July 17, 2005 at 8:14 AM

Ah, late night computer typing.

It's been so long since I had a good practice session that every time I teach a lesson and hear music coming from another, I'm jealous and I get the urge to push them aside and play for myself. Forget the lesson.

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I had a couple of technical difficulties in getting my computer set up, so I called the technical support line offered by my server, and found myself on hold for a total of 1 1/2 hours this morning. Good thing I had nothing else to do but play solitaire on the computer and listen to their loop of music, interrupted periodically... "Your call is important to us. Please stay on the line, and we will assist you as soon as possible..." I won two games. Slowly, the music began to have its effect on my mental state. Usually, when I'm in a hurry, it invokes rage and edgy-ness; I can smell the rubber burning as I peel my tires in anticipation, mentally composing my future letter of complaint to whatever soul-less mechanical system it is that accepts letters of customer unsatisfaction.

This time, however, I was not rushed for time; the morning was perfect for wasting, and I clicked the cards in place, looking for patterns that would carry me to solitaire victory, periodically clearing the table to begin over, like the hold-music loop, again and again.

This hold music--I wonder each time who it could have been that would particularly enjoy creating such bland drivel. Was it a musician who sold out, commercialized, and now spins out endless opuses of garbage to satisfy the corporate cubical agenda? Has there ever been anyone who was touched by the music that stalls for more time on the other end of the phone cord?

I was slowly lulled into a hypnotic state there on my computer, and found my soul falling deeper into a quiet, numbed trance, not unlike that which would be experienced if stranded on a desert island, isolated extendedly from human contact. Finally, a voice broke through: "Hello, this is Sean, how can I help you?"

What--who--what am I doing? Must speak, quickly, or else forever extinguish this spark of life transmitting through the void... "Ah, finally, you are here, and I'm old and grey, and whatever it was I can't even remember what I was even trying to contact you about, I don't even know if it's relevant anymore. But how are you this fine day?"

From Pauline Lerner
Posted on July 17, 2005 at 11:52 AM

Ihave had some terrible experiences on the phone and in person with Dell. Don't buy from Dell! Canned music is pretty bad, too. When I call my doctor's office and get put on hold, I hear an electronic version of one of the Minuettes from Anna Magdalena Book. Computers are great when they work.

From Laurie Niles
Posted on July 17, 2005 at 3:27 PM

This week I was on the phone endlessly to switch phone companies so we can get faster Internet. It felt like a half-day on the phone, then they simply did not make the switch, and I had to do it over again! So frustrating! About the hold music...I'm sorry to say that I think I have made some. But the gig bought me a piano! (Not a fancy one, but something nice enough for the kids to learn on!)

From Karin Lin
Posted on July 18, 2005 at 12:36 AM

My violin teacher loves to share the story of how she was on hold one day and knew the Vivaldi hold music wasn't played by a human, because the tempo was perfectly strict and the vibrato was the same on every note.

From Emily Grossman
Posted on July 18, 2005 at 7:12 AM

Ha, Pauline, in fact I just bought a Dell. Can't wait to sample their personal hold repertoire.

Laurie, you weren't featured in the playlist yesterday. They had some cheesy synthesizer spouting out peppy fresh stuff that reminded me of household cleaning agents and whitening toothpaste.

From Pauline Lerner
Posted on July 18, 2005 at 6:19 PM

I'm sure Laurie's hold music is worth hearing.

From Jim W. Miller
Posted on July 20, 2005 at 4:35 AM

Anybody here sold your soul for a measly piano raise your hand.

From Emily Grossman
Posted on July 21, 2005 at 1:01 AM

Mine's for sale, but only for the price of a good violin.

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