May I Speak to Your Supervisor?

Yesterday morning, I made a quick check of Social Media to make sure that the world did ok without me for a few hours. I only had a few minutes, because I had a very full Saturday. Just as I was getting ready to log off, some one messaged me and said, “Did you know your blog is gone?”

Whaaaaa?  My blog was gone?  I checked, and they were right – it was gone! In its place I had a dopey message saying that Middle-aged Mormon Man had expired. (Which is strange because I wasn’t even feeling sick. ba-da-bum.)

• At this point, I would like to express my sincere thanks to those of you who reached out to me yesterday to make sure that I was OK, and to check to see if I had really hung it up or not.

I started digging into the problem, went to my IP and contacted tech support via a chat window. I had to wait a half an hour, but that would be shorter than the 45 minute hold time on the phone.

The tech support rep, Gretchen, finally came online, and off we went. We checked this, and that, pointed dns numbers, cleared caches, flushed dns, propagated, etc.

Nothing.

Finally, after about an half-an-hour, the Gretchen stated that she knew what the problem was, and that she had forwarded it to another guy, who had it in his hands and was working on it. She reassured me that “George” would get it fixed shortly.

I waited. Hit reload, nothing.  Waited some more. Hit reload, nothing. I am an hour into this already. “Shortly” apparently meant something different to them than to me.

So I contacted my tech support rep again. Suggested that maybe someone check on George to see if he was awake, or playing Candy Crush Saga on Facebook. She said he’s working on it, and that would issue a job ticket “shortly.” I suggested that I could carve a job ticket out of wood in less time than George was taking.  She was not amused.

Another hour passed. My EC was about the house being productive, while I sat staring at my laptop, hitting reload – like a chimp waiting for it to trigger a banana to drop onto his keyboard.

Nothing. A mere 2.5 hours into my relationship with Gretchen, and neither of us were happy. It occurred to me that it was time to drop the bomb:

“I would like to escalate my chat to a supervisor.” 

Gretchen asked me to wait, and said a supervisor would be with me shortly.  I could not tell how she felt about it, but I don’t think she was happy.

A couple of minutes later, a supervisor came on. We discussed the problem, and within about 5 minutes it was fixed. Easy-peasy.  I thanked him, reminded him to check George for a pulse, and he was gone.

Gretchen came back on the line and asked if there was anything else she could help me with.  I ignored the obvious retort and simply asked, “If the supervisor could fix this issue so quickly, why wasn’t it fixed 3 hours ago?”

Gretchen replied, “The supervisor has authority to do things that I can’t do.”

I stretched my fingers, decided not to engage, and signed off.  My morning was gone.

As most of you might know by now, I like to look at my experiences and try to find how they apply to life, and if there are scriptural, and gospel parallels.  It didn’t take me long to think of one. It is a familiar story about the Savior, found in Matthew 17:14-21. (A longer, more detailed version is found in Mark 9: 14-29)

Gustave Doré (1832-1883) “Jesus Healing the Lunatic”

Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

 Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.

For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

Matthew 11:28-30