This past summer I got a new phone—an LG Rumor Touch—with Sprint, the wireless company I’ve been with since 2001. It’s certainly no iPhone, but for making phone calls and sending text messages, it’s a good phone. The only problem was that I couldn’t send or receive pictures via text messaging (a.k.a. “picture mail”). The phone would just show “ERROR 7 Network timeout”. I took my phone into my local Sprint store and the techs there fooled around with it and reset it, wiping all my data, but they couldn’t fix it. They gave me an “eTicket” number and told me to call Sprint tech support.

I got busy with other things, started a new semester, and generally felt like I had better things to do than spend a couple hours on the phone wrangling with a customer service rep over a minor detail like picture mail, so I let it go. After getting Dorothy’s iPhone set up to text pictures the other day, I decided that it’s time to get my own phone fixed, so tonight I called *2 and prepared for customer service hell.

The first rep I talked to got hung up on the fact that I was calling on the phone that needed to be fixed—presumably because she then wouldn’t be able to make me jump through the standard basic troubleshooting hoops. What could she do for me tonight, I asked.

Not much, sir.

Well, “not much” is more than nothing, but in the end, despite my assurances that I had already been to the Sprint store and that they had failed to fix my phone, all she could do was refer me back to the store since I lacked another phone to call back on.

Not ready to give up, I decided to give chat support a try. At least that way I wouldn’t be on the phone while communicating with the rep. Meanwhile, I remembered that I had that eTicket number from my visit to the Sprint store, which would have notes attached to it about what the techs tried to do that day, so I typed it into the chat window. The rep, ”Ben”,  had me turn my phone off and on, which triggered the network timeout error. I received lots of messages from the rep thanking for my patience and assuring me that he was looking into something or another, but in the end, after 30 minutes, I was told that I had to call tech support.

Well, at least now I had my old eTicket number. Perhaps now the phone rep would be able to see that the store had checked the hardware and would examine my account more closely for configuration problems. Unfortunately, this new phone rep was fixated on the fact that I had called earlier today and had been referred back to the store. I insisted that she look up the eTicket from August.

Are you aware that it is December?

Really? And here I thought we were having an unseasonably cold September.

She seemed to think that the eTicket from my call earlier tonight took precedence over anything that came before and that there was nothing to be gained by looking at the older eTicket. I pressed further. I explained that the staff at the store hadn’t seemed to understand the problem. The hardware checked out, and they had given me the impression that there was probably something wrong with my account.

Can you make phone calls? Can you send text messages?

Yes.

Then your account is fine.

Well, I can’t do anything with data, I countered.

Oh, hold on… … … I think I see the problem.

Finally! She explained that she was making some corrections to the settings on my account, told me to use the option to update my phone’s profile and then try sending a picture mail after hanging up, and promised to call back in a few minutes.

You may receive a survey about your experience today. Would you say that your problem was completely resolved?

Not yet. (I mean, seriously?)

I hung up, updated my profile, and was able to successfully send a picture to myself. And yes, the rep did call back—and proceeded to try to up-sell me to a more expensive service plan.

So how long did all that take? Approximately 2 hours.

What did we learn? Persistence pays off; don’t take no for an answer.

I’ll let you be the judge.

For the coming Fall semester I had signed up to take “Web Application Development I”, whose catalog description begins: “Learn to develop web applications to support online learning and collaboration using Perl, PHP, or Java (student’s choice)” (emphasis added). I’ve long been interested in learning PHP, so this seemed like a great opportunity to fulfill that goal and to get credit towards my degree doing it. However, on Friday the instructor sent out an email to the entire class:

Due to an unexpected administration issue, I realized some of you might not read the proper course description. [...]

In the fall 2008 course you will learn to use Asp.Net 2.0 with VB.Net or C# and MS SQL database server.

Well that’s just dandy. No choice but ASP.NET. That torpedoes half of my Fall schedule, but for future planning I replied to the instructor asking when the PHP version of the course will be offered. He replied:

I guess the course will cover php when it is fully shaped as object-oriented. Probably in a couple years.

The next language the course will use would be Java.

Wait… what?

(A) Since they don’t have any firm plans to teach PHP in the near future, why is it listed in the course description at all? False advertising I say!

(B) More importantly, how can you get away with teaching web application development without addressing PHP—one of the most widely used languages for web application development? I don’t care whether or not it’s fully object-oriented. If it’s good enough for Wikipedia, WordPress, Facebook, et al., then it deserves our attention.

But wait a minute… “Patterson does not know if the device has damaged his hearing, said his attorney…”

So… if he hasn’t actually experienced hearing loss, how does he have legal standing in this matter?

Oh… because the iPod could be turned up by the user to a potentially dangerous volume it’s somehow “defective”, and therefore he is entitled to a iPod that maxes out at an undisputedly safe volume. Riiiiiight…

Four words: Boot to the Head.

I’ve been using pearLyrics for months now. I love it, and I will continue to use it. When will the recording industry learn that this sort of crap only makes people like me seriously pissed off at them and less likely to buy their wares.

On a related note, I later had a little revelation that may make sense of my continued dislike of beer. I’m starting to think that I might be a supertaster, because that would make complete sense out of my finicky eating habits. I don’t like coffee, beer, and grapefruit. What are three things that are too bitter for supertasters? Coffee, beer, and grapefruit. How many times have I listened to “John Lee Supertaster” by They Might Be Giants, and this is just now clicking in my head? (22 according to iTunes.) Now, I’ve read that supertasters also aren’t so fond of green vegetables, which I’m mostly okay with, so I’m not 100% positive about my informal diagnosis yet. I guess I’ll have to track down some 6-n-propylthiouracil and get the final word.

On Sunday, July 3rd, I of course went to church, and afterward I ran into James and Jess, who were also interested in heading over to Fair St. Louis to see the Switchfoot concert under the Arch and the river-front fireworks. I ran home to get changed into some shorts and sneakers and to get some lunch, then they picked me up and we headed downtown. Although the afternoon was hot and there wasn’t much to do while waiting for the scheduled events, it was worth getting there early to see the air-show and get a good spot on the Arch-grounds. Some other people from church showed up before the concert and through cellphones we managed to get them over to the choice spot we had staked out. Switchfoot rocked the crowd, although I can’t say they were better than They Might Be Giants or Five Iron Frenzy. Immediately following the concert was the fireworks show, which led off with a stunt plane shooting off fireworks over the river before the traditional fireworks shot off from a river barge.

After all the festivities were done and the crowd began to clear, I noted a sort of Tragedy of the Commons—trash everywhere. I dutifully carried my trash to one of the multitude of trash cans along the main paths, but most people seemed content to simply drop empty cups and wrappers on the ground for Fair volunteers to pick up sometime before the next day’s events. As if I needed another sign that humanity is depraved.

Anyway, I went to the Fair expecting a good time—which was indeed had—but I never expected to walk away a millionaire. As James, Jess, & I walked through the streets towards the car, a group of youths standing on the side of the sidewalk made eye contact with us and extended towards us pieces of paper in their hands. Lo and behold they were giving out million dollar bills! Or not. No, they were merely religious tracts “cleverly” disguised as counterfeit million dollar bills.

The million dollar question: Will you go to Heaven? A quick test. Have you ever told a lie, stolen anything, or used God’s name in vain? Jesus, said, “Whoever looks upon a woman to lust after her has committed adultery already with her in his heart.” Have you looked with lust? Will you be guilty on Judgement Day? If you have done those things God sees you as a lying, thieving, blasphemous, adulterer at heart. The Bible warns that you will end up in Hell. That’s not God’s will. He sent His Son to suffer and die on the cross for you. Jesus took your punishment upon Himself-”For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” Then he rose from the dead and defeated death. Please repent (turn from sin) today and trust in Jesus, and God will grant you everlasting life. The read your Bible daily and obey it.

As I continued to walk, examining this evangelistic gimmick and having not even exchanged a single word with the young man who handed it to me, it struck me. What bothers me about this is that it is Christian spam. Someone convinces these kids to stand out on a street corner after a large event and hand out as many of these things as possible with the hopes that just a few will read the message crammed into the back border area of this fake bill and say, “Gee, I never realized this before. I’ll give my life to Jesus right now and read my Bible every day.” Does it work? Well, enough people respond to emails about porn, prescription meds, and widows in Nigeria to keep email spam going, so I’m guessing they get a few takers. Quick, clean, simple. No need to know the person or invest in a relationship. Just trick people into reading a “Gospel presentation”, get them converted, and the job is done.

I find this approach to be highly inadequate. There’s no follow up. There’s no discipleship. The tract doesn’t mention anything about going to a church and becoming part of a fellowship of Christians, who can challenge and love one another. Instead, the tract advocates an individualistic religion—a religion of just “me and Jesus”—that does not capture the fulness of the Gospel.

And then a few blocks later we passed a tent city. I vaguely recalled from a news report that I caught bits and pieces of as I was getting ready to go out one day that a bunch of homeless people were camping out somewhere downtown in protest of something. Well, there it was, just a few blocks away from my brothers and sisters with the tracts. I had to wonder. Did they give out any tracts to the camped out homeless people? Wouldn’t giving “million dollar bill” tracts to homeless people be kind of cruel in a way?

Unfortunately, I don’t have the perfect answer. I’m still learning what it means to evangelize, to love, and to have mercy. I can’t give anyone a 10 step evangelism program. And if anyone claims to have a 10 step evangelism program, I think it’d be best to run the other way. I don’t think evangelism is so simple and well-defined. Although the Great Commission is only one sentence long, it’s complex, involved, and time-consuming in its application.

Perhaps searching for concrete, well-defined answers is what makes these tracts look like a good idea. You can quantify it and think that you did some real good. “I handed out 200 tracts today. I touched 200 lives with the Gospel.” It sounds impressive and pious, but it doesn’t really capture the fullness of the Great Commission.

Anyway, theological musing aside, they say the first million is the hardest, so I guess it won’t be long before James, Jess, and I are being chauffeured in our limos to the airport where our private jets can fly us off to our mansions in the Hamptons. (Although, if I ever actually somehow become a millionaire and I buy a limo, a private jet, and a mansion in the Hamptons, someone out there better beat the ever-loving snot out of me.)

On Monday, July 4th, I slept in, having been quite tired from the fullness of the previous day. My only plans that day were to go to a Library staff party at the home of our serials coordinator, Joanna. I and the rest of the staff gathered for a fine cookout—though the cooking was the only thing going on outside. Being St. Louis, it was a little too warm outside, and we all stayed inside to chat. And there was much chatting—so much so that we lost track of time and completely missed the Kirkwood fireworks that we had intended to go see. Oh well.

Finally, for those of you who aren’t regular h☆r viewers: Relevancy Link

Why does it feel so bad to ignore the phone? Can we not bear the thought of disappointing the caller? Should the caller be disappointed to not have his or her call answered? Is being able to contact someone anytime a rightful expectation? Is that an expectation we ought to fulfill?

I say no. The phone is a convenience, a tool. People managed to communicate before the phone using much slower forms of communication. It’s nice if you happen to call when the recipient is available, but if they are otherwise engaged, then you’ll just have to wait. That’s what voicemail is for. Let’s mind our priorities and not let the phone be our master.

In the August 1, 2004 issue of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, I came across a full-page ad for a large motivational seminar that was held on September 14 at the Savvis Center. The top banner proclaimed:

Get Motivated
Attend This Dynamic Seminar to INCREASE Your PRODUCTIVITY and INCOME
Motivation! Inspiration! Career Skills! Wealth-Building!

Okay. Pretty standard stuff, I suppose, but bear with me. Under the banner there were five large columns displaying prominent pictures of five of the key speakers and their topics. What struck me as odd was the center column. Listed as speaking on the topic of “perseverance” was Jessica Lynch, the rescued American prisoner of war. Her session was titled “Survival is a Choice”, and was described, saying:

Private Jessica Lynch astonished the world when she survived the unthinkable and was rescued from Iraqi capture. You will be amazed as she shares the key strategies that she used to survive and thrive in the most brutal of circumstances.

Okay, now hold on a minute.

First, let me say that I in no way want to minimize what Ms. Lynch experienced. Being captured in battle by an enemy force must be an extremely frightening, horrific, traumatic, and harrowing experience that I cannot even begin to imagine.

That being said, it seems that this ad has perhaps overstated Ms. Lynch’s expertise resulting from her experience. Let’s do a little history review. If I recall the news reports correctly, the convoy that Ms. Lynch was riding in was ambushed after driving off course. Several members of her unit were killed during the attack and several were captured. Several days later, an Iraqi hospital worker reported to American forces that Ms. Lynch was being held at the hospital where he worked. A unit of marines was promptly dispatched to the hospital, who then “rescued” her while facing little to no resistance.

“Survival is a Choice”?

If what I recall is indeed correct, then Jessica Lynch had very little choice in the matter of her survival. In fact, it seems that she played a largely passive role in the whole affair. If she had been captured after fighting on the front lines of a brutal war and had been held in a P.O.W. camp for several months while being subjected to torture and interrogation, then she might have something truly meaningful to say about survival strategies. However, given her actual experience, I can’t imagine how she has the qualifications to teach what this ad claims that one would learn by attending her session at the seminar.

What were they thinking?

1. It totally screws up the listening experience if you have the player set to shuffle.
2. It even screws up the listening experience if you are merely listening to multiple CD’s in a row.
3. When I rip the CD, I have to take the extra time to slice the track into its parts and cut out the silence.

While I’m all in favor of bands putting secret extras on their albums, for the love of Pete, simply make it an extra track! Stop this extended final track nonsense! ::GRRRRR::