Like so many in Milwaukee, I've suffered through two and a half years as an AT&T Wireless customer, mostly unable to place or receive a call inside my own home. I encounter dropped calls and spotty reception in the places I need my phone most: on Lincoln Memorial Drive, in the Third Ward and atop the Hoan Bridge (my calls drop each and every single time), to name just a few. I left Verizon in 2008, after 10 years, first to be able to use my phone in Europe, then to purchase my first of two iPhones.
I've had great experiences with AT&T's customer service reps, from the store employees up to corporate; they even sent engineers to my house in Bay View to see if they could optimize the signal. They couldn't, but I appreciated their efforts.
Still, had you asked me last week if there was any chance I'd sign a new contract when mine expires this summer, even if it meant it was the only way to get a new iPhone on June 24, I'd say no freakin' way.
Then, on Monday, I got my hands on a 3G microcell, and I saw my reception instantly increase from zero to five bars within my entire house.
Problem solved. Finally. Not everywhere, but where I need it most.
And now I'm drawn. The microcell absolutely amazing, but it's also the product I hate to love.
You see, this tiny cell phone tower pulls at every fiber of my über-consuming, free-market advocating, gadget-obsessing being: using it diverts calls from AT&T's overstressed and underpowered network onto your own home Internet network ... but you are still charged your cell minutes to use it (unless you buy a higher-priced plan). By relieving network congestion, AT&T's service becomes better for everyone ... but you have to pay them for the privilege of having your phone work.
In other words, if you're an idealist and can tell Ma Bell that you're mad as hell and aren't going to take it anymore, you can switch carriers. Big talk, yes, but iPhone addicts aren't guaranteed to get the device on Verizon or any other carrier anytime soon -- if ever.
On the other hand, if you can stomach the idea of paying AT&T $150 to make your home a place where you and up to 10 friends can actually place a call, this is a godsend: you plug it into your router with a view of the sky (its GPS system ensures you're not installing this in Europe, for example) and in about 45 minutes, bam; perfect reception for calls and text.
Through a Web interface, you can add numbers that work on the microcell; people passing by don't get to use it. The activation is straightforward, but a little weird -- I'm not used to networking setups taking "up to 90 minutes." But it worked, and continues to work great. When you leave your 5,000 square foot bubble of coverage, the microcell automatically switches to a real tower without terminating the call. I've read some users who say the microcell hogs their bandwidth and slows down their Web surfing, but I haven't experienced that yet.
So far, I'm nothing short of blown away.
There are some tales online of furious customers complaining loudly enough to get this microcell for a discount or for free; my contact at AT&T said the price is a firm $150, so I wish you a successful negotiation with your rep.
For me, I can put up with the otherwise shoddy service for now, as long as I can make calls at home, and I can prepare to upgrade to the iPhone 4 with much less guilt. I'll still curse every dropped call on the Hoan Bridge, but sooner or later, I assume AT&T will get its act together.
So, decide where you want to make a stand on principles, and if this isn't it, run, don't walk to an AT&T store and get yourself a microcell -- cursing long-term contracts and device exclusivity the whole, maddening way.
Andy is the president, publisher and founder of OnMilwaukee. He returned to Milwaukee in 1996 after living on the East Coast for nine years, where he wrote for The Dallas Morning News Washington Bureau and worked in the White House Office of Communications. He was also Associate Editor of The GW Hatchet, his college newspaper at The George Washington University.
Before launching OnMilwaukee.com in 1998 at age 23, he worked in public relations for two Milwaukee firms, most of the time daydreaming about starting his own publication.
Hobbies include running when he finds the time, fixing the rust on his '75 MGB, mowing the lawn at his cottage in the Northwoods, and making an annual pilgrimage to Phoenix for Brewers Spring Training.
