When the internet goes down

Live by the internet, die by the internet. Well, maybe that’s too dramatic a paraphrase of “live by the sword, die by the sword.” Still, when the internet goes down—as it does from extreme weather, service interruptions, or other unexplained reasons—life comes to a deadly standstill.

At least I have 4G, so my iPhone works even when I can’t. I see emails coming in, but can’t fully address the requests if they require desktop work. Sure, I can camp out with my laptop at a coffee shop, but that's often more trouble than it's worth.

I’ve learned to deal with the forced mini-vacations, but now there’s another level of anxiety to internet outages. My mother resides in a senior-living community, and my brother and I keep testing new internet-based services to keep an eye on things. 

• One service, Nest Cam, allows a real-time look-see with streaming video.
• Another, Alzcom, is a remotely managed calendar with interactive reminders that display on a tablet in her kitchen. This free and awesome technology answers the perennial question for people with memory issues: “What’s on my calendar today?”
  

• We’ve also tried Alexa to help answer a broader range of questions, such as “What’s today’s date?” and “What time is it?” and “What’s the weather?” But Alexa isn’t always perfect, as this SNL skit so aptly demonstrates: Amazon Echo Silver.

When everything works, it’s a wonderful thing. But March nor'easters have knocked out my mom’s internet, and it will be a while before we can get it up and running again. In the meantime, there’s no streaming video, Alzcom reminders are stuck on the last date of service, and Alexa speaks unbidden to complain about being disconnected.

The suggested course of action, offered by everyone from the cable company to Nest to Alexa, is to go online and search their help pages for a fix. See the problem? Without internet, it’s kind of hard to get on the internet. While I do have access through my iPhone, navigation is both cumbersome and useless for trying to resolve a remote issue in my mom’s apartment. 

After the current nor’easter clears, I will go visit and shift into troubleshooting mode. And I will pester the service provider until everything is fixed.

The irony is that as much as I have come to rely on the internet for any and all services, I need it now more than ever for my mom, who doesn’t own a smartphone or computer. And she doesn’t have to. All these tech-heavy and interconnected services are transparent to her—that is, they are when the internet is up and running.  

Retro tech: First gen is the new gen

Old tech still sought.

It’s classical conditioning. Pavlovian response. Each year, new technology is unveiled, and suddenly we hunger for the latest, shiniest thing.

My 2016 iPhone SE? That’s so yesterday. Today? It’s the Nokia 3310. Wait, what? Yes, it’s back and being heralded as iconic and a timeless classic.

Originally introduced at the turn of the 21st century, the simple Nokia cell phone has become “a modern classic reimagined,” with extended battery life and low price of 49 euros. Yes, euros, because the phone won’t be sold in the U.S.—at least not with its current incompatible frequencies.

Still, the new-old Nokia is a sign of the times. This year also saw announcements of an Android-powered Blackberry with a physical keyboard. I had been a blindingly loyal Blackberry fan, spending many hundreds of dollars on new devices I was sure would return the company to its former glory. No such luck; hence my switch to the iPhone SE.

Smartphones aren’t the only technology in the midst of a nostalgia boom. How else to reconcile buyers' interest in these items:

• My old Aiwa boombox was essential to my short stint as aerobics instructor, but had been stored away, unused, for decades. Last month it sold on eBay. And this week a colleague emailed in hopes of borrowing just such a boombox for an event.
• eBay also came through in attracting buyers for several old-tech items: a Polaroid Land camera, which went to China; a Mamiyaflex twin-lens film camera, sold to an art student at UCLA; and an early-model Garmin Forerunner GPS watch, to a runner with strength enough to wear such a big and bulky device while exercising.
• My collection of vinyl LP records has moved with me since college days, and that’s been a dog’s age. Finally I found an entrepreneurial couple in the business of buying and reselling albums. They sat in my basement, using a raking light to illuminate the grooves and detect scratches, warping, and other imperfections in each one. Eventually, they bought 100. 

I don’t know if this retro trend is here to stay, but I certainly hope so. New is fine when there are worthwhile advances in technology, but I still have closets and drawers full of old technology. It's good to know someone somewhere might someday want to own a piece of it.

The ultimate driving experience is behind the wheel

I am now the proud owner of a brand new and increasingly obsolete horseless carriage. At least that’s what I fear as technology marches on.

While my car has the latest “innovative control concept,” with “intuitive and interactive” functions, it has me at the steering wheel. And, apparently, I am soon-to-be outdated technology. At least that’s the plan in a future that aspires to autonomous cars, also known as driverless or self-driving cars.

I already had one step in antiquity, with my preference for manual-drive transmissions in a world of automatics. Recently, a parking-lot attendant told me he was impressed I drove a manual. I was impressed with the poor timing of his remark, having just parked at a funeral home to bid farewell to a beloved aunt.

No matter. He may someday be as obsolete as me, once autonomous cars hit the road. And it may happen sooner than later, considering all those investing and developing the technology. Among the short list of players are Google, General Motors, Tesla, Apple, Mercedes-Benz, and Audi.

Just this month, driverless cars gained the same legal status as a human driver. No, I didn’t make that up. The National Highway Traffic Safety Administration responded to a letter from Google asking for clarification on the word “driver.” The answer included, "If no human occupant of the vehicle can actually drive the vehicle, it is more reasonable to identify the ‘driver’ as whatever (as opposed to whoever) is doing the driving."

I don’t know what’s scarier. Sharing the road with human drivers prone to texting, applying makeup, shaving, and reading while driving, or relying on technology to never fail while barreling down the highway.

Maybe I’ll be more eager to give up the driving reins when I’m too old to navigate safely on my own. But that’s down the road a ways.

Until then, you can find me in my sport sedan, stick shift in hand, enjoying the ultimate driving experience.

 * * *

March 1 UPDATE: "Google says self-driving car hits municipal bus in minor crash"

Always on is not always best

I have become an eager consumer of quite a bit of technology, from mobile commerce and VOiP calling to streaming video, online chats, and Sirius radio. 

Technology keeps me connected to the larger world, allowing my small business to function seamlessly with global clients.

On a personal level, technology brings me more news and entertainment options than I could consume in ten lifetimes. Yet the best part of all these technologies is the most basic of features: the OFF button.

Less can definitely be more in this age of always-on communication and global news cycles. Enough can be plenty. And too much of a good thing can be a waste of time.

Case in point: I have on-demand video. I have Roku video streaming. I have Amazon Prime and Amazon Fire TV media player. I have Chromecast. I even have an old-fashioned antenna in my attic for over-the-air channels on secondary TVs. So, what did I ask for this holiday season? Netflix.

Don't get me wrong, I love the range of choice and new programming. But I would have to be laid up for years to see even a fraction of what's on my watch list.

Finding more time to watch TV was not among my New Year's resolutions. Instead, I was planning more days at the gym, adding an exercise class, taking advantage of this mild winter to hike the nearby fields and trails.

With technology, it seems that I can have it all, at least in terms of choice. But in reality, I should never expect to take advantage of it all.

Sometimes the best option is to turn off the TV, the laptop, the tablet, and the smartphone, and reconnect with the real world. Smell the coffee, or the roses, and take a moment to appreciate what's right here, right now.

No subscriptions, monthly fees, or updating required.

Working (un)smarter and harder

A few years ago, a friend expressed surprise over my ownership of a fax machine. “Gee, I haven’t used one of those in years? Does anyone still fax?”

Oh, yes, as I’m finding out. Government agencies. Medical offices. Some businesses. Sign this, send your approval, submit pages of paperwork.

It’s even truer as I try to help my elderly parents navigate bureaucratic systems from a thousand miles away.

My father does have a computer, and a scanner, and a fax, but he’s currently in the hospital without access.

My mother shuns most technology and only remembers the most basic functions of her mobile phone: answer calls; place calls.

Neither will check voice mail messages, and so my brother clears hundreds from their inbox whenever he visits.

Articles on the Internet portray a much different reality. Smartphones used for shopping, banking, making payments, getting tickets for events, displaying boarding passes.

Sometimes I even believe the hype, expecting the quick extinction of cash in my wallet, newspapers on the kitchen table, magazines at bedside, and mail by my friendly postal carrier Bob.

But this week I’ve been thrown back to the pre-smartphone, un-Web days. In trying to liaise between my parents and various medical, insurance, and municipal agencies, the phone and fax have become tools of the trade.

I even resorted to USPS Priority Mail service when a receiving fax machine hiccuped.

I'll admit I love the digital life, but can we please make it additive, and not a category killer to existing technologies?

It may be hard to believe, but even in an age of smarter-than-the-average-bear devices, it sometimes takes an old-fashioned fax to get things done.

I’ve Got the This & That Technology Blues

Handheld this, mobile that,
Interfaces so user friendly.
Babies in strollers navigate smartphones;
Their parents push hard to catch up.

Tap this, swipe that,
Technology couldn’t be easier.
My mother refuses to touch a computer;
She rarely uses her cell phone.

Watch this, record that,
My TV is big and thin.
Streaming movies from many sources;
There aren't enough hours in the day.

“Like” this, follow that,
Social networks keep on growing.
How many people can really be friends,
If I never see them in person.

WiFi this, Bluetooth that,
I find I’m always discoverable.
My favorite feature is “power off,”
A mental break from constant contact.

Black-box mania

Black-box technology used to sound so secretive, so James Bond-ish, so indestructible. When planes crash or equipment fails, investigators go straight to the black box for clues.

Black boxes of a different kind now infiltrate my house. I know and love them for what they do, without understanding a bit about how they do it.

One thing I do know: I now have much more choice in phone and TV services, with much less cost. And I rely less on (and pay less to) the cable and phone giants in my area.

Here are a few of the magical black boxes I have come to embrace:

• Roku: This streaming video player is smaller than my wallet and didn’t take much of a bite out of it in purchase price. When paired with Amazon Prime (which also allows me to borrow books from the Kindle Lending Library), I was able to binge-watch entire seasons of "Downton Abbey" and can revisit episodes of "Fringe" whenever I want.
• Google Chromecast: This thumb-drive-sized gadget, with its equally small price, supersizes my Internet viewing experience by sending movies and TV shows to my HDTV. I hate watching TV on my computer, so now I’m catching up on content I can only get online…and I can watch on a comfy couch, on a big screen, instead of my small computer screen or tablet.
• Ooma has redefined the telephone in my home. With a black box about the size of my Kindle, I cut the cord from my landline provider while keeping my same number and getting free nationwide calling. I ponied up for the (reasonably priced) premium services so I can blacklist telemarketers and political pollsters. I'm so happy when their calls go straight to voicemail, without any disruptive ringing.
• With my Panasonic digital phone system, I can plug handsets into any electrical outlet and they connect to the base unit on my office desk. And the system works seamlessly with the Ooma telo (black box) and an additional Ooma handset, so I’m never far from a phone.

To be fair, among all the black boxes is an essential white one: an Apple AirPort Internet router. It connects all the pieces in my wireless network. You might say it puts the weeeee in my “wee-fee,” as some call Wi-Fi.

Black or white, these boxes do amazing things and offer more options than traditional providers. The only thing they don’t do is find more hours in the day to fit in all the programming and services now available.

Maybe that will happen with next-gen black (or white) boxes.

And is better

Commercials for EcoBoost-powered Fords feature an “And is Better” campaign. They show it’s better, for example, to get sweet and sour chicken, not sweet or sour; a bed and breakfast is better than choosing between a bed or breakfast. The point: their cars offer nice features in addition to great gas mileage.

My point: And is always better. Especially when it comes to technology. Too many tech entrepreneurs and corporations talk about category killers – how their latest and greatest will make previous technology history.

A New Yorker profile of Jack Dorsey – from Twitter and Square – relates his hope that one day his credit-card reader for mobile devices will kill the cash register.

Financial institutions hope they have the killer app to drive more consumers to adopt mobile banking, further reducing their need for tellers, as ATMs have done.

Netflix hopes whole seasons of killer content will appeal to viewers who binge-watch multiple episodes of shows, instead of following along week by week, changing the very nature of television programming.

But why kill off useful, if somewhat older, technology and customs when you can offer more ways for people to get to you? Some will adopt the latest, coolest, techiest approach. Some prefer the secure comfort of known ways.

If you’ve ever helped an elderly relative transition from analog to digital TV, with multifunction, many-buttoned remotes, you can see why for some people, in some cases, the old ways are better. Another elder vs. digital example: computers and smartphones. Some delight in learning new things; some won’t even touch them.

So why must it be one thing or the other? I want one thing and the others.

I want:
•    Email, text, and postal delivery
•    Newspapers, magazines, and books in print…and e-books
•    Terrestrial and satellite radio
•    A quality SLR digital camera and my smartphone camera
•    A touch screen and physical keyboard on my smartphone
•    Prime-time television and on-demand viewing and streaming video

The beauty of technology is its ability to bring out exciting new things. The draw of old technology can be anything from sentimental value to reliable workhorse to versatile options.

And is always better in my book (and my Kindle).

Tag, you're IT

Whenever some bit of software goes wonky, I’m suddenly IT. That’s what happens when you’re a one-woman sole proprietor.

Something breaks. Software needs updating. New and better technology become available. Tag, I’m IT.

I play the role of Information Technology support much like I play office manager, administrative assistant, invoice preparer, bookkeeper, and whatever else is needed to keep my business running. Oh yes – and writing – I knew I was forgetting something.

Most of my writing projects fall into a hurry-up-and-wait rhythm. Schedule phone interviews; wait until the agreed time. Conduct interviews; wait for additional materials to arrive. Write copy; wait through client reviews.

In between, I can easily fit all the other stuff of running the business. Except when software unexpectedly decides to take a header.

In the good old days, I would call corporate IT support or the company Help Desk. These days, I am the company Help Desk. To be fair, I do have some support – my head of networks, or HON – but my husband has a day job, and troubleshooting via email has its drawbacks.

Yesterday’s crisis involved software that used to synch my smartphone with Outlook contacts and calendars perfectly. Until it didn’t.

An update was available. But nothing could get the old program to uninstall, or the new version to install, because some phantom data was tricking the computer into thinking another installation was in progress. It wasn’t.

I wasted an evening – for me and my HON – searching phrases like “Error 1500” and “problem installing program” and “system error codes.” We applied fixes that worked for someone at some point on some system, but not now. We disregarded warnings and modified the computer registry, even upon pain of possible “substantial damage to the Windows operating system.”

Luckily no damage was done.

Then I stumbled on and ran a little utility called “Fix it” to uninstall the uninstallable program. It worked.

Relief. Joy. And a fresh start.

Today’s technology makes it possible for me to make my living from a home office. And even when technology makes it impossible to work, other technology resolves the problem and gets me back on track.

I can’t say I understand IT systems and solutions in any detail. What I can do is think through the problem and do targeted searches to find fixes.

Maybe being IT isn’t such a bad thing, especially when it saves me that dreaded last step of spending a frustrating few hours calling technical support.

How did they know?

We may think we’re seeing pretty amazing new stuff these days, but there are fingerprints of the past on everything.

The question is: How did “they” know? Was it precognition…connecting dots…reading tea leaves.

• In “All Tomorrow’s Parties,” by William Gibson, Colin Laney uses “bulky, old-fashioned eyephones” to view streams of Internet data. Eyephones? More than an iPhone, think Google Glass – but a generation of Google Glass not even possible today.
  [This book was first published in 1999.]

• “I will follow you. Will you follow me?”
  Well before Twitter cemented a superficial social-media context to this exchange, it was a romantic expression and pledge of faith. “Follow You Follow Me” was a hit single for the British rock band Genesis in 1978.

• Wearable tech is supposed to be the next big thing, with the Apple iWatch and with Sony and other smart watches. But watches with some form of smarts have been around for decades. Seiko has several brands that, back in 1982, began to smarten up with data storage, docks and thermal printers, and memory slots. There was even a 1982 Seiko TV watch that was smart enough to allow viewers to see live broadcast TV (albeit on a teeny LCD screen on the watch face.)
   

Maybe there’s truth to the saying “everything old is new again.”

Only this time, the new stuff seems to be much, much cooler.

Does not compute

For me, the only thing better than buying new stuff is getting rid of old stuff. By "rid" I mean donating, handing down, or recycling.

I like cleaning out my basement, but not clogging landfills.

Recently, I ran across a news item in the local weekly paper about an electronics recycling day. Just about anything with a power cord would be taken.

I could easily compile a decent list of no-longer-powerful objects I wanted to part with:

• an 11-year-old CPU;
• a telephone from, maybe, the 1970s;
• a battery recharger with nothing left to give.

It was almost fun to drive through the recycling line, having eager volunteers take the stuff out of my car and off my hands. I don't know who was happier: me, for clearing out my obsolete stash; or them, for adding to their collection.

I left feeling lighter -- and immediately began a mental list of things to put aside for the next time:  computer cables, power cords, a boom box. And I'm just getting started.

Buying new technology must be akin to buying a boat. They say the second happiest day of your life is when you buy your boat; the happiest is when you sell it.

So remember this when lusting after that hottest electronic must-have: today's next-generation technology is tomorrow's recycling.