Wednesday 18 September 2013

We Do Apologize


Cox Communications, which has been lauded by telecom studies as having the highest telephone service provider ratings in the west, leaves much to be desired when it comes to basic customer service.  Case in point:  Transferring service within the same area.

You, Mr. Customer, may be under the impression that you can contact the company, speak to a rep, and, have your issue addressed satisfactorily, but you would be incorrect in your assumption.  What you will encounter, instead, are employees unable to comprehend spoken language and incapable of correctly notating a numerical address.  Oh sure, the really advanced ones can probably walk and chew gum at the same time, but Cox usually installs those wizards into executive offices.

In what can only be described as a Three Stooges episode, I attempted to transfer my telephone service.  I had done so twice before on separate occasions during this past year, and, it was executed flawlessly and in a timely manner.  But fast forward to September, and, I'm not sure what exactly happened in the meantime, but since the last time I transferred service, two months prior, the company has apparently nosedived into incompetency and ineptitude.

The first incident that should have tipped me  off that Cox had deteriorated into a mickey mouse operation was the inability to pay a bill via the auto-payment system.  Ordinarily, the customer was able to dial the number and then routed through the system. It was all very efficient.  You input your phone number and credit card details, and then the system finds and credits your account accordingly.  Easy peasy.  No fuss no muss.  It had been like this for over a decade that I am aware of because that is how long I have had services with Cox Communications.  But this time, the auto-pay system was not working.  Instead, I was routed to a live rep, who then wanted to charge me $10.00 for the privilege of taking payment.

I explained that I wasn't speaking to her because I wanted to – that the system had connected me to her line by default because the auto-pay was apparently not in working order.  The rep was confused, but then this is not in any way news.  In large companies like Cox, it is standard operating procedure that one hand has no clue what the other is doing, especially as regards employees.  In the quest for ever larger profit margins, service and performance are routinely sacrificed as a matter of course on the altar of the god of the Dow Jones.  And unless customers complain en masse about it, the company continues to coast on its previously stellar reputation, and, the profits continue to roll in.  It really works out fabulously for the company in a country where the telecom industry has bought off pet politicians to ensure that there is a duopoly of providers in any given US market.

In effect, the company upwardly fails.  And because of the service duopoly, the customer has very little recourse.  In fact, the only other competitor will most likely be just as inept and overpriced as the provider you are leaving.  Don't you just love how telecommunications and broadband works here?  There is no meaningful competition because we have a pay-to-play government that never met a big business that it wouldn't allow itself to be bought off by.  Meanwhile, we, as a country, are being left in the dust because in other parts of the world, internet service is 1/3rd the cost and broadband speeds are 10x faster.  But that is fodder for a future discussion.

In attempting to pay the bill, there was a problem with the prepaid debit card that I intend to detail in a future piece, so let's just focus on the Cox debacle currently before us.  Long story short, the bill was eventually taken care of, but in attempting to have the number ported, I continued to experience a three ring circus.

I spoke to four different Cox employees within a 96-hour time frame, and, each of them assured me that I would have service that very evening.  Suffice it to say, I had to keep calling back to ensure that they had all the details, correctly noted, because I just didn't trust that the employee fully comprehended the objective.  (They didn't.)

One rep had canceled the account outright, which in turn, generated an ensuing tsunami of complications and difficulties.  Another attempted to fix the previous screw up, but never noted the transfer service address correctly in the system.  Each time I was told I would be given a call back to provide a status update, and, each time, that was not the case.  The last employee I spoke with in customer service could barely communicate – she sounded high and spoke like she had a mouth full of marbles.  I don't think this was attributable to a drug problem as much as it was a brain problem, as in, lack of.

Finally, I was inexplicably routed to someone in technical support.  The employee in this department seemed like she possessed an IQ slightly higher than room temperature, but then again, this isn't brain surgery that I required.  All I wanted was for her to check that the transfer-to address was correct in the system, and, to tell me when I would have telephonic services restored.  She was able to provide the barest minimum of service and communication, but also took attitude with me.  When I attempted to express the level of frustration I was experiencing as a direct result of Cox Communication’s incompetency, she sanctimoniously reminded me that she didn't have to be spoken to in such a manner. Well la-dee-da, Miss America. Seriously?

If the employees detailed here are the best that Cox has to offer, then it needs to recalibrate and substantively retrain everyone sitting in its customer service departments across the country because if all of its employees are like the ones I had to deal with, they are not able to perform even on a fundamental level. They should should be pushing a broom or scrubbing a toilet, not sitting behind a computer talking to customers.

In a country that is currently under and unemployed, I won't buy that there aren't quality people out there currently looking for work that can do the job.  What I can believe, however, is that age 30 is the cutoff age, and, so today's customer base is forced to deal with a bunch of halfwits, and, evidently, they all work for Cox.

Way to go, Cox Communications.  I'm giving you the Golden Mediocrity Award for failure of leadership, as well as hiring the most inept and incompetent employees on the planet.  Oddly enough, JD Powers and Associates, the outfit that continually blows sunshine up Cox's rear bumper for excellent telecom services, has nothing to say about employees, however.

©2014 Greensleeves and GreensleevesBikinIt.  Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog's author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.  Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is giving to Greensleevs and GreensleevesBikinIt with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.


Saturday 31 August 2013

Android NextP12-8G Review

The NextP12-8G is a 7-inch tablet featuring the Android Ice Cream Sandwich 4.0 operating system, and, at $69.99, is currently flying off the shelves of the local *mart store.

It features:

Wi-Fi 802.11 b/g/n
800 x 480 resolution
Google Play App Store
Ebook Store
Internal Speaker
8 GB internal storage
5 GB Cloud storage from Sugar sync
Micro USB
Micro SD Card Slot
3.5mm Earphone Jack
Microphone

The Good

If you're looking for a relatively inexpensive, light-weight, wireless device to check email, find an address, and to otherwise screw off on the various social networks, then the NextP12-8G is your huckleberry.  It's convenient to have in your bag when you have some time to pull it out, grab some public wi-fi, and spend catching up with your contacts in a cursory fashion.  And the Google App store makes downloading and installing the various apps such as Facebook® a snap. 

The Bad

All that being said, as versatile as the NextP12 is, don't mistake it for something that will enable any kind of substantive productivity.  Sure, you can get online with it and download all the latest apps such as Evernote and Google Drive, and, it if you go balls-to-the-wall and possess a very high tolerance for frustration, you could probably make it work for you. 

The NextP12 doesn't just have a nasty habit of jumping out of an app back to the desktop, thereby destroying any momentum you may have had, but a little over half way through fiscal year 2013, and, already it is obsolete technology.  I had wanted to install the Blogger app to help upload and publish to my pages, but the device is not compatible with the latest build. Same goes for Foursquare, as well as a host of other "hot" apps that the P12 just cannot utilize due to age.

As a writer on the go, I maintain several blogs and social media; an always-on lifestyle is a requirement for me, and, since I have not yet achieved an independently wealthy economic status as of yet, I have to keep my electronic purchases on the budget-minded side, but the wireless device in question is not something you should buy if you're serious.  The NextP12 is more along the lines of something you purchase for your seven year old and hand over to him to play Angry Birds in the backseat while you drive over to Grandma's. 

The Truly Horrific

Oh and better make sure that your child is ADD, and, that trip to Grandma's is under an hour because a gnat has a longer lifespan than the fully charged battery life of the NextP12.  Even if you switch off wi-fi, sync, animated wallpaper and email notifications, which are notorious energy drainers, the longest time you can go with the fully charged juice is approximately 45 minutes.  Call me naïve, but somehow, I expected that a wireless device that packs so much potential (and is already obsolete 8 months into the year) would have a much longer battery life.  Guess the joke's on me.

The NextP12 is disappointing, and, probably the only saving grace about it is that as inferior as it is, it can still get you online at home assuming it is the only device in your electronic arsenal whose internet connectivity still functions.  My PC's on-board ethernet adapter stopped functioning, and now I get to enjoy the random Blue Screen of Death because when one component on a motherboard goes on the fritz, it pretty much thrashes the entire system.  But then this is what we as a society get when the bottom line is built-to-fail electronics by design, rather than as a bug.


©2013 Greensleeves and Heart Like A Wheel blog.  Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog's author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.  Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Greensleeves and Heart Like A Wheel blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Thursday 15 August 2013

Help! I've been SWAM'd. Now What?

The following is the second installment of my LinkedIn SWAM series. Part one can be found here.

Please note:  The names of individuals and groups have been changed to protect the guilty and avoid any frivolous lawsuit(s).

The professional networking site, LinkedIn, has been making a big splash lately becoming Wall Street's latest darling.  Its stock price and earnings report are way up this quarter and the mainstream media, particularly, the Washington Post, can't seem to blow enough sunshine up Owner/CEO Jeff Weiner's caboose. But what you aren't hearing about is the network's SWAM policy.  That's because it's best that you don't else it might make you reconsider shelling out for the privilege of a premium account.

But if you post comments to a group, sooner or later, SWAM will get you, and, you will find yourself, metaphorically speaking, that is, at the bottom of the social network's shiny, Olympic-sized pool, pretty much dead in the water. SWAM (Site Wide Auto Moderation) is supposed to counteract spamming activity, but as is the usual outcome when using a chainsaw to swat a fly, the results are ridiculously absurd.  SWAM won't just rear its ugly snakehead and bite you in the backside; SWAM is Medusa on the rag and then some. 

Say whut?

You read that correctly; I didn't stutter.  Tell you what. As long as we're bein' girlfrenz, lemme share my own personal SWAM story, wit'cha.  You may be horrified, or you may be amused (or both) but I can promise that you will shake your head, screw up your face and ask out loud, What in the actual fscuk?


Everybody SWAM Now


My odyssey began when I tried to join a group.  I prepare legal documents for a living, which is also known under certain circumstances as being a paralegal, which is further known as doesn't make $400.00/hr. despite knowing what an attorney does.  I can't remember why I was so intent on joining the group in question.  Or maybe I was just so traumatized by the outcome that I don't want to.  Henceforth, the group shall be known as Dewy, Screw, Em, and Howe.  

So there I was knock, knock, knockin' tryin' to get my foot in the door.  It was the kind of group that you don't just waltz into lickety-split.  Your membership must first be (cue the dramatic dun-dun-dun sound effects) approved.  Like you're tryin' to party like it's 1920 and all you wanna do is get into some gin joint downtown that you know serves hooch instead of birch beer. Sistah please.

After about a week-and-a-half, my request to join hadn't been answered.  OK, fine. Maybe the owner/moderator was bizzy.  And so I waited another coupla weeks before deciding to contact her directly and gently prompt to, yunno, approve my request.  I specifically used the word gently to describe my correspondence because I didn't want to appear to be obnoxiously desperate about it.

Eventually, I was approved to join Dewy, Screw, Em and Howe.  Hallelujah!  But the owner, let's call her Sue (as in, poison sumac)  made it a point to let me know in no uncertain terms, that she would be monitoring my activity.  I have no idea why my personal commentary should be so deserving of speshul attention, but awright.  

A couple months into it, I just lurked.  There wasn't a lot of useful discussion going on, and, what little of it there was seemed to me to be a whole lotta bloviating mostly coming from Sue.  It was clear that she had a very high opinion of herself, and, her little cheering section agreed with every single thing that she said.  I always thought of them as the bobblehead brigade, and, found it odd that absolutely everyone agreed about everything 100% across the board 100% of the time. Also, I felt a little apprehensive about adding my two cents for fear of ruffling feathers.  This group of women was obviously the online version of a Stepford community.  Consequently, and since I wasn't getting anything out of it anyway, I was going to be on my merry way.  

I made the mistake of announcing my exit with some light-hearted comment that was not intended to be anything beyond a cheery-O, yet somehow it had been interpreted exactly the opposite.  Sheesh. You offer someone a sincere compliment on their mustache and suddenly, she's not your friend anymore. 

But before I could navigate out to settings and find the leave group button, BAM! Sue had activated SWAM and fixed my little, red wagon so that I couldn't comment anywhere else, either.  Of course, at the time, I did not realize what had happened. It wasn't until a few weeks after the fact that I figured out my comments weren't being published.  And because LinkedIn has quite the not-even-ready-for-beta-phase web site, I just chalked it up to a glitch.  

Some more time went by, I guess it was about a month, and the web site was still glitching because I still wasn't seeing my posts published.  This was getting ridiculous now.  What in the what was going on?  I conducted some recon on the web and was able to determine from others describing the same problem with posting to their existing groups that I had been locked away in a spammer's gulag.  Some random person had suggested contacting LinkedIn about the matter and so I did.  Eventually, I got a reply from customer support advising me to (ta da!) contact my groups' owners/mods and ask for permission to post.  I did not fully understand the mother-may-I routine since support hadn't bothered to be all that detailed, but OK.  

Not fully comprehending how SWAM works, and not being able to find any info on it in any of the terms of service on the site, or for that matter, anywhere else on the web, my first correspondence was to poison sumac.  I asked her politely to reinstate permission to post. From there, I just went down the list of groups and contacted the owners with the same polite request.  It never occurred to me to join other groups because all my contacts were concentrated in the ones I was prohibited from commenting in.

Fortunately, at the time, I had only five or six groups that I participated in sporadically, so it was not a catastrophic loss.  Annoying, but not the kiss of death as is so often the case for other professionals who have been SWAM'd and have spent countless hours cultivating relationships, generating leads, marketing and so forth.

I waited quite a long time and not one of my groups' owners/mods bothered to reply.  OK, fine.  In a fit of I don't know what, I abruptly decided to just leave certain groups.  I thought maybe that would somehow trigger something in my favor.  (I didn't know what leaving would accomplish after the fact, but I have a background in QA software testing, and was just throwing the jello at the wall to see what would stick.)  

The only one who bothered to reply to me (two months later) was Sue.  She decided to channel her inner Cersei Lannister and give me a good verbal lashing, only, you know, she was a lot less clever and a lot more mean-spirited about it.  Sue proceeded to pick apart my profile and offer unsolicited advice as to what I should include versus not.  Okaaaay.  I didn't know to what exactly I owed the honor of a profile makeover. I try not to make enemies over trivial matters if I can help it, so I thought that if I humored her, she would throw the OK-to-post switch.  It was my understanding at the time that I just needed one group to approve my ability to post and then I'd be golden to post elsewhere again. But she just disappeared instead.

More time passed (months, actually) and then, just as I was about to delete my account, one of the other group mods replied to me and reinstated my ability to post in that group. I later found out that the groups that I had left after I had been SWAM'd stops their ability to initiate SWAM a second time. Then I simply rejoined the groups that I had left after I had been SWAM'd.  Please note:  Group owners/mods will still have the ability the suspend/delete any comments they want to within their own group(s), but your comments elsewhere won't be suspended in the process. This is an important distinction to make as I stumbled upon it quite serendipitously.  Since I'm the only who has noticed this, be advised that your mileage may and does vary.  


Houston, We Have A Problem


It would really help to clarify to members exactly how SWAM works -what it is, what happens when you block participants from commenting, etc.  Sure, some won't read the memo, but at the very least, detailed information that is pertinent to group controls should be available in an FAQ in the Community Guidelines.

Some group owners/mods contend that LinkedIn sent a network wide memo back in January 2013 explaining SWAM, while others insist that was not the case.  Subsequently, it has been difficult to investigate and otherwise gather anything substantive. The members who know what SWAM is fall into one of two camps. Either they are very confused or they are very pissed off.  And rightfully so.  LinkedIn is supposed to be about networking. Networking means you spend righteous amounts of time marketing your services/goods and developing a rapport with your contacts.  It is completely unacceptable that this can  be wiped out without any sort of due process or even an official appeal. Instead, LinkedIn has taken a hands-off approach and put the onus on the member who has been SWAM'd to clear his good name with group owners/mods who are unwilling/unable or just plain ignorant of how group controls work. How fair is that to the members who are the site's lifeblood?

One thing is for sure, LinkedIn management has taken a hard line and is loath to publicly admit very much about SWAM.  Based on the testimonials provided by others in the SWAM Support group on LI, I don't imagine the company changing its stance any time soon.  The good times are rollin' for it on Wall Street, and, a program like SWAM with its unintended consequences could potentially be the turd in the pool that scares off the party-goers.

Suffice it to say, there was no lesson for me to learn as a result of this particular experience because I hadn't done anything wrong in the first place except to join a group whose owner/mod was definitely not functioning within normal parameters.  I was simply an innocent dolphin caught up in the big, bad SWAM fishing net.

I have since started working LinkedIn a lot more hardcore than what I previously did, and, I belong to a lot more groups, but I won't be paying for a premium membership so long as there is precious little information or any meaningful recourse available to members who have been SWAM'd. I just don't see the point in paying for a service if my ability to participate in my favorite group discussions site wide is based on the say-so of any group owner/mod who can banish me to a dungeon indefinitely, and, negating in the process, all of my hard work spent in my groups networking with my contacts.

Are you listening, Jeff Weiner?  



©2013 Greensleeves and Heart Like A Wheel blog.  Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.  Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Greensleeves and Heart Like A Wheel blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. 


  








Wednesday 14 August 2013

SWAM Is Swallowing LinkedIn

The following is the first part in a two part series regarding LinkedIn SWAM. Part two can be found here.

LinkedIn, a professional networking website, is making all kinds of waves lately. Its stock price is arrow up, and, Wall Street is creaming itself thanks to a 62% reported earnings increase for this quarter versus last.  But there is another wave hitting the social network, and, it hasn't received any attention at all from the mainstream press.  

The digital tsunami known as SWAM is wreaking havoc and raging unabated. Largely unacknowledged by the network (and nowhere to be found in either the Users Agreement or Community Guidelines) and unbeknownst to most LinkedIn members (who don't read terms of service agreements anyway) SWAM stands for Site Wide Auto Moderation.  It was supposed to combat spam, but, like any other well-intended measure that is meant to be a benefit, it has quickly turned into a hazard, and an annoying one at that.  Think of SWAM as LinkedIn's own mini-version of the federal government's No Fly list. You don't find out that you're on it until after you attempt air travel, and, once you know you're on it, there is no way to find out why you were put there or how you can be removed.  Well, you can certainly try, but even Sisyphus would tell you that you're acting the fool.  Now, to be fair to LinkedIn, if  you do happen to get SWAM'd, you can always contact customer support, but the cure is as bad as the disease. Here's how it works.

A spammer continues to post his garbage in the group comments.  The group's owner/manager/moderator grows tired of seeing it and bans the spammer from the group. Now the SWAM is fully enabled site wide and every group the spammer belongs to forces his comments into a time-out and won't post.  Yay for anti-spamming controls! 

Except SWAM does not quite function as smoothly and flawlessly as must have been imagined by LinkedIn management.

Spammers are always ten steps ahead of this sort of pest control and so it's not a problem to just create another account and begin happily spamming all over again under another name. What SWAM does do, unfortunately, is to punish the rule-abiding members who are just trying to network with their fellow humans.  And if you happen to express an opinion that is unpopular with a group and/or the group's owner happens to be a petty tyrant who is threatened by anyone with a perspective different from his own, you can just as easily be sharing the same cell block along with the spammers. Of course, remember that since SWAM is site wide, you will also be prohibited from commenting in all of your other groups as well.  

If you contact LinkedIn, it will tell you that you must contact each and every owner/moderator of each and every group you belong to and ask to be permitted to post. And while this may sound beautiful in theory (only if you're in the air conditioned section of Hell, maybe) the reality is that most owners/moderators do not respond. Like ever. Whether this is due to ignorance, apathy, or just plain malice, there is no way to know; the result is the same.  You are left for dead in a digital gulag and will remain there unless and until your groups' owner/moderator decides to let you out.

But let's say, arguendo, that you succeed in reestablishing yourself in one of your groups, and the group owner/moderator decides to ban you thereafter.  After all, you've been branded as a spammer, so he has taken it upon himself to preemptively nuke you from perpetrating the same activity in his digital fiefdom. Now, you must start the process of contacting each of your groups owners/moderators all over again.  Isn't networking fun? (Especially if you're paying the premium monthly price for the privilege of using LinkedIn).  One look at the minimum price of $39.95 per month certainly lets us know exactly where all the money is rolling in from, doesn't it.  And that's just for the cheap tier.  The super duper El Deluxe level is $399.95 per month. Small wonder Wall Street needs a change of skivvies.

So after reading about SWAM, the operative question then becomes what can you do? The answer is not much.  You can, I suppose, write an impact statement to LinkedIn informing it how SWAM has adversely affected your networking endeavors, and, that you disagree with the program, but good luck with that. Owner/CEO Jeff Weiner has not bothered to address the SWAM problem in any meaningful way, and, really, why should he. He already has your money and his company's finances are soaring into the stratosphere.  

In all matter of practicality, what you can do is stop paying for using the network, or don't bother to start in the first place until LinkedIn provides a substantive recourse for its ill-conceived and completely networking-blocking FUBAR.  Like say, a year's worth of FREE premium access for your trouble.  But don't hold your breath.  

Barring that you can also join the LinkedIn group SWAM (Site Wide Auto Moderation) Support and the G+ Community.  But don't expect a favorable result any time soon.  Like any other publicly traded corporate entity, LinkedIn does not pay attention to anything that does not adversely impact its bottom line.


©2013 Greensleeves and Heart Like A Wheel blog.  Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.  Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Greensleeves and Heart Like A Wheel blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. 






Saturday 3 August 2013

Interviewing: Multi-Modal Commute Style



The following is a true story. 

When you think about taking a bus, what immediately comes to mind?  Inconvenience? Sitting next to deodorant-challenged and/or featured guests from the Jerry Springer Show?  Well, sure, taking the bus encompasses all those things, but regardless of the negatives, and provided that you are up for the challenge, you can make public transportation work for you. Case in point:  Multi-modal transportation to interview for a job.

Yours truly recently had an interview with an employer located less than ten miles away from home.  Now you would think that a destination that close would be relatively easy to get to, even via the bus, right? 

Wrong.  Not so easy when the local public transportation authority that runs the show consists of a bunch of overpaid, inexplicably, self-congratulatory bureaucrats.  But that is another matter.  I'm here to tell you about my multi-modal transportation experience to a job interview.

Once I was able to ascertain the correct bus route to the interview,  transport was fairly straight-forward.  But then getting that information was the furthest thing from easy.  First, I called the bus transportation authority for help with scheduling the trip, but it was an exercise in futility mostly because the people answering the phones are not always knowledgeable or helpful.  Secondly, I checked the bus website to plan the trip, but that wasn't very helpful either for several reasons, mostly because I have to travel to a library to use the high speed internet connection as I do not have it at home anymore.  But it wasn't travelling to the library that was the problem -I make this trip all the time-  It was the library's internet connection. 

If you happen to be there any time after 2p.m. during the week, and, your trip was to use the internet to say, plan a bus trip from the website, then you won't be able to because of too many people trying to use the connection all at the same time.  The end result is that the connection is depreciated to slower than dial up.  I was shit out of luck that day, but fortunately, I had a friend who accessed the bus's website for me from her high speed connection at home and had better luck getting the correct bus route information.  Thereafter, I contacted the bus transportation authority to confirm, and this time, spoke with a rep who was helpful.
So now I had the necessary bus routes and times.  

Follow along with me now as I walk you through what you're in for if you take the bus.  My interview was at 11a.m. on Monday morning during the second week of January.  Although I reside in Southern California, contrary to popular belief, the temperature here is not sunny and 85° year round.  In fact, on this particular day, the temp was 40 degrees with some wind, which made it feel like 20 to me when I was on the bike.  Disclaimer:  I am from a cold climate and have been used to four seasons, but something happens when you move to a warmer climate -your body somehow forgets that you once functioned in freezing cold, snow and sleet.

The first bus was set to leave shortly after 8a.m., but published departure times and what time the bus actually shows up are two very different things.  Sometimes, the bus is right on time, but most times, it runs 10-20 minutes late.  Sometimes it doesn't even show up at all.  Delays can be attributed to various things such as mechanical failure and/or traffic, but that is less frequently the reason.  In my experience, delays are due to certain passengers that are not able to board the bus in a timely fashion. 

While it's all nice and politically correct to have those with mental and physical disabilities out in the general public and riding the bus along with everyone else, the reality is that it takes time to get these people seated, and, in some cases, it takes the driver a long time to securely belt the wheelchair to the bus. It would be one thing if everyone on board was set to be leisurely transported to say, a museum, but it's quite another when you're relying on the bus to get you to your job and you're delayed by passengers with special needs.  Twenty minutes late is not looked upon favorably by most employers.  It could cost you a job.  And anyway, why are there even special needs people on the regular, fixed route bus in the first place when the county has a paratransit van in operation that specifically and exclusively exists to pick them up home and then drop them off at their own front doors?  I don't pretend to understand why this wasn't the case that day the group home boarded for a day-trip, but OK.  I'll just grumble about it here.

Another reason why the bus will run late or not at all is attributable to death.  Yes, passengers have been known from time to time to drop over dead en route to wherever they were going.  It's unavoidable, and, what's more, if that should happen to your bus, then the scheduled route will be disrupted.  It just won't show for the time it was supposed to and you will have to wait an hour, or however long it takes the bus transportation authority to remove the body and get back on track. 

But let's return to my story.  I took the 8a.m. -ish bus when it arrived and was dropped off at 9a.m. relatively close to the connecting bus I had to take to the actual destination.  (Please note, an hour is about right when taking the bus even to destinations within 10 miles of the starting point.) I was unsure as to where the connecting stop was and so when I exited the bus, I was in a mad scramble to grab the bike off the rack and then haul ass up or down the street to find the correct bus stop.  Eventually, I did find it, worried the whole time I would miss my connecting bus, but as it turned out, the bus was running 10 minutes behind.  Lovely.

When the connector bus finally showed, I secured my bike back up on the rack, boarded the bus and ran my day pass through the ATM-like machine located by the driver.  Travel time approximately 12 minutes to my destination.  Time of arrival:  9:30a.m.  My interview is not until 11a.m.  So what do I do now?  Normally, I would find a place to relax outside -a food court, a smoker's court, a shopping plaza, etc. but all that was available in this instance was the smoker's court.  OK, not optimal, but not like anyone else was outside in the freezing cold sucking on a cancer stick.


The day was very bright, very sunny and very cold.  Although the sun was warm, the temperature was not very accommodating.  Ah yes, I remember when 40 degrees was a balmy winter day.  Not so after you have acclimated to a warmer clime.  I resolved that I would wait til 10:30 then go inside the building to the restroom to change into my interviewing attire.  (Yes, it is possible to transport just about anything if you have the right bag on your back.) But even though it was only an hour's wait time, it felt like 3 days.  I hadn't brought anything along to occupy my time, it was freezing cold, and the outdoor furniture was exceptionally uncomfortable. I'm thinking this furniture could easily have doubled as a water-boarding device.

At 10:30, I went inside to change.  The restroom was very warm compared to outside.  A few employees on the first floor used the facilities, but restroom usage was negligible at this time.  I selected the handicapped stall because of its size, and then changed out of my bike clothing into my interviewing attire.  It took just under 20 minutes as I also had to fix my hair, which had become mussed up due to the bandana I wear under my helmet to catch sweat and to otherwise keep the heat from rising out of the top of my head on a cold day.  I was way ahead of schedule and even had time to mess with the electronic directory located in front of the elevator banks which featured a map overview of the immediate area.  I was looking for the shortest route to the return bus home.

The interview itself proceeded without incident.  About as well as can be expected.  I wasn't thrilled to have to haul my bag containing my bike clothes, sneaks, seat post, water bottle and helmet, the latter of which always takes up a great deal of bag real estate, but it couldn't be helped.  If the interviewers noticed my back or even gave it a second thought, it was not evident to me.  Approximately an hour later, I had thanked them for the time and was told they would let me know one way or the other as to the success or lack thereof of my application.

I proceeded back downstairs  to the warm restroom to change back into my bike clothes, and this time, I'm not sure what the deal was, but it seemed to be peak shitting time in this particular restroom.  Had people working in the building chosen this restroom instead of the ones on their own floors because it was warmer?  Or was it more like they needed to drop a load and assumed the first floor head was going to afford a lot more privacy? Some people, when forced to shit in public restrooms, will deliberately seek out a disused head.  I have no idea why that is – maybe they just don't want their fellow co-workers to know that they shit?  Whatever the reasoning, it was bowel movement central at 10 of 12 noon that day in the restroom I was changing in.

Once back outside, people were in a big rush to get to the shopping plaza where they would purchase a fast food lunch.  It took me approximately 20 minutes to bike to the next bus stop, which was a different bus route from the one that brought me.  The return trip bus was not set to leave again until 3p.m.  But no matter.  I'd rather bike 2.5 miles than walk. 

I arrived at the next stop 35 minutes ahead of schedule and decided to pass the time on the comfy, wicker chairs at an outdoor food court.  During warmer weather, this is a pleasant way to pass the time because the cushions are very comfortable. (Or maybe my standards have been lowered so exponentially that anything other than concrete seems comfy to me.)  Although the sun was shining, but I was definitely not digging the cold temperature, which seemed to be getting a lot colder compared to the A.M. commute. 


At approximately 13 minutes before the bus was set to show up, I left the food court to head to the bus stop located nearby on the corner, but as I was pressing the walk button to cross the intersection, I noticed there was another biker waiting on that corner.  If you don't bus-bike then you have no idea why this is noteworthy.  But if you DO bus-bike, then you know that if another biker is waiting at the same stop you are, then the possibility exists that when the bus comes along, there may not be a space on the rack for your ride as the rack only holds 2 bikes.  Oh hell no, I was not going to be shit out of luck that day if I could help it.

Determined NOT to have to wait another hour for the next bus to swing by because of a full bike rack, I hauled ass 400 feet down the sidewalk to the bus stop located before the one I was planning to wait at.  The better to head off the biker at the other stop and snag a spot on the rack.  I doubt the guy noticed, when I turned and pedaled off from the intersection, and, even if he did, I doubt he knew what was doing.  Some might say that I “stole” his spot on the rack, but I don't see it that way.  I didn't swipe a spot on the bike rack simply by going to another bus stop anymore than someone who shows up at the ass crack of dawn to shop to take advantage of holiday bargains is “stealing” anything.   


As it turned out, there was a spot on the rack for both my bike as well as the other biker's, but I was not going to leave that to chance.  I was caught once before on another trip having to let two buses go because of a full bike rack, and, I have resolved that I am not going to passively let that happen again if I can help it.

I exited this bus without incident and had to wait an additional 20 minutes for another bus to get back home, but overall, the events detailed here are typical for a multi-modal commute.


©2013 Greensleeves and Heart Like A Wheel blog.  Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.  Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Greensleeves and Heart Like A Wheel blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.





Sunday 21 July 2013

Riding the Bus: A Perspective

When I was a broke-ass student, my primary mode of transport was either the bus or my bike.  Pedaling a bike wasn't a bad thing because I've been on two wheels since I was four.  But I remember all too well that boarding the bus made me feel even more impoverished, almost as if the very thought of taking public transport was an enormous badge of shame. 

Back then, I didn't realize that being an American meant having been brainwashed from a very early age by the corporate plantation owners that only poor folk take the bus. Nay, all I could see was the end of a school term in a long series of sleep-deprived semesters and dead-end, minimum wage paying jobs that comprised the time I spent getting an education. But I was OK with it because I believed my indigence was temporary.

At long last, after finally having obtained a college degree, several years and thousands of dollars in student loan debt later, I thought I saw the light at the end of the tunnel.  As it turns out, however, that light was attached to an oncoming freight train headed straight for me. The awesome job a college education touted never seemed to materialize, but it wasn't because I hadn't looked. Then, as now, the economy was hostile to those entering the work force with a freshly minted degree. The U.S. was wrapping up the week-long first war in the Iraqi Gulf, and, the same set of assclowns that manufactured nine-eleven were in office under George Bush the First.

Suffice it to say, it was not an opportune time to be looking for a job with education as the only quiver in the quill. If only I had more work experience and better connections with the higher ups, then I might have been able to snag the ever elusive, corporate, well-paying job with kick-ass benefits, or so I thought. Instead, then, as now, I did the best I could with what I had to work with and took the only thing I could find at the time. I worked long hours for very low pay and zero benefits, but I was OK with it because, again, I thought the circumstances were temporary.

Fast-forward through two decades worth of living in a country whose Congressional representatives never met an industry that it couldn't enable the offshoring or outsourcing of quickly enough or import the highest number of guest workers to drive down wages exponentially, combined with soul crushing loan and credit card debt, smashed cars, and ever-stratospheric taxes and personal living expenses on wages that have been stagnant since the early 70s, and, I can tell you right here and now that had I known that the distortions and obfuscation of reality that is foisted upon the public and sold as the so called American Dream was built upon a house of cards, I wouldn't have bought into it the first place.

In fact, I probably could have gone the other direction and made quite the lucrative living as a white collar criminal for all the good going to college ever did. But, as ever, hindsight is always 20/20. We're all bubbling fonts spewing tsunamis of Zen-like wisdumb after the fact. And while I no longer think that my current situation is temporary, surprisingly, I'm OK with it.  That's just how I roll these days.  Economic PTSD  in these United States of, by and for the 1%  has a way of making some of the 99% not give too much of a damn about much of anything.

Today, I'm still taking the bus and riding my bike on a regular basis because guess what.  I'm still broke.  Actually, I'm brokER than I ever was as a student despite my college degree, various professional certifications and decades of work history, but I no longer feel ashamed or downtrodden to have to ride the bus.  Actually, I rather enjoy it.  Taking the bus is a kind of freedom that as an impressionable and naïve youth I was not sufficiently mature to realize.


The average, hard-working American does not see it, but we are slaves to our possessions. And the pricier the item, the more loathe we are to admit it can be more of a liability rather than a benefit.  I can think of few other experiences as tyrannical as owning a personal vehicle.  But unless you've unshackled yourself from the indentured servitude of a monthly car payment, insurance, taxes, government regulations, gasoline and cost of routine maintenance, you would probably feel acutely displaced without a car as I did during the summer of 2011 when a red light runner not only totaled my vehicle, but also resulted in extensive bruising caused by the deployed airbag that left me looking like I was dragged around by my arm.  No worries, tho, as I was annoyed more than anything else because this incident was not the first time I've been in a car wreck caused by someone else's negligence.  And I'm a survivor.  What hasn't killed me yet has made me strong enough to bench press a Buick. Sort of.

Long story short, where there’s a will, there’s always a way.  And if you’re not careful, you might even find yourself enjoying having ditched your car to ride the bus or your bike as I have been doing.  Once you realize that you are no longer enslaved by ongoing mechanical and regulatory expenditures, or even the oil companies, you might even be prone to bouts of absolute giddiness.  Frankly, I find myself giggling uncontrollably each time I roll past a gas station, particularly when gas hits over $5 bucks/gallon.



True, the bus still runs on the stuff, but regardless of whether the price for a gallon jumps arrow up thanks to Wall Street speculation or industry negligence such as the refinery fire in Richmond, California, you won’t feel it as acutely.  Your fingers will be snapping and your toes still tapping because bus fares remain relatively static over time. And if you qualify for a reduced fare, then the savings are even better.  And that, in a nutshell, is the beauty of taking public transportation.


©2013 Greensleeves.  Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.  Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Greensleeves and Heart Like A Wheel blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.