It is, after all, the 21st Century, and this is the great state of California. One expects that US mail can be delivered and that internet access lies within the realm of possibility.
Yet for a newcomer like myself in the hamlet of Point Reyes Station, which is literally falling off the edge of North America onto the Pacific Plate, establishing either a snail or electronic connection seems incomprehensibly complicated.
A few years ago, I decided to get a box at the local Post Office and was able to do so by producing my property-tax stub. I got a very sturdy key to a rather puny metal box numbered 1213, and I asked a few people to try sending me something there. Though one birthday card managed to slip through, other mail was returned to sender. The problem apparently was that I could not use “Route 1” as my street address. It had to be “Highway 1”. Also, I was then told, do not even think of putting the words “PO Box” on the address, especially for packages. Just append #1213 and stuff will be delivered.
Highway 1, #1213 found its way into my address, and I finally started to receive letters and packages. With the mail problem seemingly solved, I turned my attention to procuring WIFI. Readers will know that I’ve been off the information grid since the inception of Pi, fifteen years ago. No landline, no cable TV, no internet, no cellphone service. But now that I’ve been contemplating moving to Point Reyes permanently, and especially with COVID isolation, I thought it was about time to get internet and to enable WIFI calling.
In my first effort to get connected, I contacted our local (and, in fact, only) cable service provider, Horizon. I knew my house had been wired for cable when it was built, so I figured this would be an easy fix. So close! I walked into the Horizon office on Mesa Street, set up an appointment for the technician to inspect and install the following day. The good news: cable is indeed wired in the house; the bad news: there was no connection from the house to the service line in the street. This meant that I would have to hire someone to dig a trench and install the line; the estimate proved to be $1400. (I should mention that the sweet technician retrieved my cat from the crawl space under the guest studio, so the visit wasn't a complete bust.)
But the cable technician also confirmed that a phone line, also installed during construction, was indeed connected to the trunk line at the street. So Plan B: the phone line. I knew that some of my neighbors used ATT U-verse for their internet service and that it worked well.
However, upon inquiry, multiple ATT agents told me that service to my home was impossible. It took about a dozen phone calls over as many months, to discover the problem. While the Post Office insisted on Highway 1 as my address, ATT did not recognize Highway 1. It didn’t recognize Route 1 either. But with State Route 1, bingo, we had a hit. (Note that I hadn’t even considered a fourth possibility, CA1, or a fifth, Shoreline Highway, which is what is used on the street sign!)
I put in an order for a U-verse hookup, but was informed that no one could come out to the house to install because of COVID. Instead, they would send me the modem and I can just plug it in and of course it will work.
You can see where this is headed. I needed to get the modem delivered to the Post Office, and I made it clear to ATT that the modem must be delivered to Highway 1 (not State Route 1) and that is must contain the addition of #1213. Well, of course, that instruction was ignored, the package was labeled State Route 1, and it was never delivered. In fact, this happened three times over a period of two weeks, despite their assurances of "Yes, I will take care of this for you" and "Yes, yes, we have the correct shipping address."
Fortunately, the third package was sent by Fedex, and ATT emailed me a tracking number. I even managed to speak with a Fedex agent, but discovered that I had to be the sender rather than the receiver to change the address. So I lied. I talked to a supervisor and learned that at 6:30 pm the package would return to the Petaluma Fedex distribution center, which closed at 7 pm. It was a Friday evening. I dashed out there during the little window of time and retrieved it.
Not only did I have the modem in hand, but I also received a text from my neighbor that an ATT agent was spotted on my property initiating the service. (I guess COVID didn't stop him after all!) I returned to Pi, poured a glass of wine, opened the box, plugged in the modem, and held my breath. It worked.
Yet for a newcomer like myself in the hamlet of Point Reyes Station, which is literally falling off the edge of North America onto the Pacific Plate, establishing either a snail or electronic connection seems incomprehensibly complicated.
A few years ago, I decided to get a box at the local Post Office and was able to do so by producing my property-tax stub. I got a very sturdy key to a rather puny metal box numbered 1213, and I asked a few people to try sending me something there. Though one birthday card managed to slip through, other mail was returned to sender. The problem apparently was that I could not use “Route 1” as my street address. It had to be “Highway 1”. Also, I was then told, do not even think of putting the words “PO Box” on the address, especially for packages. Just append #1213 and stuff will be delivered.
Highway 1, #1213 found its way into my address, and I finally started to receive letters and packages. With the mail problem seemingly solved, I turned my attention to procuring WIFI. Readers will know that I’ve been off the information grid since the inception of Pi, fifteen years ago. No landline, no cable TV, no internet, no cellphone service. But now that I’ve been contemplating moving to Point Reyes permanently, and especially with COVID isolation, I thought it was about time to get internet and to enable WIFI calling.
In my first effort to get connected, I contacted our local (and, in fact, only) cable service provider, Horizon. I knew my house had been wired for cable when it was built, so I figured this would be an easy fix. So close! I walked into the Horizon office on Mesa Street, set up an appointment for the technician to inspect and install the following day. The good news: cable is indeed wired in the house; the bad news: there was no connection from the house to the service line in the street. This meant that I would have to hire someone to dig a trench and install the line; the estimate proved to be $1400. (I should mention that the sweet technician retrieved my cat from the crawl space under the guest studio, so the visit wasn't a complete bust.)
But the cable technician also confirmed that a phone line, also installed during construction, was indeed connected to the trunk line at the street. So Plan B: the phone line. I knew that some of my neighbors used ATT U-verse for their internet service and that it worked well.
However, upon inquiry, multiple ATT agents told me that service to my home was impossible. It took about a dozen phone calls over as many months, to discover the problem. While the Post Office insisted on Highway 1 as my address, ATT did not recognize Highway 1. It didn’t recognize Route 1 either. But with State Route 1, bingo, we had a hit. (Note that I hadn’t even considered a fourth possibility, CA1, or a fifth, Shoreline Highway, which is what is used on the street sign!)
I put in an order for a U-verse hookup, but was informed that no one could come out to the house to install because of COVID. Instead, they would send me the modem and I can just plug it in and of course it will work.
You can see where this is headed. I needed to get the modem delivered to the Post Office, and I made it clear to ATT that the modem must be delivered to Highway 1 (not State Route 1) and that is must contain the addition of #1213. Well, of course, that instruction was ignored, the package was labeled State Route 1, and it was never delivered. In fact, this happened three times over a period of two weeks, despite their assurances of "Yes, I will take care of this for you" and "Yes, yes, we have the correct shipping address."
Fortunately, the third package was sent by Fedex, and ATT emailed me a tracking number. I even managed to speak with a Fedex agent, but discovered that I had to be the sender rather than the receiver to change the address. So I lied. I talked to a supervisor and learned that at 6:30 pm the package would return to the Petaluma Fedex distribution center, which closed at 7 pm. It was a Friday evening. I dashed out there during the little window of time and retrieved it.
Not only did I have the modem in hand, but I also received a text from my neighbor that an ATT agent was spotted on my property initiating the service. (I guess COVID didn't stop him after all!) I returned to Pi, poured a glass of wine, opened the box, plugged in the modem, and held my breath. It worked.
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