The BlueAnt Q1 looks the part of an executive Bluetooth headset, and its voice control remains cool, but it doesn't match the class leaders in sound quality or endurance.
The appeal of making obscene hand gestures while paying roadrunner broadband bill to a despised company makes on-line billing irresistible AND convenient. But the downside to electronic billing is that Internet customers often don't receive the same promotional or "legalistic" literature that our "snail mail" counterparts do. Were it not for a friend's causal mention of it, telekom broadband might never dsl broadband learned of Verizon's internet providers to share their customers' personal information with other companies unless the customer "opts out." Since irish broadband want to hang on to the very last vestige of privacy any one person can have these days, high speed internet called Verizon, entered information on the key pad when prompted, then hit a wall when asked for my Verizon password.
Now I don't know about the rest of you, but I believe I have no fewer than 500 passwords in my life. Passwords that grant me access to pay bills and view bank accounts, enter dog shows, check on my kid's grades, look at news articles, get recipes, buy cool stuff, send e-cards, track UPS packages, create a newsletter, build a web site, buy postage on-line, and donate a milk cow to a family in Africa needing income. Back in the day, a four digit password number sufficed. When that wasn't enough, it became six digits. Then it became necessary to create a password that was a combination of numbers and letters. That evolved into some of the letters needing to be capitalized. It's only a matter of time before passwords need to be a blend of numbers, letters, symbols and a drop of blood pressed up against the monitor.
At this moment, I can rattle off from memory the social security numbers of my kids and spouse. I know my favorite credit card number and the 3-digit security number from the back. I know the birthdays and portable satellite internet numbers of lots of people. And I can tell you instantly what my address and phone number was from when I was seven years old (HY-29345. Yes, boys and girls, there WAS a time when phone numbers started with two letters). I know by heart my checking account number, its routing number, my vet's phone number and the passwords of sites I access frequently. For a long time, I even knew from memory the AKC number of a group winning dog I showed for several years.
So as astonishing as it may seem, I am a mere mortal and can remember only so much. Perhaps if I'd remembered WHILE I WAS DOING IT that I was driving too quickly through a construction zone the other day, I might have avoided a $150 speeding ticket. Still, when the nearest place to pull over was the parking lot of a dog park, I made lots of new 4-legged friends and their owners. The ticketing police officer was not amused as he had to fight to get a word in edge-wise. That's how it is when dog people get together:
Policeman: "License and Registration please."
Me (to the person walking by): "Say, is that a Spinone Italiano??"
Policeman: "I clocked you doing Mach 1 in a construction zone."
Me to Spinone owner: "Can you believe what entry fees cost now?"
Policeman: "Normally, this is a $400 ticket, but I'm being a nice guy and reduced your actual speed so that the ticket is only $150."
Me: "Didn't I see you at Westminster in 2004?"
Policeman: "If you pay the ticket within 20 days, you'll be tm net hotspot two points instead of thirty."
Me: Yeah, I heard that an animal rights groups was threatening to show up at that dog show last weekend and cause mayhem. Where's a cop when you need one?"
But I digress.
I have a spiral notebook on my desk in which I've recorded every password I need to live my life in the 21st century. Sometimes I have five and six passwords for the same company, each one crossed off when it became obsolete. But none of my passwords for Verizon was working. None. I called other Verizon phone numbers and got no further than the prompting for passwords that never worked. This was now becoming a quest.
I worked my way up the chain of command until I believe I reached the personal secretary of the CEO. I explained my tortured story to her and guess what? She was able to opt out for me. I don't *think* she did it as an alternative to slitting her wrists and ending the call quickly. But it's also possible she was a fellow dog person and was overcome with the euphoria of helping out a partner in vice.
So while my little story has turned into a Verizon version of "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie," the point is that these days, it's probable that your information will be shared with anyone within a company's "good ol' boy or girl" network and you might never be informed of it if you are billed on-line. It this concerns you (and it should), by all means contact the customer service department of any business which bills you electronically or otherwise and ask: Are you sharing my information with anyone, and if so, I want to opt out.
A really good story about an expensive speeding ticket can't hurt, either.
S.E. Szeremy writes professionally and is the creator of http://KnobNots.com and http://www.BabyKnobNots.com
She has been an owner/breeder/handler of Pulik since 1978.
