We're living in the future

I've posted this from a phone! And I've forgotten how to write more than 140 characters.

How Rubbish Can BT Be?

Well, we upgraded to BT Infinity! I was actually quite pleased. We are getting speeds up in the high 30 MB, at all times of day. The only issue is a rare, but annoying tendency, for the line to drop out, and the router to need resetting.

Then the letter arrived, promising "an even better BT Infinity modem for free".

A moment's research found that this was actually to fix an overheating problem that was causing the line to drop out. Well, annoying that they didn't come clean, but at least they were fixing it.

Even better, the letter promised "We'll do the work whenever it suits you - daytime, evening or weekend. Our engineer will only need about 30 minutes to set it up."

Next niggle - no answer on the telephone booking line. Still, there was a website where we could book an appointment.

It turns out that "whenever it suits you - daytime, evening or weekend" means weekdays, between 8am or 5pm. And that's it. And the engineer needing only 30 minutes is irrelevant, since you need to say in from 8am to 1pm, or 1pm to 5pm to wait for them.

As far as I'm concerned that steps over the line from "misleading" to "outright, blatant lie." It shows a dreadful lack of respect for customers.

I'd have been happier with a simple admission of the design flaw, and a very apologetic request to book a weekday time, within specified hours, perhaps with a minor, low cost customer rebate - either cash, or even reduced calls or a minor perk for a limited period. They didn't need to offer more than they are doing, just be honest about it.

The irony is that until this I was pleased with the actual technical performance of the service, and had recommended it to others. No more. I will be contacting people I'd praised BT Infinity to, and filling them in on the extra details.

And on Monday I will be looking for alternatives to BT, both for my home internet and the work business account.

 

Saturday, February 25, 2012

Yoo hoo! I'm still here

• We're still down South. A very odd concept. Small girl who lives with us is picking up a southern accent - at least it's not a Brummie one, I guess.
• On the minus side we are close to Peppa Pig World, and small girl is a devoted follower of the cult of Peppa Pig. We have, on occasion, been at the Mecca for her religion from opening time to kick out. I spent most of the night with the jingle running through my head.
• I work for a start up company - this is exciting/frustrating/precarious. Delete as appropriate.
  
• Wifey works in London Village, and catches the train and the the tube every morning. She has learnt the true meaning of "there is a good service on London Underground." And developed a liking for a very rude song.
• And in November we went to the US for a holiday. Yay us.
• We now live near lots of farms. They are small girl's favourite places in the whole world. We have discovered that sheep, too, let their offspring walk all over them.

Friday, August 26, 2011

So It's Been a While..

I'm reading my previous posts, and wondering whether they refer to the same person.

We've moved house to points South, and are living in a rented shoe box while our wonderful Birmingham house sits completely empty as it plods through the sale process. Our estate agent and solicitors appear to be competing in an "I can be more useless than you" contest; unfortunately our buyers, should they cling on through this withering display of ineptitude, will forever regard us as the numpties. Sigh.

So now we live somewhere else, work somewhere else, and I have searched in vain for somewhere nearby to paddle that doesn't have waves that would do Japanese scroll paintings a run for their money.

SO what does life hold for me now? Goodness knows. Luckily wifey and toddler are keeping me sane, and the little one has now entered a particularly interesting phase. It's like entering a bizarre alternative world where fantastic things always have a possibility of happening. The stream of consciousness chat is relentlessly entertaining, although I hope the sniggers we greet some of the utterances with don't give her a complex. The other day she came in clutching some horse chestnuts, demanding I teach her "bonkers."

In that particular field I think we're learning from her.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Over Here, Over Here, Yoo Hoo!

Much to my surprise, I'm still on the planet. We got through our recent trials and tribulations, even managing to get through Christmas and New Year mostly unscathed, despite snow, illness and, scariest of all, a visit to my father - with whom I have a relationship best described as "fraught."

Even more to my surprise I'm doing work for which I'm being paid. Having the two things together is a bit of a novelty. Admittedly it isn't exactly local, and life has required some juggling. Not to mention a rethink on the car front; the 0-60 time and top speed of the current model may be nice, but suddenly mpg has become the over-riding concern. I feel so grown up. With wifey moving to a mega job in London village in Spring a move is in the offing, and we've had to consort with estate agents. It's been a bit of a shock realising that there's now a 3rd person, well 1/2 person, to consider. Childcare arranging is also underway. All told 2011 looks to be a busy year.

The munchkin is now babbling away happily, even if we understand only a fraction of what she says. She's looked in puzzlement as we show assorted strangers around the house, tailing after us and getting a little concerned if they go in her playroom (formerly known as the dining room) or the nursery (formerly known as daddy's playstation room - now that was a long time ago.) The phrases are even intruding on our personal life. "Shall we go down to our spacious kitchen, and eat in the light and airy breakfast area?"

Luckily Christmas time did afford some escape, and vegging time in front of Cbeebies was achieved, allowing daddy the luxury of being taught cooking skills by the delightful Katy Ashworth on "I Can Cook." She can cook, sing, play the guitar and, apparently, is accomplished at face paining. Is there no end to this lady's talents. I wonder whether she's ever considered being a nanny? Is it wrong for a grown man to want a nanny? Oh, wait, for our toddler? That might work too.

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Gosh, it's been quiet here

Well, it's been all go chez engineer.

Beloved wifey has had yet more run ins with the medical profession, and at one stage I was looking after both her and the munchkin. Actually not too demanding when she was properly poorly; I could tell when she was getting better when the requests became more urgent and louder.

On the income front I've been down to the last 3 candidates for five company roles since my last blog posting; all a "no" so far, save one which I'm overdue to hear about - but which is looking increasingly remote. The reasons cited are all so reasonable, and patently not my fault, that I'm beginning to wonder whether it's really something that no-one feels they can tell me. Body odour? Bad breath? A vague miasma of evil that raises hairs on the back of the neck?

My own business has been a similar story - the latest is that a prospective business partner fell ill the week before the deal, saw visions of his own mortality, and sold all his rights. Sigh. A negotiation I was having about selling services to a supplier to our local RDA suddenly became very one sided. I wonder why?

At least the small shouty one has been keeping spirits high, with her sudden interest in Waybuloo and yogo, a toddler friendly version of yoga that's a central theme of the programme. Although due to a slight misinterpretation her understanding of "yogo" is "lie on your back and waggle your toes in the air." Something to try in busy supermarkets. It has raised some ideas about alternative ways of bringing in an income now that engineering in the West Midlands seems to have nose dived into oblivion. All I need is a cracking idea for a children's TV programme, tied into a "soft" exercise routine. Hmmm. Perhaps I could add in some variant of boxercise into a rip-off of the Clangers? "Tooo, wooo, dooo, 'arry." Or judo into Bagpuss? Or spinning into Noggin the Nog? Is my favourite era in children's television becoming all too clear?

Still, perhaps there's legs still in those old ideas. Hmmm. I wonder whether Teletubbies are poised for a comeback, only this time with an obsessional liking for "karrytea" - a vaguely Eastern style gentle means of whacking seven shades of crap out of each other?

Thursday, August 05, 2010

Seduced, then Betrayed by the Dark Side

Long time readers of this blog (so that will be my wife then) will know that I'm finding it difficult to be an engineer at the moment. I lost my job a year ago, and getting work through my own business is tricky in the current climate. So when one of the engineering job boards advertised posts at the Financial Service Authority (FSA) saying "You may not have considered a career at the FSA. We are actively recruiting numerate candidates from outside the financial services, and have a thorough in-house training programme" I was very tempted. The stated salary was certainly attractive. After some soul searching I gave in and applied.

The online process was lengthy, and involved essays of a broadness of scope I'd not seen since the Cambridge entrance exam general paper nearly thirty years ago. Come to think of it, maybe that was the model. Still, it seemed to do the trick since I was then told to expect a telephone interview. That was a pleasant chat with a very nice lady. I asked the obvious question. "Aren't you going to be shut down?" There was a sigh. I clearly wasn't the first to ask. "We have already been in discussions with the Bank of England, and there has been an agreement that the recruitment of front line staff actually needs to increase, not decrease. Many of them will be transferred to the Bank of England in the near future. There will be savings in the HR and admin functions, but not in the roles we are discussing." So that's all right then. I was then told to do an online financial exam, against the clock. I ploughed through it, ignoring the telephone and personal callers who all seemed to decide that was a good moment to want to speak to me. There must be some sort of "hassle" feature on my computer. Again, it seemed to do the trick as I was asked to check my online account to chose a date for an assessment at Canary Wharf. It turned out that this was a "Hobson's Choice." One date. In two days time. And there was an N.B. "The FSA does not reimburse candidate travel expenses." Gulp. Not for the first time I wished there was such a thing as a normal person's railcard. Still, I girded my loins, broached my wallet, wielded my plastic, and bought the tickets.

Those of you who've ever been to FSA HQ in Canary Wharf will know just how impressive it is. A startlingly huge building, replete with framed pictures which I suspect are not mass produced, and surfaces which sparkle. A small band of candidates were ushered to one of a multitude of meeting rooms. I chatted to one of the two HR helpers assigned to us. "Oh, there was a huge reluctance to consider candidates from outside the financial services. Lot of arguments. In the end the blockers said ' Well, they won't pass the online exam anyway' so gave in. But in fact, we're finding candidates from outside the industry are getting higher marks on the exam than those already in financial services!" I warmed to our guide, but wondered how he felt about being involved in a massive recruitment effort when his function had been identified as a target for reduction. Did he even know?

The process had two parts. The first was the examination of a massive bundle of (invented) data on a (fictitious) financial situation. I had to prepare a presentation of exactly ten minutes on it to two interviewers, who would then quiz me on it for twenty minutes. They were strict on the limit, actually setting a timer off. This is the sort of thing I'm now trying to do for a living, albeit presentations for investment, and investors have shorter attention spans than bankers. I drew my presentation to a close, said "any questions" and the buzzer went. One of my interviewers said "Wow. Good job!" and was quickly silenced by a glance from the more senior member. The questions seemed straightforward and I left the room feeling hopeful.

The next session was a competency based interview. The panel of two was a relatively young woman (late 20s/early 30s) and her boss. The temperature plummeted as I entered the room. Something certainly didn't feel right. "So, why have you applied for the job when you're an engineer?" "Well, I saw the advert, and I'd already come to realise that financial services can't be regarded as separate to engineering. They are important to it. So it seemed to be an opportunity to help fix an industry that needs to work well for engineering in the UK to work." There was a pause. "And what training would you need?" I thought for a moment. "Well, I understand that your training course covers an introduction to financial services. I'd need to understand the culture and legislation." The atmosphere seemed to warm a little, and there followed a ten minute description of how excellent their training course was.

At the end of the session I had the opportunity to ask questions. "Is there anything about the FSA you don't like?" I asked the young woman. "Well," she said, "the pay is quite low compared to the industry norms." I gave a start; the range quoted for what was clearly a fairly junior audit clerk type role was more than I had been making as a director in a £30M turnover manufacturing company. She ignored her boss's warning glance and carried on. Clearly I had ignited her fuse. "It's not uncommon for people to leave to go into the City on multiples of what they earn here." Her boss stepped in. "Well, we are aware of this, and I think I can say that the upcoming reorganisation does give us the opportunity to rescale in line with the industry norms." I could hear banking's siren call, and it sounded remarkably like the ringing of cash registers ...

So a week later I was called up by an HR person. "I'm sorry to say..." It wasn't unexpected; I had wondered whether I'd come across as too willing to take risks or not willing to go back to a junior role. I asked the obvious question. "Why?" The woman on the other end clearly ran down a chart. "Well, erm, let's see. Your case study. Oh, that was one of the best we've had. Hmm. Oh here we are. You didn't reach the required standard in two areas. 'Motivation' - you apparently applied because you saw an advert. 'Knowledge of the financial industry' - apparently you don't know much about the industry."

I was quiet for a few seconds. "Sorry, could you repeat that?" She did. As did her supervisor. As did her supervisor's supervisor, by e-mail, over the period of a month. Apparently I scored one of the best marks they've had on the case study, the test of how well someone could do the job, but because I'd been persuaded to apply for the job by an advert, asking for applicants from outside the industry, and was from outside the industry, I was ineligible. Bizarrely I'd also scored very highly on my understanding of the challenges facing the industry. Despite apparently not understanding the industry. I noted that it was a bit of a waste of public money advertising for candidates who, if they answered the advert, were ineligible to be considered. "Oh, it's not public money" I was told, with no defence of the "waste" part. I pointed out that funds obtained by being the monopoly supplier of a government mandated regulatory service were certainly not gained through private enterprise, and most if not all of the financial industry regarded that payment as a tax. At which point the by now quite senior person I was exchanging e-mails with said, in effect, "look, if we just pay you for your travel will you fuck off?" But with more words, and no swearing.

I accepted, and took it as a valuable lesson. I'm pretty sure from my conversation with the HR person that many of the senior people within what is, for the moment, the FSA are dead set against non-financial service candidates being offered posts. If any with that mindset end up assessing the competency interview then such candidates have no chance at all of being accepted. I'd also say, from my experience and the comments made to me, that anyone expecting the whole edifice to get any cheaper from the reorganisation is deluded. Clearly those working there are viewing it as a fantastic opportunity to get a bigger trough to put their snouts in.

The dark side is seductive, but those on the dark side aren't looking for new recruits! Did I get a lucky escape? Mind you, the money would have been nice!