Author: anthony Page 1 of 78

Jim and I were out running errands and stopped at a Panda Express for dinner. 

It was crowded when we went in and the groups in front of us had oddly complicated orders.  I usually get the shrimp, but couldn’t find it behind the glass and had trouble with my order as well. 

While we were in line, the volume in the restaurant steadily went up to the point that it was hard to hear the server and be heard as well.   When we finally got our food and sat down, it got worse.

The customers in line were loud. The servers were loud back. The cooking stations had multiple types of loud notification beeps.  The soda machine refilled itself with ice in the loudest way possible. The air conditioner had a rattle.  And the group sitting next to us were shouting at each other. 

I started to eat, trying to concentrate on the simple act of bringing food to my mouth and chewing/swallowing – and realized my hands were shaking.

Everything was so loud and overwhelming.

I wanted to shout at everyone to be quiet – even just for a moment.  I wanted to break all the machines and their endless beeping.  And I wanted to abandon my meal and just…run.

But, instead of doing any of those things, I just stamped an imaginary boot down on my anxiety and held it down long enough to get control of my hands and eat my dinner.

I’ve been skeptical of people that have sensory issues – thinking that in some cases they are just checking out on the responsibility of being aware of the world around them.   But, maybe I was in the same boat – if only for one meal at the Panda.

And maybe I need to start carrying earplugs.

A while back, we had a guy on campus – in one of the public spaces – with a sign proclaiming that the earth was flat.

I don’t know if the same guy was back or if it was a different nutjob, but there was a guy in front of our building with two signs – claiming the moon landing was fake.  

He had a couple of people in front of him as I walked past on my way to lunch and a bigger crowd when I went past again on my way back. 

As I walked past, shaking my head, I heard him quote the Red Hot Chili Peppers song “Californication”

Space may be the final frontier, but it’s made in a Hollywood basement

as apparently a further justificaiton of his beliefs. Seriously.

I clapped my hand to my forehead and shook my head with disgust and quickly went on my way.

When I got back to my office, two of my coworkers told me they had been out on the balcony trying to hear what he was saying – and saw me being completely disgusted from three stories away.

Apparently, I was not at all hiding my feelings.

And, it really got to me.  I’ve managed to mostly ignore the Jehovah’s Witness folks that lurk near the student union, avoid the flat earthers, and tune out the anti-abortion shouters – but this hit me harder than usual.

We’ve spent the past year working on a rebranding and relaunch of our website to try and make it more engaging.  We want students with fresh ideas and big dreams to come to our school and go on to have successful lives and adventures.   It’s about knowledge and science and art – and this idiot has to set up shop right outside my office to spout the dumbest kind of misinformation.

He should have been ignored.  And I kinda wanted to punch him.

But I managed to do neither.

So he’ll be back until he runs out of steam or finally is disruptive enough that he gets kicked off of campus.  

Which can’t be soon enough for me.  There’s enough misinformation in the world – I’d like at least one place to be a place of information and education.

It was a Friday around noon when a few people started reporting slow downs in editing the website.  The live site was fine, but the editor interface was failing. 

Once I had enough confirmations from reliable reporters, I opened up a ticket with our website vendor to investigate.  While I was doing so, it seemed to be getting better – but it was still noteworthy enough that I was hoping for a review of the logs.

They got back to me right away – our website was under attack. 

It was a bot swarm and it was overloading our servers.  The live site was okay only because we have a CDN running – a Content Delivery Network – that we had put in place after the last attack.  The CDN creates geographically separated copies of the site to help protect against this very thing.

Vendor support kept updating the ticket and I tried to keep our editors and colleagues updated – including our own support desk. 

And then, things got worse.  

Our vendor support cranked up the settings on the CD to try and block the attack, but it got too sensitive and started to block us from seeing our own live website – though the editing was back to normal.

Now the calls and emails really started to roll in.  “Did you know the website is down?”

Of course I did.

I quickly updated the vendor support ticket to report the new issue and sent out another wave of emails to update our editors.  And updated my boss.

The vendors adjusted the sensitivity back down a bit and our pages started to show up again in live mode. And the editor interface was still working too.  

I reported back to the vendor of the success after some testing, but waited a bit longer before updating our site editors with the “all-clear”.

The end result was…nothing.  We went partly down for a little bit, but everyone involved worked quickly and efficiently to respond to the attack.

It was a rough way to spend a Friday afternoon, though. 

Stupid bots.

In the weeks before the Sakura festival this year, I got an email from a UA student that was working with journalism students at the I Promise school.  She said they were working on a story about the Sakura festival and asked if I would be interested in being interviewed.

I, of course, said yes.   We traded emails back and forth to get things set up with the day and time – and I offered to bring some paper to do a demo.  I got the time off work and went over to the school a few minutes away from campus.  I checked in at the office and waited – I was early because I’m always early. 

One of the UA students collected me and took me over to the media room.  They had four I Promise students and they got a camera and microphone set up.  The kids each had questions for me and it was more about the festival than my part.  I had submitted questions which they didn’t use and ended up winging it. 

Thank you, Student Toastmasters.

Once we got through the questions we set up at a table and I made some origami – narrating as I went along and telling some stories.  The kids were really fascinated and were delighted when they each got something.

The UA student thanked me as she walked me out and said it may be a few weeks before they will have the final video.  My part may end up mostly on the cutting room floor since it will only be a 4 minute video, but I think I did a good thing and made a positive contribution.

One funny side note.   The school had a metal detector at the entrance and when I stepped through I set it off.  Could have been my belt, my rings or watch, or even the metal collar stays in my shirt.  Or more likely my keys.  I started to step back through to try to de-metal myself, but the security guard stopped me and said I didn’t have to.  I was in a nice shirt and tie, nice dress pants and shoes, and I was wearing my UA nametag.  I guess I looked either official enough or more likely non-threatening enough that I didn’t need much scrutiny.

So, there’s my latest 15 – or really less than 4 – minutes of fame.  I’ll share the video link with my boss – since he gave me the time off to do this – and maybe on social media if I’m not too embarrassed.

Another webmaster email story – but this one has a happy ending. I got a message asking about the upcoming NOTED career day for teachers and when I went to try and find some info on our site, I got nowhere. 

But, something jostled around in my head – somewhere in the back.  Some fragment of information that was relevant somehow. 

So, I let it sit for a few minutes while I worked on other things. 

And then, I figured it out.  The missing info was a poster in the elevator of my building.  Northern Ohio Teacher Educator Day.   I had seen the poster – and a few others – in my short rides up to the office.   It sat there in the back storage of my brain and it took a little ruminating to convert it to the acronym.

I got up from my desk and walked out to the hallway, then hit the button to summon the elevator.

When the doors opened I held them open with my foot, then got my camera out and snapped a pic of the poster and also copied the link from the QR code, in case it couldn’t be picked up from the image.

I let the doors close and went back to my desk – where I sent the photo and the link to myself first.

I then replied to the note, including the picture of the poster, the link, and a note about where I found this and why. 

I felt really proud about how I was able to cleverly figure this out.   I got a response a little later in the day that just said, “Thank you!”  – as though this amount of work goes into every email I reply to.

Anyway, I was proud of myself – even if no one else really cares.

The cherry blossoms are in bloom in Akron and I was invited back to the Sakura festival to teach origami.

Last time around I had been a bit worried about cultural appropriation.  I mean, I’m the caucasianest caucasian around and my culture  – whatever it is – didn’t invent origami.   But, since no one objected to me last time and no one stepped up to push me aside, I was back again.

The event was in downtown Akron at Lock 3 and I got there plenty early in case I got lost.  I did okay getting from the parking deck to the venue with my box of paper and another box of giveaways, but once there I noted a distinct lack of signs.  I wandered around for a bit and stopped to try and call the coordinator.  

She didn’t answer, but as I was hanging up the phone and preparing to wander again someone stopped and asked me for directions to the restroom.  An honest mistake – I had on a nice shirt, tie, and namebadge.  I told him I was lost too, but that I thought I had seen them down the hall and to the left.  He didn’t come storming right back so I assumed I guessed correctly.

I finally found the info table, met the coordinator in person, and saw a friend from work.  I was still plenty early and left my boxes behind to walk around a bit.   And take pictures of the cherry blossoms, naturally.

There was a big crowd, lots of booths, and some folks playing the kodo drums in 80 degree heat.  Impressive.

When I was time to get started I headed back to the workshop area.  And then things started to go sideways.  

With about 15 minutes before I was supposed to start – during the time I should have been setting up – the tea ceremony using the space before me was still going on.  I recognized from last year that the step they were on was right in the middle of the process.

I had two projects planned for each session and it was going to take the entire time.  I couldn’t get set up and also the paper that was supposed to be supplied wasn’t anywhere to be seen.  I went to find the coordinator and maybe have them help hurry things along, but though she got the paper, the tea ceremony was still going.

They were just wrapping up after I was supposed to have started and it took them awhile to clear the tables.  I was finally able to start setting up – well behind schedule – and called people over to the tables. 

And it was a full house.  There were seats for about 30 people and nearly all were full.  The tea ceremony people were still talking as they cleaned up their area and my crowd was chatty as  well.  We also had a crying baby, a harried mom trying to fold 2 sets for her kids, three people that came in very late (even as late as we were), and a woman that brought in her two small dogs.

It was chaos.

I tried to be everywhere at once – helping people along and keeping things moving.  Most of the people got through the first thing we did – a flower – but by that point we were out of time.  I had 15 minutes between sessions to reset the space, but we couldn’t have gotten through anything in that time.  Especially since I had planned on doing the hopping frog. Too many steps for the time we had.

I got some nice thank you’s and most people took some free origami as they left.  I was a little harried and scarfed down a protein bar to keep my energy up. 

The next group started to come in and it ended up only being about 10 people.  The tea ceremony folks left and things settled down.  That second group was focused and engaged – so much so that we did flowers, birds, and butterflies all in the session.  Everyone walked out happy and it was a huge success.  

I reset the room again and the last group that came in had about 12 people, including one later comer.   Not quite as focused, but still had fun.  We made a flower and a frog.

I got a lot of thank you’s again and it was another success.  As they left, I started my own cleanup – far easier than the tea ceremony folks – and was out the door right on schedule.

When I got home I ate a quick meal and then collapsed on the couch.  There was some effort in carrying around the supplies and in trying to be everywhere at once in the workshop area to help people, but mostly it was being “on” for 2 hours.  I like to teach origami and I like the problem solving of figuring out where a fold has gone wrong and getting things on track, but the steady patter and concentration took a toll on my reserves.

Three four things of note:

1. In between sessions I also went and found the restroom – and it was right where I had thought it was.  So, I guess I wasn’t quite as lost as I thought.
2. Someone gave me an apple wrapped up in saran wrap.  Apple for the teacher, I guess.
3. A guy at the second session asked if I knew how to make a dragon.  I said it was too complicated to teach, but there was time to make one.  I think I surprised myself at how quickly I made one for him – we were both impressed.
4. One of the common steps is to fold points to the middle of the paper.  I described that step as “the points should meet in the middle – just like that song”.  Only one person got the joke and quietly began singing “Middle” by Maren Morris.

So, three sessions of origami instruction for people that attended the Sakura festival in Akron this weekend.  Maybe it will spark some new hobbies for people.  Or, at least, I hope it brightened their days while they learned something new. 

It was the day of the No Kings protest in Akron and I was on the fence.

On the one hand, supporting my community and adding my voice to oppose tyranny seems like the thing to do.  On the other, I just didn’t want to.  

Oh, I tried to rationalize why I didn’t want to go.  Fearful of arrest or getting hurt.  Consequences for my job in the still very red state of Ohio.   The list went on, but I knew the risks of all of those were very very small. 

So, did a quick bit of very Anthony-covers-all-the-bases prep work.  I planned enough time to get lunch on the way.  I put on comfortable shoes and the appropriate amount of layers of clothes for the weather.  I added a neck gaiter in case I needed to cover my face quickly. 

I headed out, got lunch, and planned my route into Akron to avoid traffic.  I parked in the parking deck at work and left my powered-off phone in the car to limit tracking.  I finished my lunch in the office and decorated the very silly paper crown I had made with the crossed out symbols.  I didn’t have time to make a sign and if need be, it was something I could quickly ditch if I needed to bail out. 

With about 20 minutes until start time, I left the office and used the bathroom.   I dropped off my wallet in the car on the way – except for my ID.  Again, assuming the worst.

I then walked down to the location and arrived right at the official start time.  It’s me, of course.

There was already a huge crowd, booths set up, and a small stage with a poetry reading.  So much for the start time. Nearly everyone had signs and I picked a small group that had cool signs and asked if my crown was appropriate. They thought it was subtle, but cool.  So, I put it on.  

Next time, though, I should make a sign. 

I listened to the poetry and then walked around a bit.  The protesters were careful to not block any traffic so I could have driven my usual route into the city. 

I wandered around a bit until I saw someone I knew.  We talked for a bit and she asked if we could take a selfie.

I told her that I had been a little hesitant about that, but I was over it.   She took the picture and joked that when ICE came after her finally, I would be next.  Gallows humor, I guess, but still humor since we’re both extremely white people – as were most of the protesters.

There goes all my paranoia preparation. 

We both decided to walk around and said our goodbyes.  I saw a couple of people that I thought I recognized, but not well enough to approach.  Well, at least at my current levels of social interaction ability.

I did see a few people wearing hi-vis vests labeled “national lawyers guild legal observer program”.  I guess they were there if things got out of hand, but I only saw a couple of police cars well back from the meeting up point.  And a few volunteers directing traffic as needed.

It was, as everyone except me expected, a very peaceful event.   

I wandered around for a bit, still wishing I had made a sign, and realized I didn’t really know what to do.  

It was my first protest, after all.  Though, I guess you could say that every Pride parade/fest is a protest of sorts. 

So, after about an hour there – halfway through the official event – I folded up my crown and put it in my back pocket and then walked back to the parking deck and my car.  I retrieved my phone and wallet and headed home.

I was there, I added myself to the numbers, and I guess that was it.   One person in the crowds, with crowds in many cities. 

Maybe it will make a difference. 

Oh, and the selfie has already made it to Facebook.

I was out running errands last weekend and stopped at Wendy’s for lunch.  While I was eating there, I saw a troop of girl scouts setting up a table outside next to the drive-through exit. 

It was a windy day and they were having trouble with the tablecloth and the rest of their setup. 

I read my book while I ate and kept an eye on their progress.  Several cars went past them as they exited the drive-through, but none were stopping.

I finished my meal and threw away my trash.  As I went out to my car, I had a quick mental debate:

On the one hand, that age of girl is impossibly annoying.  High pitched voices, constant chatter, and prone to inept displays of cheerleading routines.  I reflexively avoid them.  I’m also not overly fond of having kids fundraise  – seems like a bad idea to put them to work in sales from a young age. Just let kids be kids, you know?

On the other hand, maybe I just need to give my inner curmudgeon a break.  They were going to be out there even if no one buys a single box, but how disappointing that would be.  And their moms were trying.  And I had cash in my wallet and I do like cookies.

So, I put my book in my car, got my wallet out, and headed over to where they had the table set up.  As expected, one girl was shouting out some random math problems her calculator had solved. Annoying. Two others were working on a cheer routine. And it was general chaos. 

But, the little girl in charge of inventory went and got the box of Thin Mints as soon as I said what I wanted.  And, with a little help from a mom, another girl figured out my change.

They thanked me for my purchase and I walked back to my car. I had to go past them again as I pulled out of the parking lot and saw a couple approach their table. So, perhaps I had started a sales trend.

The cookies are in the refrigerator until I forget about them and then have a nice surprise later. 

For all my debate, In the end, it was just a box of cookies.

My dreams have gotten less frequent and tamer over time.  It used to be an adventure every night as I went to sleep – zombies, aliens, ninjas, etc. – with far flung travels to unknown worlds. 

Now, it’s unusual if I remember my dreams at all.  I know I’m still having them – I’d be insane otherwise (or at least moreso) – but it might as well be a void once my eyes close.

I woke up early this morning and realized that I wasn’t wearing my bite guard.  I got fitted with a guard by my dentist to address grinding my teeth at night.  It also helped with headaches in the morning, but not entirely.

I got up, a little puzzled since I remembered putting it in the night before, and got out of bed to check the nightstand and the cup in the bathroom.  I assumed I had taken it out in the night and forgot about it, but then I heard a clatter as it hit the floor.  At some point in the night – a while before, since it was dry – it had come out of my mouth and landed on my shirt.  I picked it up off the floor and debated about cleaning it and putting it back in.  

A glance at the clock told me I only had a couple hours left to sleep and I decided not to bother with it.  I set the guard on the night stand and went back to bed and to sleep.

I had two dreams that I remembered upon waking.

1. I was trying to co-opt my niece’s eyeglasses appointment.  The optometrist only had time for one of us and I made a case for going first and having her wait for another day. 

Not really in character for me, but likely prompted by getting a text from my optometrist’s office that my glasses were in on a Friday – an hour after they were closed and not open again until Monday. 

2. I was back in my high school and had started on a project to gut an entire wing and replace it with lifesized Minecraft blocks.  I remember telling someone I was going to need hundreds of trees.

I’ve clearly been playing too much Minecraft.

The obvious answer is that the bite guard means I’m sleeping more soundly and I’m not waking myself frequently enough to remember my dreams.  

But, what if there’s a less prosaic reason?  What if the dreams float around at night like ghostly snacks and we have to have at least a nibble to take them in?   Sweet, savory, spicy, bland, and salty might well describe the flavors of the dreams that I’m now missing.  With the bite guard, I can no longer sink my teeth into a good dream.

But, I’d rather have a dreamless void than grinding away my teeth and waking up with a headache every morning.  

Although, I wonder if I should take a nap…

I tend to get songs stuck in my head.  They play on repeat for a while, then another slots in from some other genre.

I recently got a fragment of a jazz song stuck and I could neither place it nor get rid of it.  It was instrumental – so no words to look up – and I couldn’t “sing” it well enough for anyone else to figure it out.  

I assumed it was something I had heard from a Peanuts TV special and I poured through hours of soundtracks to try and find a match.  

I had pretty much given up and the song faded a bit, popping up in my head at odd moments, before  – randomly – I saw a reference to Dave Brubek’s Take Five.  It wasn’t just any jazz song in my head, it was arguably one of the best known.  And once I heard it, the song slotted neatly back into my memory.

—-

More recently, I was listening to a late 90’s/early 2000’s playlist and I was reminded of another song from that era.  I remembered a female singer who belted out the refrain.   British, maybe.  Part of a band.  But that was all I had.

I put some effort into recalling the song and over a few days I could finally get the refrain looping in my head.  The music and the intensity – but no words yet.

Then, a few days ago, I finally recalled enough to bring up part of the phrase she kept repeating: “______as I am”  and I thought the band started with an “S”.  

Not enough yet, so I let that simmer in my head as my unconscious mind tried to slot every word I knew into that title.

Finally, while I was driving and stopped at a light, it clicked.

“Weak as I am” was the line. And the song was called “Weak”.    As the light changed to green, the band popped into my head – “Skunk Anasie”.

Satisfied, I drove on and listened to it when I got home.  Good song, but maybe not one I want add to a playlist.

—

I’ve been writing haikus for long enough that my memories in Facebook are littered with them.  Since there’s one for every day, patterns begin to emerge over the years. 

This morning, the steps and ramp out the back door were so ice covered that the dogs – and I – kept slipping.  Once they were safely inside I went back out to chip away at the thick ice with a small hammer.  It was hard work and I had to stop a few times to rest.  I didn’t get it all cleared and instead looked up Pet Safe Ice Melt.  While I was online I got a notice about memories on facebook and opened it up.  Sure enough, on the same day 4 years ago, I had written a haiku about chipping away at the ice to reach the patio.

I’m not just a creature of habit.  I’m a documented creature of habit.

———–

And now, here in 2026, we have another kind of ICE to worry about.  I’m not going to go into it – there’s enough media and rhetoric for a lifetime of blog posts – but it does remind me of my central problem with the history classes I took in school.

We, as a people, don’t learn anything from the past.  

It doesn’t matter how many dates of wars we memorize or the names of eras and decades we decide on, we keep making the same mistakes of the past.  I always found that frustrating and pointless in school. If we aren’t learning and aren’t getting better at avoiding past mistakes, what’s the point?

Hence, environments where the worst of humanity rise again and again. 

—–

So, I muddle back through my personal memories that are unreliable, but inconsequential,  and wonder if humans will get anything useful out of our own history.