Tag Cable TV

Remotely Technological

Michael 3 Comments

If I had to describe myself I would avoid it. But if I couldn’t, depending on the context, I would say I am a technologically aware luddite. I’m not anti-progress, I’m just don’t care about it. Actually, most other things I care about more. Work had the necessary bells and whistles. Home had bells. And whistles. And too many of them sometimes.

I wouldn’t be the first to say we’re advancing in the wrong direction. Take a look at your wrist. If it’s not there, on the wrist of somebody you know is a smart watch doing all the things Dick Tracy’s did in the 40s looking remarkable like what Kojak wore in the 70s. In fact, if you’ve got a spare $500 laying around, you can get a brand new Dick Tracy watch.

I don’t. But what I do have laying around is a new remote that might finally be progressing to where I suggested they go six years ago. Look at the remote on the left. Ignoring those 4 shortcut buttons toward the bottom, there are only 10 buttons on it. That’s the voice remote for my Roku Stick.

Remotes

Compare that the to the voice remote for my cable with its 39 buttons which is actually 14 buttons less than the cable remote that sparked my post six years ago. Eventually we might get to power, volume, and the one that looks like a cross.

Oh, I didn’t get the more slender if not more fashion forward remote to join the entertainment streaming masses here in the 21st century. I just got tired spending $130 for cable. Like I said (as I said?), I’m not anti-progress. But I can be cheap.

Customer Disservice

Michael Leave a comment

Last night, actually early (VERY early) this morning, I was watching a blank TV screen in bed. It was the best thing I could get. When the screen wasn’t blank I had a message from the cable company that read “Something has gone wrong. Please unplug your box for ten seconds then plug it back in. When the signal returns, you can begin watching your show again.” Now that’s a polite message for a cable company. It was also a big fat lie.

About a month ago I had a semi-similar problem. I had to upgrade the type of set top box I had been using so I had them ship me a replacement for a self-install. Even after carefully following the directions I couldn’t get the thing to work. A call to the support center revealed that they couldn‘t get the thing to work either. But not for trying. I was on the phone with them for about 35 minutes while the technician sent a variety of reset signals, check error codes and ping-backs, and generally did what she could to correct my problem from a distance. It didn’t happen. After apologizing for her inability to get the box working and for making me wait so long, she arranged for a technician to come out the next day and replace the box with a new one. I was also issued a credit for being inconvenienced by the lack of service for a day.

Last night’s technician could have used some guidance from the previous encounter. After confirming my name, phone, address, social security number, mother’s maiden name, length of great toe on my left foot, and the winner of the Academy Award for best adapted screenplay of 1962 (To Kill a Mockingbird) she began her diagnostic check. First she told me to unplug my set top box for 10 seconds then plug it back in. As we waited for it to reset she told me that when the signal returns I could continue to watch my show. (Yes, I thought it sounded familiar also.)  Eventually the screen replayed the same message. “Well,” she said, “I’m stumped. Let’s set up a service appointment for you. Our next opening is next January 6 at 4:30.” Yes, that January 6. Sheesh. “Thank you for calling.”

Within minutes I received an e-mail confirming the appointment and noting that I will be charged a $50 service fee my next bill. I will be calling customer service later this morning.

Sheesh. Again.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Entertainment on Demand

Michael Leave a comment

January is half over and we’re still working on our respective home budgets for this year.  Oh, they’ve been done for months but during that time everything we buy from applesauce to Zagnuts has gone up thus requiring, as Congress would say, a re-opening of the spending plan.

Some things you just can’t do without.  Electricity, water, sewage, and gas come to mind.  Somebody somewhere is saying they do quite well with wood burners, wells, and a septic tank.  Congratulations.  Feel free to spend what you’ve saved on Riddx.  But as we were saying, some things you can’t do without.  Fortunately, these utilities are basically on demand.  You probably pay a minor monthly line charge on all of them but the bulk of the bill is based on usage.  Turn your lights off when you’re not in the room and your electric bill goes down.  You pay for what you use.  Just about everything is like that.  You pay for the groceries you buy to eat.  You pay for the water you run through your taps.  You pay for the clothes you’re planning to wear.  If you want to save, you buy less.  If you’re feeling generous to yourself, you buy more.  All except one.

The cable bill.  What is it about television that has us held hostage to hundreds of dollars a month whether we use it or not.  And don’t think you’re getting away with anything if you have satellite instead of cable.  It’s the same thing.  So are the movie services like Netflix and Hulu.  Every month someone is sucking money out of our checking accounts for services we may or may not have used.  Sort of like “just in case” we want to watch the news, a hockey game, or a re-run of Gilligan’s Island.

Our cable bills are more each month than our electric, gas, water, and sewage combined.  Is this right?  Even when you pare away the “basic plus” channels, the movie channels, and the special packages the bill for entertaining oneself is ridiculously high.  And there’s nothing we can do about it.  We could eliminate cable altogether and if we could find a store that still sells antennae we’d lose most local sports, all but 25 year old movies, and get to watch the local news with two shadow figures.  Losing Gilligan’s Island might be the only good thing that would come of that.

We think there should be a meter on the television just like on the water line.  If you watch something you pay for the time you’re watching.  If you instead are relishing in a hot shower you pay for the water you use.  Then you can have a glass of that wine you bought with the intention of drinking, sit in your comfy chair with a reading lamp turned on and being paid for while reading the book you purchased just for that purpose.  All without the cable company sticking its hand in your checking account.

That’s what we call on demand!

Now, that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

Buttons, Buttons, They Have Too Many Buttons

Michael 1 Comment

He of We never thought of them as too many until She of We brought it up.  After all, there were only three of them.  But to be honest about it, one was confusing, one didn’t make any changes, and one nobody really knew what it did.  But still, how confusing could it be.  After all, it’s only a toaster.

She of We has been on an anti-button quest for as long as He of We has known her. “All you need is power, volume, and channel,” she often says of the TV remote.  He of We secretly agrees with her but sometimes really just wishes for one remote. The one for the cable that’s suppsoed to run everything never does and the one for the DVD is never there when you need it.  But fewer remotes mean more buttons.  Or does it.  Even if one remote is running three or even four entertainment devices, the commands are as universal as the remotes are supposed to be.  Power, volume, channel, and for the DVD, play and stop.  Throw a “menu” button in for the DVD and the cable and that’s still only 10 buttons.

The point of too many buttons was hammered home the day She of We counted them.  Fifty-three buttons on the cable remote, 32 on the TV remote, 19 on the microwave, and 10 on the coffee maker. Do they all have to be so complicated.  It’s like all of the appliances were designerd by committee.  Perhaps they were.  Hopefully they won’t revolt.

As we’re typing this, we’re counting buttons.  Excluding those for the letters and numbers, this computer has 27 additional buttons.  That’s 27 more buttons than a classic Underwood typewriter of 85 years ago.  And it gets us to the Internet and around the world.  Yet the cable remote has twice as many buttons and it barely gets us around the channel guide.  Like that third mystery button on the toaster, we aren’t actually even certain that they all do anything.

Se here’s our advice for the electrical engineer who is charged with designing people friendly accessories.  Power.  Channel.  Volume.

Now, that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you?