The East Of Everything cast demonstrates ABC cred

Mike's Pith & Wind - Cred
I finally got in touch with the Telstra technical help line yesterday. The last three or so weeks have been frustrating for one so dependent on the Net – I’ve been watching helplessly as my connection gets more and more tenuous and the alleged speed gradually diminishes and finally just grinds to a halt altogether. James, the PC Doctor, made a welcome call on Monday, but despite rendering inert some suspicious looking files I’d accumulated (from song lyrics sites – be aware!) and making some modifications to the router that temporarily resuscitated my PC from total inertia, within minutes of his leaving my Net interface was as bad as it ever was. In the end, more in desperation than certainty, I concluded that it had to be my provider and made the fateful call.
It’s been a while since I’ve had to trouble our friends at Enormous Puddle. Since I last rang they’ve instituted a voice-activated service that takes you through the common ailments and their remedies before reluctantly shunting you onto a live ‘technician’. I must say that the acual voice activation technology has improved considerably, and the problem-solving programme was pretty well thought out for that matter, but by the time the so-called technician came on line and mumbled his name in some variation of a sub-continental accent, the battery in the studio phone had nearly run out and I spent the next twenty minutes running to and from the bedroom phone and the studio to check the computer and report my findings.
In the end the technician admitted that it had read more

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Dick's Toolbox - Intimations
I was having a reasonably bad working lunch with a friend in Sydney where we had both found ourselves accidentally working for the day. It was one of those dodgy $20.00 for a ‘gormet’ (sic) barbecue meal with salad places that you end up in when you actually want something a bit more civilised. The local restaurant scene senses your need, sums instantly that you are from out of town, and goes into camouflage mode. The streets are immediately bereft of culinary interest, but have suddenly sprouted fried chicken, hamburger and sushi take-away shop fronts for the express eating office worker, who will take it back to the office to eat al desko . Given that the diesel bus fumes pollute Sydney’s narrow streets, they are not place that you want to linger in (let’s hear it for Melbourne trams, whose power source pollutes the LaTrobe valley instead). read more