In Which I Save Christmas

I've never been so proud to work tech support. I saved someone's Christmas today.

The fellow had a $1300 computer with a problem that was keeping him from using it. He was starting up his brand new computer and configuring Windows, but his USB keyboard wasn't working. He'd spent a couple hours on the phone with the computer's manufacturer (or at least, their India-outsourced tech support), who finally threw up their hands and told him he'd have to take it back to the store. So he figured he'd try my company instead and see if we could do any better for him.

As I listened to him describe the problem, I remembered a time or two in the past when I had a similar problem, setting up computers of my own—for some reason, Windows sometimes doesn't do USB device detection before it's been configured. I asked if he had another keyboard, and he did—an old PS/2 model.

So I had him try it. More importantly, I had him turn off the computer before plugging it in, which the computer manufacturer did not have him do. (It's been so long since those PS/2 connectors were used regularly that nobody remembers they're not meant to be hot-swappable.) And voila, his $1300 computer worked.

Thanks to me, that guy gets to spend Christmas playing games on his new computer. rather than grumpy followed by taking it back for a problem he didn't need to take it back for at all. I solved a problem that the computer's own manufacturer couldn't.

In short: I kick ass.

Merry Christmas, everyone. Even though I'm going to be working during it, it's already been one for me.

In Which I Save Christmas

I've never been so proud to work tech support. I saved someone's Christmas today.

The fellow had a $1300 computer with a problem that was keeping him from using it. He was starting up his brand new computer and configuring Windows, but his USB keyboard wasn't working. He'd spent a couple hours on the phone with the computer's manufacturer (or at least, their India-outsourced tech support), who finally threw up their hands and told him he'd have to take it back to the store. So he figured he'd try my company instead and see if we could do any better for him.

As I listened to him describe the problem, I remembered a time or two in the past when I had a similar problem, setting up computers of my own—for some reason, Windows sometimes doesn't do USB device detection before it's been configured. I asked if he had another keyboard, and he did—an old PS/2 model.

So I had him try it. More importantly, I had him turn off the computer before plugging it in, which the computer manufacturer did not have him do. (It's been so long since those PS/2 connectors were used regularly that nobody remembers they're not meant to be hot-swappable.) And voila, his $1300 computer worked.

Thanks to me, that guy gets to spend Christmas playing games on his new computer. rather than grumpy followed by taking it back for a problem he didn't need to take it back for at all. I solved a problem that the computer's own manufacturer couldn't.

In short: I kick ass.

Merry Christmas, everyone. Even though I'm going to be working during it, it's already been one for me.

First Coming

He did not wait till the world was ready, till men and nations were at peace.
He came when the Heavens were unsteady and prisoners cried out for release.
He did not wait for the perfect time. He came when the need was deep and great.
He dined with sinners in all their grime, turned water into wine.
He did not wait till hearts were pure, In joy he came to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.
To a world like ours, of anguished shame he came, and his Light would not go out.
He came to a world that did not mesh, to heal its tangles, shield its scorn.
In the mystery of the Word made Flesh, the Maker of the stars was born.
We cannot wait until the world is sane to raise our songs with joyful voice,
for to share our grief, to touch our pain, He came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!

–Madeleine L’Engle

First Coming

He did not wait till the world was ready, till men and nations were at peace.
He came when the Heavens were unsteady and prisoners cried out for release.
He did not wait for the perfect time. He came when the need was deep and great.
He dined with sinners in all their grime, turned water into wine.
He did not wait till hearts were pure, In joy he came to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.
To a world like ours, of anguished shame he came, and his Light would not go out.
He came to a world that did not mesh, to heal its tangles, shield its scorn.
In the mystery of the Word made Flesh, the Maker of the stars was born.
We cannot wait until the world is sane to raise our songs with joyful voice,
for to share our grief, to touch our pain, He came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!

–Madeleine L’Engle