I’m Not Your Support Person

Just because my blog addresses one of your problems doesn’t mean I’m willing to spend time giving you more help or advice than what you find here.

The other day, I got an email and three texts from a fellow maker. He sells on Etsy and has had a bunch of problems with them, all of which he listed in his email message. He had read the post I wrote last year about why I left Etsy and seemed to think I would be his go-to source for help finding an alternative for his niche market handmade items.

I saw the email and got the gist of it after reading just a few lines. It was early evening — unlike too many other folks, I don’t sit with notifications turned on and respond to every bing emitted by my phone. Email, in fact, is one of the worst ways to reach me because I hate checking it. So I figured I’d give it a closer look in the morning.

Text Messages
Here are the initial three messages. I did get the email he’s referring to. I just don’t drop everything to answer emails from strangers. Does anyone?

I’m not much better with texts, which is the next way he chose to reach out. He sent three of them.

That got me kind of annoyed. Yes, I wrote a blog post about why I left Etsy. And I believe that every creator of quality merchandise should do the same. (I won’t repeat why here. Read the post.) But just because I left Etsy and wrote about it doesn’t mean I’m anyone’s source for one-on-one support for Etsy dissatisfaction.

Deja Vu All Over Again

It’s just like when I wrote computer how-to books for a living. Someone would buy one of my books for about $20 — of which I’d be lucky to see $1 of income — and they’d automatically assume that I would answer all of their questions regarding the topic of the book. I cannot tell you how many email messages and phone calls I got in the early 2000s. That’s why the Contact page on my blog says this, right at the top of the page:

Support and Frequently Asked Questions

I no longer provide support for my books, articles, Web site, or anything else by email, contact form, U.S. mail, or telephone. There are no exceptions to this rule. I simply cannot provide one-on-one support for my work — especially work that is no longer in print.

Note that it includes “Web site” and “anything else.” This person used the form on that page without bothering to read what was right on the top.

Unfair Expectations

More Text Messages
Here’s the first round of responses. When he came back with more nastiness this morning, I responded and then deleted the thread.

Rather than just delete the email message and text messages — as, in hindsight, I really think I should have — I answered him honestly, trying to be gentle about it. But he got snippy and sarcastic. When I told him that I’ve been dealing with requests for help for the past 40 years — okay, maybe just 30 — he came back with more nastiness and told me I should give up blogging.

Oh really? Being a blogger means you’ll help any schmuck who reads your words and wants personalized assistance?

I told him that after blogging for more than 20 years that wasn’t likely.

I also told him that he needs an attitude adjustment and he needs to stop expecting strangers to help him with his problems. (I wish I still had the actual text I sent, but I deleted the whole exchange right after sending that last one and, for once, Apple has actually removed it from Messages on all of my devices. Go figure.) I wasn’t being nice anymore. I was being blunt. I wanted this guy to go away and I really don’t give a damn if he likes me or not.

But that’s my point of view on the issue. Yes, I wrote about it. I wrote 2600 words about it. That’s all I have to say on this matter in a public forum. My blog does not exist as a gateway to using me for support. It’s all of the support I am willing to give, all packaged up in individual blog posts.

Solve Your Own Problems

And that brings me to this, which I see as a major problem in today’s world: no one wants to do their homework anymore. Everyone would rather just get all the answers from someone else, even if that person is a stranger.

Like me, this guy has become dissatisfied with Etsy. Well, Etsy isn’t the only place to sell. There’s Shopify and some maker co-op that the folks on Mastodon keep pushing and the solution I went with: setting up a shop with my Square account. A Google search for “where can I sell my homemade widgets” will get him started on possible solutions. Reading reviews and blog posts and forum posts about those solutions can help him learn the pros and cons of them — so he can pick the one that’s right for him and his business.

Expecting a perfect stranger to take him by the hand in a phone call and walk him through the process of finding his perfect solution is unrealistic.

I have a full life and lots of things to take up my time. (Including, apparently, ranting about situations like this in my blog.) I’m running three small businesses by myself and trying to bring in some extra income in early retirement, before taking social security payments. I should be working on my Great Loop book or making jewelry right now. (I hope to do both with the rest of my day.)

Maybe our text exchange will be a wakeup call for him.

Or maybe it won’t.

The Joys of Having an Expired SSL Certificate

A frustrating waste of time.

A few months ago, when it became clear that the Republican led congress was going to allow ISPs to sell our browsing history to the highest bidders, I got a bit more concerned about security. In my research, I came across an article that recommended that users never visit a website without an SSL certificate.

If you don’t know how to tell whether a site has an SSL certificate, the easiest way is to look at the full URL. If it starts with https:// instead of http:// it has an SSL certificate. Think of that extra character, the s, as standing for secure.

Also, some web browsers display a special icon — such as a lock — near the URL or possibly in the status bar at the bottom of the page.

One thing is for sure: You should only enter personal data in pages that are SSL-protected. So if you don’t know how to check for a secure page in your browser, learn.

Of course, at the time, this blog did not have an SSL certificate. I’d done some research in the past and decided it wasn’t worth the cost. After all, although I do get a few donations — thank you generous supporters! — it isn’t as if this site earns any money for me. Hosting costs enough money; buying a certificate wasn’t in the budget.

Still that article made me wonder if I were losing visitors because I didn’t have that certificate. So I did some more research and discovered that my WordPress host, Bluehost, offered a free SSL certificate for subscribers. I made a few calls, clicked a few links, installed a WordPress plugin, and voila! I had a coveted https:// URL.

And then I pretty much forgot about it. After all, typing in the old URL (without the s) still pointed people to the new one. And who types in the whole thing anyway? If you put in any combination of URLs to get to this site — or if you clicked a link that took you here — some sort of behind-the-scenes magic put you on a secure page.

Yesterday changed that. I went to check the site and was faced with the following message:

Page is Not Secure

WTF?

Of course, I discovered this about 30 minutes before a friend was due to arrive to detail my helicopter and I had about a half dozen other things I wanted/needed to do before he arrived — like get dressed? (It was 5:30 AM.) So I did the easy thing: I called Bluehost and asked them what the hell was going on.

The support guy I got was very fond of the hold button. I don’t know if it’s because he really needed help or if he was working on more than one call at a time. I was on hold for most of the 45 minutes our call lasted. While I waited, my friend came, I greeted him in my pajamas, I made him coffee, and I put a bowl of cherries in front of him, occasionally interrupting our conversation to speak with the Bluehost support guy when he came back on the phone.

My big concern was this: people would be scared away by that message. They’d click a link, get to my site, and leave, thinking they’d get a virus or something. I needed the problem resolved quickly.

I was told that Comodo, the organization that provided the SSL certificates, had sent me some sort of verification email that I needed to click a link in. I told him I’d never gotten a message, although it could have been sorted into spam and automatically deleted. He asked me to check a specific email address. I told him I didn’t have that email address. “Well, that’s where the message was sent.”

This made no sense. It was not the email address I had on file with Bluehost. It was an email address on my domain that I had never set up. I checked and verified that it didn’t exist. Comodo had sent an email message to an address that I’d never created or used.

Seriously: WTF?

Mr Hold Button told me to create the address, which I did while he waited. Then, after putting me on hold for a while longer, he told me they’d send a new message and that I should follow the instruction in it.

By this time, I was tired of dealing with the problem. I needed to get dressed. I needed to pull the helicopter out so my friend could get started on it. I needed to do the other things I needed to do. So I told him I’d check in a while and hung up.

And then I forgot about it.

You see, I have a life and that life does not revolve around dealing with computer issues. That was my old life. My new life is far more interesting.

Besides, I had no intention of adding that new email address to any of my email clients on any of my devices. That meant I had to sit at a computer and go to the Webmail feature on Bluehost to check the message. Not exactly something I’m likely to remember.

But I got reminded again this morning when it still didn’t work right. One of my readers emailed me. I also noticed when I attempted to approve two comments.

I checked that stupid email inbox. Empty.

I got on the phone with Bluehost.

This time I got a guy who didn’t like touching the hold button. He stuck with me while we worked through the problem. There was a lot of silent time. He was texting with Comodo. I was starting to write this blog post. Occasionally, he would update me. Occasionally I’d whine to him about how ridiculous the whole thing was. He was suitably sympathetic. I was as apologetic as I could be. After all, it wasn’t his fault.

In the end, the email message finally came. I clicked the link — but not after lecturing him about how we’re not supposed to click links in email messages. I entered the secret code. He confirmed some stuff on his end. I snacked on some cherries. When he said, “Try now,” I did.

The problem was fixed. It had taken 22 minutes.

We wished each other a nice day. When I got the survey at the end of the call, I gave him a good score.

So it looks like this site is secure again — at least until the next time Comodo decides it needs to verify me.

And yes, this did impact site traffic. I had less than half my usual visitors yesterday and started today at about one quarter the traffic I should have had by noon.

DJI Sales Support Experience Update

This is a total fail.

Back in January, I blogged about ordering a Mavic flying camera from DJI, a company with plenty of slick marketing materials that make it look as if they have a significant U.S. presence but apparently operate 100% in China. At about the time I had my lengthy online chat with DJI’s support people, I also sent an email message to them asking about the status of my order.

That was January 9, 2017.

On February 13, 2017 — yes, five full weeks later — I got the following response from them:

DJI Support Email

Of course, by this point, I’d already gotten my Mavic. In fact, I got it less than two weeks after my email message to them. It just took them 5 weeks to send me a canned response that provided no help and certainly proved they hadn’t looked into my support request at all.

I’m not the only one who is amazed at the complete lack of sales support from DJI. My friend Jim, who saw and liked my Mavic, decided to buy one, too. He ordered from DJI and was originally told it would ship out within a few days. Later, they changed that to a few weeks. He cancelled the order and ordered from Amazon instead. He’ll have it by the end of the week.

I can’t knock the product. The Mavic is an amazing tool for aerial photography and videography that’s incredibly easy to fly. I blogged a bit about it here. But the quality of sales support by DJI is dismal.

With so many customers in the U.S., would it kill them to open a call center with access to sales info to help its new customers? They must be absolutely raking in the dough on these things — they’re not cheap.

And are we going to be similarly served if anything goes wrong with our Mavics and we need technical support under our extended warranties? I sure hope not.