people in the district are over 70, the communications companies don’t give a shit. And this dongle is a lemon.”

“But why would they do that? 

“Because they don’t care. And a lot of the technicians won’t think outside of the box. What you have here is about the same as what I get on my mobile phone – one bar of intermittent internet service. Fine for me on holidays in your granny flat, but you’re running a business. Not good enough.”

“So, what are we going to do?”

“I’ll call Telstra with you on Tuesday. I feel like a bit of a fight.”

“You should be pleasant to them. “

“Yes and no. Internet is an essential service, like your phone line which is forever falling over and needing fixing. It might be time to threaten the ombudsmen.”

“Why would you do that?”

“It gets shit done.”

As I said, my Mum is pretty good with “the computer”. I’ve been training her for years. She writes things down. When I gave her one of my old mobile phones, it came with half a day of lessons in how to use the thing. Half a day of pointed training for a happy mum and a happy me as I didn’t have to troubleshoot over the phone. 

I can’t be the only Generation X child doing this for their parents over the Christmas Season. 

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