BONOKOSKI: No internet, no Wi-Fi, no television, no life


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Oct 26, 2009
BONOKOSKI: No internet, no Wi-Fi, no television, no life
The internet (and television) should be legislated as an essential service

Author of the article:Mark Bonokoski
Publishing date:Jul 29, 2021 • 10 hours ago • 3 minute read • 19 Comments
(Getty Images file photo)
(Getty Images file photo)
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Last Saturday night, my Bell modem crashed, which entered me into the hell of no internet and no television.


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No worries — Bell Fibe said they were on it.

To pass time, I read the obits in last Saturday’s Globe and Mail and discovered former Toronto Crown Attorney Paul Culver had died.

He was a good one. One of his more famous trials was the one that stayed the charges against abortionist Henry Morgentaler, a man who I envisioned even looked like what a back-room abortionist should look like.

I then took last week’s Sunday New York Times onto the balcony but it was too hot and muggy in Ottawa to stay outside and, besides, the Times offered me nothing that piqued my curiosity.

Not even columnist Maureen Dowd raised my hackles. I mean, who wants to read another interview with the old commie, Bernie Sanders?

After that, I tried to pass time by again attempting to descale the coffee machine, but again to no avail. So I gave up trying to kill time while waiting for the new modem to arrive as promised.


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Instead, I had a nap.

It has now become obvious to me that Internet (and television) should be legislated as an essential service.

It has also become quite obvious to me that I must spend an inordinate amount of time on the computer, and also watching television. In fact, I hate to admit it but I am watching Game of Thrones all over again to smooth pandemic sleep bumps.

After 18 months of COVID-19 (and variants) lockdown, one almost needs to be re-programmed to re-integrate into an almost normal life, or the life now classified as Stage 3.

The Bell technician initially said the new modem would arrive in two to four business days, which had me hitting the roof.

“But I’m a newspaper columnist. I need the Internet like you need to take a piss,” I said.


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“I don’t read newspapers,” the tech replied.


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In the end, the tech promised me the modem the next day, which was a Sunday, and that it would be delivered between 8 a.m. and 5 p.m.

By noon Sunday, I was on the phone to Purolator.

“Sorry, but if you don’t have a tracking number, I can’t help you,” the customer care representative said.

So I hung up, angry as all get-out.

By now the Bell Fibe folk were almost on a first name basis with me, and well aware I used language that was not in the gospels. Alex, perhaps short for Alexandra, was the last tech I talked with and she, by far, was the most understanding of my dilemma and therefore my frustration.


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I don’t know what Bell pays her but, with her seemingly sincere apologies, she’d be great working in any store’s returns department.

She’d be Employee of the Month every month.

Now Bell went and did something stupid. After the first tech lied through his teeth that my modem would arrive on Sunday, they pumped out an email wanting to know the satisfaction level of my Bell “experience.”

I didn’t answer. I am saving it up until the modem is actually in my hands and then I’m going to plunder and pillage — and let loose with every vulgarity suitable for restricted entertainment.

Tuesday’s and Thursday’s columns, by the by, were filed from my daughter’s home which is an hour’s drive away.

But at least I got a coffee and a kiss goodbye.

Bell Fibe, for context, can kiss my a–.