small talk I am not a relic

It turns out one can be furious and grim, while simultaneously being jubilant. Yes, of course it has to do with a computer and a “help” line.

It all began when I realized that our Wi-Fi was no longer password protected and hadn’t been for some years.

Just before breaking out in hives, I called our Internet provider and asked how to fix this. It seems we did not possess the provider’s very own modem/router (I’m still not sure which) and so they could not help us.

The company who did make our modem/router had no advice either. Here begins the grim.

I finally realized that for a few more bucks a month, our provider would give us their “box” and with it, password protection.

So I blithely gathered it from the store, along with the counterperson’s wellmeant curse. She assured me it was “really easy to set up and the CD would walk me through it” but gave me the “help” phone number if I needed it.

I can’t even list all the things about this installation that were neither easy nor obvious.

I am not a relic. I have been using computers since 1974 … but I have never set up a wireless network. So there you are. After repeated fails, no tutorial and no Wi-Fi, I gritted my teeth and forged ahead, leaning on the adage of 100 monkeys typing will eventually produce a novel.

This monkey just kept banging away, clicking on every button that I was offered and some I wasn’t, and Googling madly, until some secrets were revealed. I then filled in the same blanks with 12 variations and, by darn, one finally worked.

I am jubilant and re-

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