and we're back

This is the moment I'm sure you have all been waiting for.

The cross-country move is officially complete. The VFR's have found a new home. Boxes have been moved and unpacked. And now that there's at least a hint of spare time, we're pleased to annouce the return of Squawking VFR.

Countless hours of blogging lay ahead.

We would have been blogging sooner, but some technical difficulties brought upon us by the incompetent foofs at Comcast.

After they allegedly returned our service, it took them three days and $264 to actually get us back online. That, and more than 15 phone calls and three hours worth of waiting on hold from yours truly. It is only because I am kind and benevolent that I restrain myself from wishing cancer of the eyes upon their CEO.

Here's the breakdown of my latest encounter with the evil phone/cable/internet cabal.

• Service cannot simply be transferred from our previous address to our new address. We must pay a fee of $100 to disconnect, then $125 to re-connect here.

The disconnecting Comcast people told us to keep our former modem, only to threaten to destroy our credit because of our failure to return it - this while we were talking with the mortgage lender about qualifying for our home making our credit a most-important issue.

• The clowns come to our house to install the new service. It is simple, they say. Once they are done monkeying around outside, they give us a disc to run on the computer, which they say will complete the installation.

• Naturally, said disc does not work.

• I am told from the installation people not to worry, that the billing department can automatically activate the account from their end. It only takes a phone call.
  

• I call billing. After waiting an eternity to talk to a real person, the real person cannot find our account, thus making it difficult to activate our service. Much nonsense, and a lot of holding, ensues. It is decided that I am not a Comcast customer. I am a Comcast Classic customer. I am transferred. More holding ensues.
  

• (Note: I called the damned 1-888-Comcast number, and I never was made aware of, nor was given an opportunity to note the regular/Classic distinction upon placing my order).

• New person cannot locate my account. It is again decided that I cannot possibly be a Comcast Classic customer. I am put on hold again. The gentlemen comes back to the phone only to announce he is transferring me again.

• Somewhere in this transfer, I am hung up upon.

• I call back. Repeat steps 1 to 8.
  

• After much holding, all Mrs. VFR can hear from the other room is me talking to the person unfortunate enough to be stuck with me. "Can I help you?" "Yes, you can transfer me to your supervisor." "What seems to be the nature of your problem sir?" "Nothing you can help me with. Please switch me to your supervisor." "Can I -" "No. Supervisor! Supervisor! SUPERVISOR! SUPERVISOR!"

After yet another failure, I had been on the phone for an hour and a half. It was time to go to sleep, and try again the next night.

Long story short, I succeeded in finding a competent supervisor at Comcast. It took another hour's worth of calls, but the clowns eventually found our account, transferred me to yet another department, where people actually could activate our service.

Needless to say, a formal letter of complaint will be filed with the Federal Communications Commission about the dangers of monopolies run amok.

But that's not for tonight. Right now, we are happy to be back online. We now return you to your regularly scheduled musings.