HINDER DESKS

The ole ranch hand was borned and raised under rather modest circumstances in Wright City.

Only one black and white TV in the house with only one channel available (when the weather was clear). No telephone. No microwave. No skills with artificial intelligence whatsoever. You get the idea?

Accordingly, the fat boy did not touch a computer until into his third decade of life.

Since that ill fated day, your still neophyte "nerd" has progressed to ownership of multiple personal machines.

Another words, the country bumpkin can (on occasion) navigate the cyberspacial world and function (sorta?) on-line.

The "fly" in this "soup" is that for every action, there is an equal and opposite malfunction generated by yours truly. This malady, unfortunately, requires the all too frequent call to a so-called "Help Desk" in some foreign land.

Called a toll free number this day and 'splained my problem to a "real person". Was only told, "hold for a moment", before a "Punch 1 for this and 2 for that" serenade started.

Punched "2" and got a recorded message to, "Call another number"????

Called the "other number" and got a "real person", but have yet to figger out their native language. Lead pipe cinch it weren't English (and heard all manner of world-wide dialects from "help" in the background chatter?????)

Went into detail 'bout the problem at issue, answered a bucket-load of questions, and was told, "I am going to make you very happy, but.....our computer system is down for maintenance and you will have to call back another time".

So here is the question....should I unplug the computer, pack it like when purchased, and take it by to the store to tell them I am too stupid to have a computer...or should the good ole U.S. of A. staff their own damn help desks????

WAKE UP AMERICA!!!!