Tag: cellular telephone

Cell Service: Like A Bad Marriage

We are getting set to firm up our cell service for another two years. In many way our relationship with the cell company is like a bad marriage, kept together for the sake of the kids.

This installment of the “Cell Phone Saga” comes about because of Steffie’s phone. It’s been dropped on its head enough that it should be bandaged, or have its antenna in a sling. Sometimes it spontaneously shuts itself off. On other occasions some of the keys don’t work.

Since I had some questions about this month’s bill, I gave Cingular a call. Is it possible they’re trying to obfuscate what the bill contains? I was always good at math… even on the math team… but their bill baffles me – all 24 pages of it!

There is no bill we receive which is more detailed or confusing… or voluminous.

After we straightened out my billing misunderstandings I asked about getting some new phones. It seems my line is eligible, but Helaine and Steffie’s are not – at least not until September.

How can that be? We all got our phones at the same time. I’m not going to complain because like Monopoly’s “Bank Error In Your Favor,” I think September probably is the correct time.

With a little “creative accounting” Steffie can get my new phone and I’ll wait until September to get her scheduled replacement. Helaine, who is ambivalent about the whole thing gets a new one too. She and I currently have tiny LG G4010’s.

I have written about this phone before.

The manual is so beautifully designed and printed that when I originally had trouble following what it was saying, I though the problem was mine. This seems like a manual that might have been written in Korean and then poorly translated into English. Whatever the story, it’s a puzzle. I’m surprised Cingular let this get by since it increases their support costs.

Steffie wants a Motorola RAZR phone – in black, thank you very much. She’s paying – it’s her choice. It’s a very stylish phone which gets good marks from most reviewers. Its camera isn’t quite up to state-of-the-art resolution and it plays back video though it can’t record it.

The RAZR is Bluetooth enabled and, looking at eBay, well supported with after market products including a data cable and software (eliminating the need to run up your phone bill to move photos to your PC).

We headed to the Cingular store to pick one up, but they are in demand and out of stock. There will be some next week, which is when Steffie will return. Then, I’ll watch Steffie’s experience and see if that’s the phone for me.

There are times I think I’d rather have a PDA type phone, like a Blackberry or Treo. I like the idea of email and IM from anywhere, but there is the geek factor. Those are hip holster phones you wear, not pocket phones.

Helaine says with one of those on my belt I will be as nerdy looking as is humanly possible. She does not mean that as a compliment!

Meanwhile I have time. No new phone for me until September.

It looks like getting a new phone might be as difficult as understanding the phone bill.

Deer Across The Street

Helaine was about 10 seconds out of the garage when she called me on her cell phone.

“Go to the window,” she said.

Across the street, staring right at her car was a deer. Though Bambi was lovely to look at, in person deer are ugly. Actually, it’s a good body, bad face problem.

The deer was probably here to scout out the fruit on my peach trees. The peaches themselves are far from ready, but deer seem to be impatient and voracious.

I’m a city boy. I grew up in Apartment 5E. Deer weren’t allowed above the 3rd floor. What do I know? Deer seemed mystical and exotic until I moved to the ‘burbs where I learned they were really tall rats with white tails.

Before the season is over, I can guarantee the deer will eat more of my peaches than I will!

On To The Weekend

First things first. My tooth pain has greatly subsided. There’s still swelling on the gum, but I’m hoping that’s from the injections. The tooth is in my drawer, where it now belongs.

Let me add, though I took a sick day from work Thursday, Friday was already scheduled as a vacation day. Bad timing on my part.

We once had an employee at the station who tried to explain to my boss that since she was sick on her vacation day, it should count as a sick day. That’s chutzpah.

I was well enough to head to the shoreline for a planned family celebration. I’ve been told to keep my mouth shut on what was being celebrated, but we went to Lenny’s in Branford.

I was petrified to go! I’d run into Lenny’s daughter while having my hair cut and she told me how the place had been remodeled. Didn’t she understand? The charm of Lenny’s was that it looked like it was built out of whatever was stored in someone’s garage.

I’m glad to say the main dining room has been remodeled… the particle board removed from the walls… but it’s lost none of its charm. That’s a tall order. It looks nice – really, not just compared to its older self.

We weren’t going to Lenny’s for the ambiance. We were going for fried shrimp for the girls and the shore dinner for me.

Even with only one half of my mouth operating, it was great! The lobster, the mussels, the corn – excellent. Why you only get two clams is beyond me, but that ‘s what the dinner calls for. My only ‘customization’ was getting a bowl of Rhode Island clam chowder&#185 instead of a cup.

Through dinner and the rest of the evening I was a little woozy. It wasn’t enough to stop me, but I certainly was in no condition to operate heavy equipment. Helaine drove and I was grateful to be her passenger.

When we got home, I napped. I couldn’t sleep all night because there was a test to be taken for my Oceanography class.

I took the test around 3:00 AM. This should be an interesting grade because I wasn’t really able to concentrate on reading the text necessary to answer the questions. I had the attention span of a toy poodle.

Back to bed at 4:00.

By the time I woke up this morning, I had gotten over 16 hours of sleep in the last 24. On the other hand, I was feeling better, which was good because I had long standing plans for a friend to visit.

I’ve known Bob since my first professional day in radio, early fall 1969. Bob was a disk jockey at WSAR in Fall River, MA, where I started.

When I first me him he was Skippy Ross, then Skip Tyler, now (for over thirty years) Bob Lacey. With his partner Sheri Lynch, Bob presides over a very successful, syndicated morning radio show. It’s a show considered ‘woman friendly.’

Bob had left Charlotte, NC Thursday afternoon and had been hanging around New England since Thursday evening. Though I’d tried getting him on his cell phone a few times, he was unreachable.

By early this morning there was a discussion whether Bob was actually going to show or not. It was starting to look like ‘not’ had won when the phone rang.

He showed up an hour later and we hopped in the convertible on what had turned into a spectacular spring day. The sky was blue, temperature warm, humidity about right. We were heading toward the shoreline.

Bob had actually grown up around New Haven and knows those parts of the area that haven’t changed over the last 40 years – which is most of it!

First stop was lunch. We went to a place call “The Place” in Guilford. “The Place” is one of a kind.

You sit outside (in the open or under a tent-like cover) on old tree stumps. The food (lobster, clams, chicken and the like) are cooked out of door on a long wood fired grill. When your order is ready, the grill it cooked on is brought to your table.

The owner, Vaughn, kvetched about the weather. I would think to a place like this good weather means good business and a May like we had means… well, it wasn’t a good sign.

Bob had a lobster and I had clams. I’m sorry to be positive about everything, but it was great.

Next up we drove down the Turnpike into Old Lyme and then headed randomly into an area called “Miami Beach.” We drove down Hartford Avenue and I was astounded – 21 years in Connecticut and I’d never been to this cool, vest pocket, beach community.

A friendly cop showed us where we could park and we were off. This is a really nice beach. As Connecticut’s Long Island Sound beaches go, it is broad and white. There are plenty of stones which makes barefoot walking a little tougher.

Of course Bob and I were dressed totally wrong for a day at the beach – both wearing long pants.

We moved off the beach itself and into an open air beachfront bar. Bob had a beer and I a Diet Coke ($5+$2 tip). Reggae music was wafting in and it was perfect on this idyllic day.

Like “The Place,” I have to wonder how open air establishments like this make it in the ratified air of a short season Connecticut summer, and with total dependence on good weather. Every season has got to be make or break. I thought about that as I sipped my Coke.

We didn’t have long. Bob had dinner plans with some friends he’s known longer than me. We continued east to Mohegan Sun, the closer of the two Connecticut mega casinos.

Bob was stunned. It is a very impressive place. And, the shopping area with its upscale shops connecting the old and new casinos is elegantly glitzy.

Bob wanted to play craps, though he hadn’t played in years. I pulled $60 out of my pocket and quickly turned it into $15 – good going. Bob had similar luck, but on a lesser scale.

We headed for the car and headed back home.

Bob will be back in Connecticut in the middle of August. We’re hoping to see the Red Sox and visit WSAR’s studio. Truth is, hanging with a friend is the important part. The rest is just icing on the cake.

&#185 – I had never heard of Rhode Island clam chowder until I moved to Connecticut. Manhattan is red, New England is creamy and Rhode Island is a clear broth. When properly spiced, it’s great and nowhere as heavy as New England. As for Manhattan clam chowder – please! Who’s eating that?

Text Messaging Versus Morse Code

I got this link tonight from my friend Harold. Last week Jay Leno pitted Morse Code versus cell phone text messaging in a speed test. Considering I wrote about the mystique and romance of code last week, I thought this would be a fun link to post.

Post Atlanta Random Thoughts

I can’t believe how exhausted I was coming home from Atlanta. I’m a firm believer that travel is just as exhausting as work – and this is more living proof. From the time I left the hotel until I got home was nearly 8 hours. That includes driving, flying, waiting and even taking the Atlanta Airport subway.

I’m starting to get bugged by the TSA screening at some airports. I’ll use Atlanta as an example. Usually I would take photos to illustrate my points, but the TSA has never shown a warm and fuzzy side to me. To their mind: photo equals full body cavity search.

In order to get to the screening apparatus it is necessary to move through a long circuitous line. I was thinking ‘cattle’ as I walked it, only to hear the woman behind me blurt out just that word!

I never take off my shoes for screening, but was told if I didn’t, I would be searched. My shoes have now been x-rayed and I’ve walked through an airport barefoot. The world’s a safer place.

Exactly what is accomplished by screening everyone? Isn’t it possible to build a system that provides trustworthy people with a modicum of trust? I’ll vouch for my mom.

Why do US Senators need to be hand screened at an airport, as recently occurred? Are we really worried about them? Are we really worried about me or the elderly white haired woman with breathing apparatus and a wheelchair I recently saw being screened at Bradley International?

Maybe it’s just the attitude. There is never a doubt when you deal with some of these screeners that they know they have limitless power over you. Tick them off, pay the price.

I brought a digital camera, laptop computer, cell phone and other wired devices. Do they really know the electronic makeup of these items? Aren’t they better off knowing me – or whomever is being screened?

After arriving in Philadelphia and before boarding my New Haven bound plane, there was a problem. The plane had been ‘overbooked’ and volunteers would be needed.

Each volunteer would receive one round trip ticket for anywhere in USAir’s system plus a ticket on the next available flight – 8:15 tomorrow night, or approximately 27 hours wait.

As we got ready to leave, I noticed the seat next to me and a few others in the plane were empty. What was going on? The flight attendant told me there were weight restrictions.

That seemed very odd. Sometimes in the summer when the air isn’t quite as dense, planes don’t have enough power for takeoff. It was cool today. The wind, which had been gusty earlier, had slacked off. I just don’t get it.

I know a few pilots read my blog. Maybe one of you will explain this to me… better still, explain it to the ‘bumpees.’

On Friday I wrote about being forced to park in a more expensive lot when the long term lot was full. I mentioned this to the cashier tonight and he immediately adjusted the price down to the long term rate. My guess is this had nothing to do with me being on TV (making it an even better find, since it represents a real policy – a smart policy at an airport trying to build a customer base).

Flying from Tweed is a pleasure, and I’m glad that’s how I booked this trip.

Finally, as I left the airport I noted the Sun setting over New Haven Harbor. I drove into a nearby park, but soggy ground prevented me from getting a shot which was totally in the clear. As it turns out, I think the trees in the foreground add nice contrast.


The Customer Is Always Wrong

If you’ve read this for any length of time, you know I have been frustrated with the policies of Cingular, my cell phone provider. Maybe Cingular’s actions are just part of the prevailing attitude of cell companies in general.

Here are some snippets from an interview with Verizon CEO Ivan Seidenberg as conducted by the San Fransisco Chronicle.

“Why in the world would you think your (cell) phone would work in your house?” he said. “The customer has come to expect so much. They want it to work in the elevator; they want it to work in the basement.”

Seidenberg said it’s not Verizon’s responsibility to correct the misconception by giving out statistics on how often Verizon’s service works inside homes or by distributing more detailed coverage maps, showing all the possible dead zones. He pointed out that there are five major wireless networks, none of which works perfectly everywhere.

The fact that he thinks this is not surprising. The fact that he’s actually said it in public (as opposed to having it dispatched to lawmakers through a lobbyist) is astounding. Somewhere within Verizon, some PR person is suffering cardiac arrest.

This is hubris. Ivan, can you hear me now? Good.

Blogger’s note – T-Mobile now provides high resolution coverage maps from their website.

Greetings From Ventnor City

I’m writing this from the kitchen of my friend Peter’s condo in Ventnor City, NJ. Honest, there is a Ventnor City, NJ… just down the road from Atlantic City. The people here call it Ventnor.

My journey started after work Friday night. Knowing I have no organizational skills, or willpower, going home after work would have just meant an extended period of putting off going to bed… so I set out for Peter’s house, in Cherry Hill, NJ at 11:35 PM.

That was a good idea because traffic was light and I made it in just under three hours. Not bad. EZ-Pass is good on the NJ Turnpike, making the trip even easier.

I didn’t relish the idea of a long drive but I had my cell phone along with the earpiece I seldom use. I knew if I got my Cousin Michael on the phone from California… well, let’s just say Michael is never at a loss for words.

That’s a good thing because I enjoy talking with him. Between Michael, Melissa and Max (their son) I kept busy through the Bronx, over the George Washington Bride and well into New Jersey. Finally I gave up because my ear was getting sore.

I also decided to run a ‘science experiment’ during the drive. I put my laptop in the front seat, powered by an inverter, working off the car’s battery so it would last the whole trip. The laptop had a wireless network card and GPS receiver hooked up and ran a free piece of software call NetStumbler.

As I drove along, sometimes every few seconds and sometimes only a few times an hour, a little sound went off and the computer would log the presence of a wireless access point. Some were password protected while others would have gladly (OK – gladly is overdoing it) allowed me to connect to the Internet or anything else behind their firewall!

After I return to Connecticut I’ll try and publish some lists and maps to show you what got logged. It was very interesting to me and I tried disparately not to look at the computer screen as I sped along at 70 mph.

I made it to Peter’s house around 2:30 AM. For me that’s the shank of the day. For Peter, it’s the middle of the night. He woke up and let me in. He even nuked a few burgers for me!

Saturday morning started with a visit to his nephew’s baseball game, breakfast at a deli and then a trip to the Jersey Shore. Peter recently bought a 2005 Acura RL and we felt it was necessary to test all the buttons&#185.

Some parts of the car, like the XM Satellite Radio, were interesting. Peter and I agree the XM ‘decade channels’ play too many marginal songs (not hits) – probably an effort to avoid repetition and there’s no real ‘oldies’ channel as such. I did find the comedy channels interesting and am envious of his ability to hear every baseball game… though as a non-sports fan he will listen to none.

When a car is packed with gadgets, as this one is, there are things which seem superfluous or a little over the top. If, instead of touching a button, you’d like to wait five or ten seconds and hope your command is understood, you can tell the car’s climate control system to turn down the fan or adjust the temperature. Using the button is easier!

Mostly this is a sweet car and I enjoyed the ride to the shore.

Though sunny, today was blustery and cool. Still, we decided to take a walk down the boardwalk. The water was rough with spray coming off each breaking wave. The beach, as you might expect for April, was empty.

As we walked the beach, we ran into a flock of tiny birds. Though they do fly, most of the time they scamper on the sand, chasing the waterline in and out with the waves. They’re looking for food, I’m sure, but they were fun to watch because they’re totally in sync and choreographed perfectly.

There is no outward sign of communications between these birds, but they must know what the others are going to do. They change direction on a dime and never bump into each other!

Tonight we had dinner at the Tun, near the Atlantic City Convention Center. I’m on Atkins (again), so I told my waitress I’d rather not have the potatoes with my meal. Could she substitute something else? “How about French Fries,” was her reply.

The steak was very good and there was plenty of it. There was no Splenda for my coffee (a recurring theme of late), so I pulled a pack from the stash in my wallet. This is what 54 year old guys carry in their wallets instead of condoms.

After dinner we went to the Tropicana to see a comedy show. The Comedy Stop at the Trop has been there for at least 25 years. Recently it moved to nicer quarters in the hotel’s new wing called The Quarter. In fact the whole addition is very nice, somewhat reiniscent of the shops at some Vegas casinos.

We stopped in the Spy Store where I found some items going for many multiples of what the same thing sells for on EBay. I wasn’t expecting bargains, but this was a little ridiculous.

The comdey show itself was good and the comedians fine… at least that’s my impression from the audience reaction. Maybe I just wasn’t in a comedy mood tonight?

&#185 – There is a button that Peter just can’t figure out. If you have any idea what the “DISP MODE” button does, drop me a line.

Odds And Ends After A Busy Day

This was a busy day, spent mostly at Universal Studios Hollywood. Please note – it’s not in Hollywood, but Universal City.

I just don’t have the time to write right now and will try and cover it tomorrow as we move to Palm Springs. In the meantime, there are some things about Los Angeles that are just different… maybe even weird.

It’s possible I’m the one living in space, but it seems odd you have to pay for parking everywhere you go. I’m talking about the mall, restaurants, everywhere. In Connecticut, this is just not the case. A mall that tried to charge for parking would be laughed out of existence.

I mentioned this a few days ago, but it bears repeating. If you go for an expensive meal, can’t they hide the $3-$5 they’re going to charge for parking in the bill? I don’t like paying for it after my meal. It seems cheesy.

I’m not picking on any one, because this is an everyone situation.

In many ways this is like the hidden fees and charge that mysteriously show up on cell phone bills.

And, if a restaurant validates your parking ticket, then they should pick up the whole tab. Don’t leave me with $1.50 owed, as was the case at breakfast today.

Oh there’s one bright spot to this parking stuff. While waiting for your car to be retrieved, you get to see California’s conspicuous love affair with the automobile on display. There have been plenty of Bentley’s and Rolls, a few Ferraris, Jags, Porsches (including the SUV) and Mercedes up the ying yang (whatever that means) at the valet parking stand.

Cars here are in a perpetual state of clean and shiny! There is never road salt. The humidity is low virtually all year, which reduces corrosion. They have never seen a streaked windshield when the defroster can’t keep up with the cold, or had salty spray thrown onto their windshield from the tires of the car ahead of them. SUVs here are nearly all two wheel drive!

We’re leaving Los Angeles tomorrow for the real desert. I’ve got the forecast for Palm Springs in front of me, and it looks like some rain for each of the three days we’re there! On the other hand a viewer wrote from Connecticut asking, why snowflakes are sometimes huge&#185… as they were today. I’ll take a rainy Palm Springs.

I’ve been trying to decide what to write when the vacation is over. I want to write some sort of synopsis of the trip, but more lifestyle oriented than the play-by-play I’ve written for the past week.

My goal would be to illustrate it with some of the hundreds and hundreds of photos I’ve taken. The New York Times has an interesting technique using Macromedia Flash with which they create narrated slide shows. I’d like to try that. We’ll see if it’s over my head.

It probably is.

&#185 – Snowflakes that fall through a layer with temperatures just above freezing become very sticky to each other. Multiple snow crystals attach and form huge fluffy flakes. This is normally ‘wet snow’, with a low snow to water ratio, and very good for packing as snowballs.

It’s Officially Election Day

In a few hours the polls will open. It used to be once election day got here, the candidates would no longer advertise. I wonder if that will be the case today? I doubt it.

This continues to be a fascinating election. The polls could not be any tighter. In fact, I have just taken screen captures of three websites, all with predictions on the election. Here’s why:

The NY Times predicts John Kerry wins the electoral college.

RealPolitics.com predicts George Bush wins the electoral college.

Slate.com calls it a dead even split at 269 each (meaning Congress would settle it, and therefore President Bush would be re-elected).

Click on any of the links to see an image of the actual page taken late Monday night just before midnight,

This does seem to be an election that has brought up strong feelings on both sides. I can’t remember an election this polarized since 1972 (Nixon-McGovern). The big difference is, it really wasn’t a race in 1972 with Nixon easily winning the popular and electoral votes.

I am willing to take either man being elected – like I have a choice. What I don’t want to see is an election decided on legal challenges and court battles. I’m hopeful that one slate will win enough of a majority that kvetching after the fact will be a moot point, and so they won’t.

It will also be interesting to look back after the election and see if young, African American, cell phone only and newly registered voters were a wild card or were properly weighted in the polling.

I will be glad to see the political ads off TV.

Long Distance – My Short Story

Helaine went to place a call to Hartford a few minutes ago. Instead of connecting, she heard a message saying our number had been disconnected. You read right – not the number we were calling – our number had been disconnected!

I tried by placing a call to my cell phone. No problem. Then I called my folks in Florida. Again, without problem. So I called the area code 860 number Helaine had tried and sure enough, there was the announcement.

It didn’t take me long to realize intrastate and interstate long distance are treated differently and maybe there was a screw up with ours. Between cell phones and Steffie’s VOIP&#185 service, and our really large local calling area, we hardly ever call long distance in the state.

Our long distance service has been handled for years by GTC Telecommunications. Who knows who they are? I had never heard of them. But for years we had been getting our long distance for 4.9&#162, painlessly.

Then, one day while looking at their website I noticed they were advertising long distance for 2.9&#162 per minute. I called, asked to be switched, and I assume the problem started then.

After waiting on hold for about 5-10 minutes Keith answered. I asked at the end of the call, but guessed from his first words, that Keith was in India. Though he was able to take care of the problem, and he did speak English perfectly, there were communications problems because he doesn’t speak American English.

There are phrases and ironic statements that we all use all the time which were… well, they were foreign to Keith.

At the end of the conversation he told me I’d have to call my local phone company and tell them I needed my intrastate carrier changed to ‘pic code 0333.’

No sweat.

I picked up the phone and called SBC, my ‘local’ phone company. I have accented ‘local’ because, until recently, we had our own lovely, local, responsive phone company – SNET.

SNET was the classic non-Bell local phone company, covering the vast majority of Connecticut. A few years ago, in a deal that richly rewarded their top management, SNET was sold to SBC. My phone still works, but now I’m a little jerkwater customer far away from SBC’s Texas home office. Before Connecticut was SNET’s only business.

SNET was sold, we were told, because they couldn’t compete in this increasingly complex world of telecommunications. Now, if business is bad somewhere else in SBC’s system, our bill goes up here.

After working through the voice mail tree (some options have recently changed – right) a pleasant woman with a Texas accent picked up the phone. I assume that used to be a Connecticut job. I explained my problem and read her the pic code – 0333.

“We use codes with letters” she responded.

Luckily, the carrier for my intrastate service was the same as the working carrier for my interstate service. She says it will be fixed before the close of business today. There was a $2.60 charge for switching, but considering someone dropped the ball in this mess, she waived the fee.

She couldn’t have been nicer… even though she tried to upsell me some services before I could hang up.

The sad part is, years ago this was a big deal. Long distance was a much larger line item. Now, with cell phones and Steffie’s VOIP service, we make many fewer long distance calls with our wired phones. Most months we’re under $20 – closer to $10, for long distance.

There are people at work who don’t have wired phones at all. Maybe someday soon, we’ll join them.

&#185 – VOIP is Voice Over Internet Protocol. Instead of having a real connection between two phones having a conversation, the phone call is digitized and sent as packets through the Internet or other data network. It is much cheaper to provide that standard phone circuits (called POTS for Plain Old Telephone Service). Steffie’s phone has unlimited calling in Connecticut for $10 a month – with voice mail, caller ID and anything else you could imagine in a phone. It is why GTC can afford to route customer service calls to India and what SBC’s executives have nightmares about every night.

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

This is one of my favorite expressions: “No good deed goes unpunished.”&#185 It speaks to the law of unintended consequences. Let me give you today’s example.

A few years ago, my cell service provider was AT&T Wireless. I’m sure they’re lovely people, good to their families, active in their church. To me, running a cell phone company was not among their strong points.

AT&T had this strange way of dropping calls. Granted, every cell phone provider has ways to tick off its customers – but AT&T’s was special to me.

Technically, as you drive around with a cell phone, it transmits to different cell sites as signals and conditions vary. The handoff from one site to another is a complex dance choreographed at the cell sites with instructions relayed back to your phone. AT&T’s equipment seemed to be set in such a way that by the time they got around to telling your phone to switch, you were often already unable to hear the site – and the call would drop. There were favorite locations where this would happen like clockwork.

Once your cellphone has dropped the call, it becomes free to hunt on its own for the best cell site. So, what I would often experience on AT&T was a call that became unusable with low signal – that frustrating period when all you say is “can you hear me?” After a period of time the call would disconnect. As soon as it did, the signal bars on the phone would jump up to full scale.

So, even in areas where there was good signal, because of how their cell sites were configured, AT&T would drop my call. Now that’s a business plan!

It finally got to the point where I had to make a change and went to Cingular. Even without service at my home, Cingular was a better deal because my calls from the car were more likely to work.

Recently, Cingular made an offer for AT&T Wireless and will buy it. And, in what should be a nice gesture, Cingular has integrated AT&T’s network into the system – giving me access to those towers along with Cingular’s. I have service at home because it’s an AT&T tower.

Unfortunately, AT&T’s dropped call problems have now moved to Cingular. That’s right – the addition of all these new towers, all this new coverage, has meant more dropped calls!

Because the AT&T sites show up differently on my phone (it shows Cingular Extend instead of just Cingular) I can see whose service I am not getting when the calls drop – or when I ride around with unusable service in an area that used to be just fine. The problem is with the AT&T sites.

I’d like to call Cingular and tell them, but anyone with the ability to act or even understand this problem is totally hidden from the pubic. Try finding an email address. Try finding a contact for snail mail. It’s impossible.

Cingular is not alone. Many companies have discovered that dealing with their customers after the sale is expensive with little quantifiable financial upside – so they hide as best they can.

The local Cingular office (and I know folks from there who read this blog) has always been very nice and helpful as can be. Unfortunately, they too are totally removed from the actual operation of the company (in fact most of the ‘showrooms’ that say “Cingular” in big letters are neither owned nor run by Cingular).

Here’s the tragic part. When Cingular made this move to allow me the use of AT&T Wirelesses towers, they thought their customers would benefit. And, in some small ways we have. After all, I now have service at home. But the biggest effect has been to lessen the coverage and frustrate this customer.

&#185 – The quote is from Clare Boothe Luce. Here’s how the Library of Congress characterizes here: Talented, wealthy, beautiful, and controversial, Clare Boothe Luce (1903-1987) is best remembered as a congresswoman (1942-1946), ambassador, playwright, socialite, and spouse of magazine magnate Henry R. Luce of Time-Life-Fortune.

We’re Home

I am writing this page grudgingly. In my heart of hearts I know I want to write and share some experiences. On the other hand the trip home was so awful and exhausting. We left this afternoon and spent nearly five hours driving through rain, much of it torrential. And somehow, either through a weird driving position or more likely while carrying our overstuffed bags upstairs, I pulled something in my upper left leg that needs little provocation to be painful.

But I digress…

Monday was another awful weather day in Atlantic City. Looking back at some of my photos, I see hints of blue. Trust me, if you were there in it, you wouldn’t have used the color blue in any description.

As I mentioned earlier, Steffie was not particularly thrilled with the Boardwalk. Still, I hadn’t been in at least ten years and Steffie had nothing better to do, so the three of us got the car and headed out.

I believe there’s a tax issue here, but another way Atlantic City differs from Vegas is that you’re charged for parking. We went to one of the Trump hotels and were hit up for $5 for the self park garage.

I should get a break for the mere fact that I was a registered New Jersey voter who originally voted to bring casino gambling in. Is there no loyalty?

The Boardwalk remains as tawdry as ever. Unfortunately, the first thing you notice is, there’s no beach to be seen! Oh, it’s there, but it’s hidden behind dunes which have been built to stave off erosion. Somehow, I would hope there’s a compromise between the beach disappearing physically and the beach disappearing visually. Maybe not.

All the casino hotels back on the Boardwalk. Because of the salty sea breeze they are stucco or ceramic facades. It would be foolish to expose too much metal here. Still, the lack of chrome and glass and the salty coating makes everything dull, including the colors.

Other than the casinos, here’s what you’ll find on the Boardwalk: psychics, t-shirt shops, old arcades, a few food joints, Steel’s Fudge and birds. The number of birds on the Boardwalk is astounding. Some hotels and other businesses have strategically placed metallic spikes to keep the birds from roosting. But they’re around 24/7. There are constant sources of food, both discarded and offered.

There is one older apartment building that seemed to be home to thousands of birds. They would fly in an intricately choreographed swarm and then light on small outcroppings.

Some of the outer structure of the building, hopefully not weight bearing, has crumbled away. Maybe it’s because of what the birds leave behind. Maybe it’s the salt air. Probably it’s a combination of the two and too little maintenance.

Steffie and Helaine went to Steele’s to get some fudge. It’s really great. A true Atlantic City treat. I believe pound for pound Steele’s fudge has more sugar than sugar!

We popped into Trump Plaza on our way to and from the beach. I remember thinking, years ago, how gaudy and yet upscale it looked. Not anymore. Everything seems small, crowded and a bit seedy.

As we walked by an outside window, a Trump Security vehicle pulled up. It was old, sort of beaten up, and had letters missing from its name. The Donald would not be thrilled – though this vehicle is the least of his Atlantic City problems.

Back at The Borgata we had dinner at the buffet again. There’s no doubt I’ll be dieting again as soon as I can! Buffets are my undoing.

The comedy club at the hotel runs seven days a week. Monday is when the new acts begin. So Helaine got tickets and we got to see another three comics working hard.

First up was Jim McCue. He just couldn’t get started – couldn’t get the audience warmed up. About 15 minutes in, he started talking to the audience, again going nowhere. He had some funny bits and maybe as second up he would have done better.

Next was Rob Magnotti. He is a talented impressionist, but he needs better material to support his voices and movements.

The ‘headliner’ was Kenny Rogerson. He was very funny – top notch. It’s interesting how a comedian’s performance often hinges more on his command of the stage and audience than jokes. I thought this guy took charge from the beginning and there was no doubt he was going to be funny. That’s very important and then he followed through.

It was 10:30 when the show ended. We said goodnight to Steffie and I headed to the basement and poker. Unlike the weekend, the list for the $10/$20 Texas Hold’em table was short. Within 10 minutes I was in the back ‘room’ playing.

The players at this table were older than those I had been with over the weekend. One man, who the dealers called by his first name, sat a few chairs down from me. I had played with him earlier and he had been a putz. He continued on that track.

Of the ten at the table, I would guess 5 or 6 were regulars or semi-regulars. This was tougher competition than what I had faced earlier.

Within the first few hands I played a big pocket pair (I think it was Kings, maybe Queens) only to get busted on the river (someone had caught good cards to beat me – the best hand when dealt). I was down over $100 and the night was young.

I wavered a little, crawling up and down, but by the time Helaine stopped downstairs to check on me (she called me on the cell phone from within the poker room because she couldn’t see me in this back area) I had shed nearly $200. My play was fine, but the cards weren’t great and the competition was.

I had bought in with $300, getting $20 in white $1 chips and the rest in $5’s. The chips at Borgata are a good idea gone bad. They are clean and new. Unfortunately, they have a tendency to stick together. Mention this to anyone and you’ll be told there’s a magnet inside – but that’s not true. If there was a magnet, at least some of the time it would repel. These always seems to stick together.

Over hours and hours of playing I had lots of time to look at the chips. I think I know where the problem lies. The chips are quite smooth. There are no grooves or ribbing anywhere around. The center inset is depressed ever so slightly – a few fractions of an inch. When two chips come together, a vacuum is formed between the chips in that tiny cavity. It’s enough to make it cumbersome to separate them easily as their natural tendency is to stay together.

Before Helaine left, I won a hand. It was fairly big and I quickly moved from minus to plus. I continued playing until nearly 2:00 AM. At one point I said to myself, as soon as I won a hand, I’d walk. And, I won the very next hand from the small blind position.

At the end, I was up $253 for the night and, as I previously mentioned, the trip was a remarkable success at the poker table. Each time I sat down, I cashed out a winner.

Of course that got me to thinking about what I did right.

First of all, I played my cards. I know that sounds foolish, as that’s what you’re supposed to do. Sometimes, a player wants to look weaker than he is, or stronger. I’ve been guilty of those ruses myself – and often to my detriment. When I thought I was leading, I bet. When I felt behind I folded. Simple as that.

I didn’t play crap before the flop – didn’t chase. If a large number of players were in, and I was in a late position so I could see them bet before me, I’d sometimes play two suited cards or ‘connectors’ (like 9-10 or 7-8). Compared to the table, I was conservative.

If there were tells to be seen from me, no one seemed to catch on. And, to my surprise, my betting really didn’t affect many other people’s play. I was surprised at how few players folded to my raises. Weird.

These tables were fairly loose. Not as loose as some I’ve seen at lower stakes. Still, for a $10/$20 table, I was amazed at how many players saw the flop, even after a raise.

I was lucky, but not overly so in having my cards hold up. I would hope I could replicate my play for similar, if not quite as lucrative, results.

At one point I brought up the subject of on-line play. No one at the table played on-line. To me, the thousands and thousands of hands I’ve played have been my real poker education. I can’t vouch for its honesty in ring games, as I’ve heard stories. But it seems that it would be tough to cheat in the tournaments on a regular basis.

I left the poker room, found Helaine and we got to the room at about 3:00 AM.

Today was getaway day, and pretty uneventful. There was one piece of high tech equipment that caught my eye on our way out. At the valet parking stand is a sophisticated computer system. As each car goes in or out, six cameras take a photo, getting a detailed look at the entire car. Any pre-existing damage is beautifully documented! And, as the cars go in and out, the valet ticket and the ID of the driver are both recorded.

I asked the driver who delivered our car if this system pays for itself. No pause, “yes.”

Blogger’s note: I’ve posted some pictures from the trip in my photo gallery. All the shots with this entry are there, but in a larger, more readable size.

There Are No Bad Days on Vacation

Helaine had trouble sleeping and was up (relatively) early. I caught a little bit more, but that was basically ‘it’ for me. Even if I would have found deep sleep Cousin Michael called, causing the cell phone to buzz across the nightstand.

The five of us met for breakfast, with my folks, at the Caribe Caf

Greetings From Las Vegas

Good morning from seat 7F, cruising at 35,000 feet. I’m typing this aboard our non-stop Southwest flight to Las Vegas. Outside the plane, the Sun is shining. Puffy white clouds sit thousands of feet below. The ride is smooth.

As is customary on getaway day, we were up early. Very early. Outside, it was pouring. The Accuweather meteorologist on WCBS (they hide the fact that it’s Accuweather providing their forecasts since co-owned WINS has promoted Accuweather exclusivity for years) said there were thunderstorms and flooding in the area.

With a plethora of unused cell phone minutes, I transferred our home phone to my cell number. We’ll see how that works.

Instead of pulling the car out front, I loaded the bags in the garage. Farther to carry, but worth it to stay dry. If I needed to, I could have rearranging for more room, but with casual throws, the bags filled the rear of the Explorer.

It’s a holiday, so the traffic was light. Parking the car and the ride to the terminal were uneventful. Checking the bags was not.

We have locks on our bags. The locks are approved by the TSA and their employees are supposed to have master keys. The screener said he could get a key, but it would be easier if we’d unlock them and he’d see they were locked before hitting the log flume ride they take on their way to the plane.

As Helaine watched, they went through the X-Ray machine and then onto the belt without being relocked. By the time she told me, they were on their way downstairs – unlocked.

It’s not as if someone wants to steal my underwear, but there are some valuable items in there. It was out of the TSA’s control. If Southwest wanted to help, they could… and they did.

My hero is Jeanette, a counter agent at Southwest. She went downstairs and found my bags. And, when the lock wouldn’t work, she called the desk and asked me to help her on the phone.

There’s another reason to like Jeanette. This morning at 12:01 AM, I went on Southwest’s website to print boarding passes. Helaine and Steffie got into Group “A”. Because my ticket used a paper frequent flyer voucher, I couldn’t get a pass. When Jeanette saw our plight, she hand wrote a note on my boarding pass to let us go together.

Neither task was a big deal, but she did both with a smile, even though she was working at an ungodly hour on, what to most folks was, a holiday morning. She is part of the reason we have switched our allegiance to Southwest. There will be a note sent to Southwest commending her when we return.

The flight got off on time.

I like to sleep while flying, and did sleep a little, but this was a “Gus Souflas” flight. Gus is… or probably was a pilot for a major airline. One day, as my friend Howard flew coast-to-coast, Gus decided to note the crossing of every state boundary.

Today’s pilot was on the PA four or five times, always ending with the exact distance to Las Vegas.

From the air it’s astounding to see how much of the country looks empty. No disrespect to folks who live in the ‘great flyover’ but there does seem to be loads of unused space.

We flew south of Denver, over Colorado Springs. As we crossed the Rockies, there were still lots of snow covered peaks. No mountain was ‘capped’ with snow, like an idyllic picture of Mt. Fuji, but there were many veins of white.

We got to Las Vegas right on time. There’s construction in the baggage claim area and things were really jammed up. Thankfully, all our bags came – though the locks never were locked on one of the bags.

We went to Dollar to get our car. We had reserved a Dodge Intrepid, or similar. They were out of that class of car, so they said take a Pacifica – a car I’d never heard of, but turns out to be a six passenger, roomy cross between a van and SUV.

When we went to check out, the amount on our contract was different than what we were quoted. Unreal! It always happens. Is this a scam or what?

I had to go back to the office and work it out, which removes the advantage of being a Dollar Fast Lane member. But, things are now correct – and the car is nice.

My parents are seeing Mama Mia tonight at Mandalay Bay. The tickets were on Helaine’s name. So, we stopped there (and I double parked in what looked like a bus area) and she went to the box office. Then we stopped at Walgreen’s for a few cases of water.

I have never seen Las Vegas more crowded. It’s unreal. The sidewalks are jammed with people and Las Vegas Boulevard moved at a crawl. We turned in to the Mirage valet area and ended up in a long line of cars. Helaine got out while I made my way to the front of the line.

Helaine says nothing she asked for was here! Not a room near the elevator. Not two rooms nearby – one for us, one for Steffie and her friend Ali. Not a Strip view.

Still, the room is very nice. After all, it’s the Mirage – one of the most beautiful hotels in Las Vegas.

On the way to the room we ran into my folks and then my sister and brother-in-law. Only Cousin Michael, Melissa and Max are AWOL. I’m sure we’ll see them soon.

Meanwhile, a call to the Bell Desk says it will be at least 30 minutes until we get our bags! Helaine can’t wait. She’s showering. I’m writing.

More later from Fabulous Las Vegas.

Watching The Team In Action

Ann, our evening co-anchor, and I were on our way back from dinner when my cell phone started to vibrate. It was the assignment desk calling. There had been a major accident on I-95 in Bridgeport. Details were sketchy. It was a tractor trailer, full of fuel oil, and there was a huge fireball. We didn’t know exactly what was going on – but it was big.

I handed the phone to Ann. As she talked, I sped through the city, toward the TV station five minutes away.

“Ann, I’m going to run this light,” I said at a lonely intersection about halfway there. And I did.

We returned to the newsroom, which had moved from its normal routine to a more frenetic pace. The chopper was flying in from its hangar in Chester. The DOT had removed access to the traffic cameras near the scene (I have no idea why they do this – but they always do). The assignment desk was buzzing, making and taking calls.

Before the cameras went away, Jeff Bailey (left), our webmaster and a former show producer, had scoured the DOT’s web based cameras and plucked a shot of flames in a nearby building. Those cameras too were soon removed. He said he was lucky, but it was instinct that told him to look.

There wasn’t much for me, the weatherman, to do. So, I stepped back and took in the scene.

When there is breaking news, a newsroom is a fascinating place. It’s not just getting the story, but getting the story to those who will tell it. Then there’s coordinating all the disparate elements. Will the art department whip up a map? Can we move a reporter off an earlier story and down to the scene. Does the copter have enough gas to stay aloft? If it has to refuel, what’s the best time to do it… and where?

Is this a fact? Do we know for sure? Can’t guess. Gotta know.

Our news director was there, as was our 6:00 PM producer. The newsroom coordinator who had been in the neighborhood, stopped by, and was pressed into service. It was astounding to watch the flow.

I-95 is the busiest road in the country. The section cutting through Bridgeport, recent scene of years of construction, would be out of service for an indefinite period of time.

The desk checked the hospitals. We had gotten information – as it turns out bad information – that lots people were being taken to area hospitals. You can’t let bad information get on the air.

Reports came in, and checked out, that diesel oil carried by the tractor trailer had washed into a storm drain and was now heading to Long Island Sound through a nearby creek.

We went on the air, cutting into coverage of figure skating. The phones lit up as angry skating fans vented. It doesn’t make any difference what you’re covering or what you’re pre-empting. There are always calls.

The helicopter arrived on scene and Ann let Dennis Protsko, our chopper reporter do his thing. Later, Keith would anchor a cut-in, and then at 10:00, both of them together.

Having been in the chopper many times, I can tell you the best view is the view from our camera – not with the naked eye. Dennis has the advantage of both reporting and controlling the camera. I had watched in a monitor as he approached the scene. The camera, on a mount between the copter’s skids, darted back and forth as he scanned the scene. As he told his story on-the-air, the video followed along.

Other reporters, cameramen and live trucks arrived on the scene and we started to fill in details. We broke in twice during skating, did an extended 10:00 PM news and then our normal 11:00.

It was exciting to watch everything come together. TV news is normally heavily scripted and produced. This was seat of the pants – and it was great.

The directors fought off our control room automation system. They would need to make instant decisions – not preset ones. That’s not what the system does best – but no one would ever know tonight.

I don’t wish this kind of tragedy on anyone. But, when something big happens, I want to see the people I work with step up to the plate – and they did.

I’ll see the ratings tomorrow, but they’re not the indicator of what we did. We couldn’t go door-to-door telling people to turn us on. What we had to do on a night like this was convince those who were watching that we were masterful (and we were). Then, next time it hits the fan, maybe they’ll come back.

I’m really lucky to have been there and watched this. If you work in a team environment, this is what you’d want your team to do.

I can’t be accepted as an unbiased observer here. Of course I have a stake in how we do. But, I mean every word. I wouldn’t write it if it weren’t true.

Note: As great a job as we did, the best photo of the night goes to the Connecticut Post and photographer Christian Abraham. It is their photo, so I can’t post it, just link to it. This will win some prize, for sure.