We visited friends recently and over tea the talk turned to books and the television. “What have you read lately? Was it any good?”
“Actually,” they replied, “We subscribed to a new TV service and instead of reading we are watching some great movies.”
“We could use a change in our TV supplier,” I said. “We subscribe to the TV supplier of the retirement home. What they give is what we see. There’s often nothing to watch. What’s your supplier called?”
The following morning I called the number they had given me and asked the guy for details of his service. He mumbled facts and figures none of which were very clear and said he would call on us later that day to see what set-up we have.
We waited with great anticipation. Two days later he called to say he was on the way to see us. He stood in front of our TV set and fiddled with his phone and receiving all sorts of messages on the TV screen. Then he pronounced his verdict.
“Okay, I can supply the program you want but you have to raise the Wi-Fi speed you are getting. Call me when it’s done. Bye-bye”
I raced downstairs to the maintenance department of the building and asked about the Wi-Fi. No problem. “The supplier is Joe and this is his phone number. Call him.”
I finally spoke to Joe who promised. “Sure I’ll come to your place tomorrow.” The next day turned out to be three days later.
And he came, looked around and said,” I can raise the speed, but I highly recommend that we ‘hard-wire’ the apartment so you have guaranteed Wi-Fi at a guaranteed speed.”
I nodded, having reached the end of my Wi-Fi knowledge. Next day he was back with a helper carrying a huge roll of cable. Our apartment was rebuilt before we moved in and the internal walls are made of double gypsum sheeting. Between these sheets are yards of green plastic hose-pipes, intended to be sleeves through which wires and cables can be drawn. Guess what? Every one of these sleeves was blocked.
At this stage I stopped watching what was going on. By the end of the day I was told we had new, extra high, extra strong, extra fast Wi-Fi. On the TV screen the picture froze, twitched, stalled and was impossible to watch.
I called the TV man and before I could complain he asked what out Wi-Fi number was.”I told you it had to be at least 30. Call me when you get it.” I called the Wi-Fi guy who said we were getting 30 and more. I clicked my way, using three remotes, to a Manchester United game on and looked at 22 frozen players plus stone statues of the ref and linesmen.
It’s enough guys. I’ve had it. I am 86.9 years old. Here is a brief specification for our new TV service. If you can’t supply this or don’t understand any part of it, don’t apply.
I wish to enter the lounge, sit down on the couch. Take the remote from its hiding place on the coffee table. Press the ‘on’ button. Click a channel number and watch the program. I will deal with the matter of volume.
