Friday, June 9, 2006

An observation, not implying causality

St. Louis drivers get a bad rap, usually undeservedly so; I've driven in dozens of major cities and urban areas in three countries and by and large, motorists around here are no more nor less crazy or courteous than their counterparts elsewhere.

However, in the past couple of weeks, I've seen an uptick in the incidence of rude, dangerous or otherwise stupid driving. Maybe it's the heat. Who knows?

I've noticed something else, too: Every car, truck, van or SUV that's cut me off in traffic, nearly plowed into my bumper while on the phone, turned in front of me, ignored a signal, nearly creamed a bicyclist, changed lanes without blinkers, pitched litter out the window, come close to making me thankful for driver's side airbags or somehow violated one or more traffic laws had something in common: Each bore a bumpersticker touting the virtues of "Bush-Cheney" or "W" or opined, "It's a child, not a choice."

Without exception.

I'm just sayin'.

Thursday, August 11, 2005

Peeved

An open letter to software developers:

You know what I hate? I hate when you go to a company's website, buy a license for a piece of software then discover you have to wait "24-48 hours" for them to e-mail you a license code to unlock the application. Why is that even necessary in this day and age?

If I've reached the point of punching in my credit card number on your site, it means one of two things: Either your marketing pitch worked so well that you had me at "Hello" and I can't wait to use your product or, more likely, I've been using your crippled demo for enough time to know I like and need it and want to use it right now.

Which I can't. Because I'm still inexplicably waiting for you to e-mail me a license code.

Please, do two things:

1. Tell me before you've got my money that I'll have to wait.
2. But don't make me wait.

Wednesday, June 1, 2005

I just wanted to help

It took me a good 20 minutes last night trying to create an account at Citysearch because I couldn't get past the point on the registration form where they ask you to look at an obscured graphic image of a word or character string and then type it into a web form to prove you're a human being, not a spam-generating bot. Sometimes it's an English word or phrase graphically warped. Sometimes it's a string of random numbers and letters in mixed case you're expected to duplicate exactly.

Such image call-and-response tests are called CAPTCHA, which apparently stands for (I shit you not) "Completely Automated Public Turing test to tell Computers and Humans Apart". They're used all over the web and present some difficulties for individuals who are blind or have difficulty seeing. Of course, they also present some difficulties for everyone when they're implemented idiotically.

Here's the image Citysearch asked me to use:



What would you type in?

I typed "GANGS" and was kicked back to the same form with an error message saying I'd got it wrong. I've seen this on other sites and, usually, they'll give you another, different image to decipher. Not here. I was still looking at the same thing. Thinking perhaps my fingers had fumbled, I typed "GANGS" again and was rejected again, this time with two error messages because, unnoticed by me, the return to the form had obliterated the password I'd typed in twice earlier.

And here I was stuck. I futilely typed "GANGS" again, got an error and sat there frustrated for a good five minutes. By now, I didn't even want to register at Citysearch, but it had become a challenge to see just what the implacable computer on the other end of the web wanted from me. Hmm, thought I. Perhaps—and this is incredibly stupid of them—they want me to type the spaces preceding the word too. So I tried successive variations including " GANGS" (one space), "  GANGS" (two spaces), "   GANGS" (three), and "    GANGS" (four).

No dice.

My final try before giving up and climbing in to bed was the winner. What did Citysearch expect me to type when confronted with the image above? "gangs"—yes, in lower case, despite the fact that every other instance of this procedure I've encountered on the web has conditioned me to attempt to duplicate the graphic text exactly. Citysearch wanted me do the opposite.

It is no wonder a good deal of the information on their site is significantly wrong or out of date. When well-intentioned folks like me try to log in and help them correct it, they're thwarted in their attempts and give up, consigning the site to irrelevancy.

Its enough to make you want to join a gang. Or more probably, a GANG.

Sunday, May 29, 2005

Saints preserve us!

I do it several times a week, but given how awful and awkward the experience can be, it's a wonder I do it at all.

No, not that.

I'm talking about purchasing products or arranging travel online. Now, to be clear, the experience is significantly easier than it ever was and for certain things—media and travel especially—the majority of my commerce is e-. One of my biggest peeves, though, is that I can't seem to convince anyone that I live in St. Louis.

This problem crops up most when I'm trying to make hotel reservations or buy airline tickets. I go through the process with relative ease until the time comes to pay. I enter all of my particulars: name, phone number, e-mail address, frequent flyer info and credit card number. Then, to validate that last bit, I'm asked for the billing address for my Visa or MasterCard. I fill it in, click "Submit" and...

Well, one of two things usually happens. Either the site insists that I've erred and provides a way for me to go back and "correct" the information, or it fails spectacularly, pitching up an inscrutible error message with no way to recover except to begin the whole process again.

The mistake? The site requires that I enter my billing address and, when I typed "St. Louis" into the City field, it is rejected.

It seems what it wanted me to say (and this varies widely across a number of sites) was either "ST LOUIS", "Saint Louis", "SAINT LOUIS" or "St Louis". The computer on the other end can't deal with punctuation or abbreviation, despite the fact that there is no indication of such on the web form I'm filling in, nor is there any indication in the resulting error of exactly what I've done wrong or why.

This is especially annoying if I've been asked to enter the address to which the bank sends my monthly statements and I'm looking right at one that shows it was sent to "St. Louis". I wonder if the folks in St. Paul or Sault Ste. Marie have the same problems.

Related peeve: Being told to enter my name exactly as it appears on the charge plate (BRAD L GRAHAM, incidentally) and then being provided with only fields for First Name and Last Name. Or a single field that, like City, won't accept periods and chides me for typing "Brad L. Graham".