My father, Harry (AKA Papa Codes) wakes up at the crack of dawn and starts his day by grabbing the newspaper and a coffee on his way to his barbershop in Albany.  By 6 am, his tools are neatly arranged, razors are sharp, and towels are folded as he awaits his first customer of the day.
My morning starts roughly the same, and a few times a week on my way into the radio station, shortly after 5 am, I'll call the Big Guy and we'll chat for a few minutes.
Well, we used to anyway.
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My commute into the radio station and back home is about 18-25 minutes depending on the time of day. It's pretty much a straight rip down from Fuller Road, over to Washington Ave extension, past Crossgates and Crossgates Commons until I hit the Pine Bush.
Photo: Google Maps
Photo: Google Maps
And lately, the Verizon cell service in that particular Albany/Colonie/Schenectady part of the Capital Region (roughly a 2 - 3 mile stretch) has been terrible.
Gone are the 10-minute chats with pops in the morning, or my mom in the afternoon.  The norm for several months in and around Washington Ave Extension has been more dropped calls than made, and most times I can't even complete a call let alone drop it.
The other day my mom spent 3 minutes telling me about some trial she's been watching on TV: why he's guilty, what the lawyers are saying, heck she was even all-in on what Nancy Grace thought.  The worst was calling her back 10 minutes later when I got service to tell her I didn't hear a single freaking word she said.
More chaos.
Mama Voicemail Picture
When I called Verizon to ask about their coverage, the lady was very pleasant but didn't offer up a whole lot in terms of answers.  She claimed that the coverage map didn't show anything unusual and basically told me my iPhone 8 was shit, and that I needed to upgrade to 5G which apparently is more compatible with today's cell towers.
Who knows.  I'm due for an upgrade anyway, but not because I really need a new phone.  It's because I don't know how to increase the storage capacity and Apple keeps threatening to delete everything known to mankind to make room.
In the meantime, I'll continue to roll the dice and hope that I don't need to make some sort of emergency call when I'm on Washington Avenue Extension,
Because the only thing Wash. Ave is extending these days is frustration.

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