Internet Access

Along with instant gratification, modern convenience, and endless networking, comes the utter frustration associated with the internet. With just a "click" the world is our oyster. However, with just a "click" that proverbial Pandora's Box can open and stream into our very homes. One soon learns that to subscribe to an offering, may soon lead to the inability to unsubscribe.

Case in point: My PC came equipped with an anti-virus program. It was a familiar one, so I accepted it readily. I went online, registered my personal information and "click" was instantaneously into that company's system. Several months and three viruses later, I decided that this popular program was, perhaps, not the one for me. After having to purchase and install a new hard drive, I decided to not reinstall that impotent anti-virus program.

And that was all good. It seemed to be said and done. However, like some lurking venomous snake, it suddenly slithered onto my screen, in the form of a pop-up window, and prompted me to reinstall. Not being a computer geek, I found this confusing and overwhelming. How, after being removed from the bowels of my PC, did it even recognize that I was there? I needed to cut myself immediately from its grasp.

I went to the company's site. I told myself that I would go in, find the "unsubscribe" button and then with a "click" be rid of this monster once and for all. But, much to my chagrin, there wasn't such a button. There was no seemingly obvious way to stop the onslaught. And then, after all too much pursuing of the site, I did find a snail-mail address. How strange, I thought, that something so easy to join was becoming so difficult to quit. I played along, wrote the "please remove me" letter, sent it off with a stamp, and then waited and waited for a response. I received none.

Several months passed, the pop-ups had diminished, and I eased back into the complacency of believing that the monster had died and would not return. Again, all was good until I received my end-of-the-year credit card statement. There on the page it lie in wait. The monster had reappeared in yet another form - - a sizable "renewal" debit on my statement.

Now, driven to the point of madness, I decided to launch an all out attack. The monster, not thinking clearly, had printed its phone number on my bill. Ah-ha! A point of contact - - let the communication begin! I punched in the numbers; it rang; I got the usual recording, "If you wish to speak to . . . Punch one . . . Punch two . . . Punch three . . . Punch four." Okay, finally, it's ringing - - I will soon speak to a human being, I will soon know that there is life out there on this planet. Another ring and then - - music - - "Please stay on the line, your call is very important to us, you are number one-hundred-five in the queue." What? ONE-HUNDRED-FIVE?! I decided it was a ploy to take me down. That's okay, I can wait it out. I will be the victor!

I punched the speaker phone button, listened and waited - - made my lunch - - ate my lunch - - did my laundry - - put my laundry away - - paid my other bills and then suddenly, from the other side, I could hear it ringing - - THE PHONE WAS RINGING! I composed myself, stood ready, waiting, needing to hear that soft, phonetic, tonal sound of a human voice - - one that would listen, one that would understand, one that would care! And then he spoke - - in broken English. "Hello, this is Skekhar, How might I help you today?" Oh, noooooooo!

The saga continues, but you can fill in the rest. The point being, access to the universe is all too effortless through the internet. One can become a member of a multitude of networks, at the click of a mouse. However, as I have witnessed, it is far too easy to join than it is to quit. Want to find out first-hand? Go ahead - - I dare you - - the monster lies in wait - - just "click."

Just keeping it real. . . .