Author: anthony Page 10 of 72

“I’d like to speak to the person in charge of the website,”

I found out afterwards that this is what she said to the operator to get transferred over to me.  

Now, there’s a zero percent chance for a conversation that starts off with that to be anything other than a complete train-wreck.  It’s either going to be a sales call from someone too lazy to actually look at the website and send me an email that I can then delete – or it’s going to be someone that has an issue about something that happens to be on the website, but can’t be bothered to find contact info for someone that can actually do something about the content.

And, oh boy, do I wish this had been a sales call.

Instead, it was a woman who wanted to talk to someone about why UA didn’t have any keynote speakers that had a conservative viewpoint.

Now, I can’t pretend to follow everything she covered in her 25 minute stream-of-consciousness phone call, but I can share what I said to her in the few instances where I could get a word in edgewise.    And that may have been the most frustrating part for me – I’m a problem solver and answer provider down to the very core of my DNA. And if given a whole slew of problems and questions and then not be given the chance to answer them?  Shudder. Not good.

I explained that UA did not have a central point for keynote speakers but that this was based on individual groups and events.  And that not everything ended up on the website – it was the responsibility of the group to put the time and effort into promoting the event.

I assured her that we do not censor events, at all.  

I asked her why she had focused in on the Keynote speakers – noting that this is a very small part of what happens on campus and that most of what we do is in the classrooms.  She didn’t really have an answer for that and it sounded like she might try to expand her search criteria. Hmmm…

I explained that we have a number of two year and technical programs – as well as real-world internships – in response to her suggestion that Universities don’t teach anything practical. 

I cited the various viewpoints from the Bliss Institute in response to the idea that we lean one way or the other.  

She was all over the map, basically slamming all universities for not promoting conservative viewpoints.  

And then, she said something that explained the entire conversation. 

She talked about how she was an alumni  – actually, from about the same time frame as me – and that she had sent her son to a university.  But not UA – and not that one in Chicago that kept calling her even though the murder rate is worse there than what you’d get on the front-lines of war.

Her son had been raised with a conservative background, went to college, and then suddenly was a liberal.  He was allowed to do that – she raised him to have his own opinion – but she was clearly disappointed that he had given up his conservative ideals and she blamed a University.  And so she wanted to ensure – as an alumni – that UA wasn’t promoting a liberal agenda. 

So, it was a causality problem.  Conservative + University = Liberal   When in fact, it could have been any number of a thousand things.  He might have had a room-mate that had immigration issues and caused him to re-think his viewpoint on that topic.  He might have been in a play that talked about race relations. He might have been asked to debate the opposite side of a political topic as a mental exercise and found a different viewpoint in the process.  

Or there might have been a cute liberal girl in his math class that turned his head.  Who knows?

But none of that really mattered.  She wasn’t really looking for answers – she just wanted to complain “at” someone.  And I was just about to split at the seams with answers to everything she came up with – if only I had a chance.

The kicker – and what finally ended the conversation – was when I got a word in and suggested that (as an alumni) she could reach out to the alumni office and suggest events that were encouraging a conservative viewpoint.  To be part of the solution, as it were.

She thanked me for my time and then ended the call – I wished her a nice day.  

The only good part about this was that she was deeply polite.  And I was very polite too. Excruciatingly polite.

It was a very polite conversation that only one of us wanted to have.  But still very polite.

I tried my best to represent my University as an open minded place of learning that contributes in a positive way to the community – teaching people how to think and not what to think.  And in that I think I succeeded – she did say she was reassured by my talk of the Bliss Institute for Applied Politics and believed me when I said that we do not censor events. And she was going to do some more searching that would hopefully have more meaningful results than just keynote speakers.    (What an odd datapoint that was…)

A polite conversation.  One alumni to another.  

I recently watched a hilarious send up of the classic Star Trek episode – “Spock’s Brain”.  In the episode, a stagnated alien culture run by a failing super-computer sends a temporarily intelligence-boosted young woman onto the Enterprise to steal a replacement brain to fix said computer – from Mr. Spock, of course.

She’s confronted, but by this point her intelligence boost has vastly worn off.  She angrily yells at the crew, “Brain! Brain! What is brain?”

It’s a terrible episode, but hilarious.  

It reminds me of my own brain problems – or rather, my car’s brain.

I was getting ready to go somewhere and noted the tire low air pressure light was on – but the normal warning screen wasn’t on the dash panel.  I did a quick check and noticed that the miles per gallon estimate and the fuel range were missing as well. And also, most importantly, the odometer. 

My car’s brain is kinda broke.

This happened once before and it took quite a bit of work to convince the dealership what was going on.  It finally got through to them when they tried to check the mileage. Yeah, that’s what’s broke, guys, that’s why I’m here.  They didn’t really fix it, but managed to “reboot” the car and get it working – though they warned that if it happened again, they would likely have to replace the panel at $400+

I dropped it off at the dealership tonight and as I was getting it checked in – to be worked on tomorrow – they again tried to get the mileage.  And I even told the guy that it was the odometer that was missing. Creatures of habit, I guess.

The service agent (or whatever his title is) took a look at the history and had good news for me.  Since I first had this problem, they’ve come out with a update/fix for the issue. Instead of a new part, it’s basically a firmware update that can be done along with the diagnostic fee. Still going to cost me a $100 for that – but better than $400.  And I don’t know the ramifications of driving without a working odometer – but I do know that I’d quickly lose track of when I need to get my oil changed.

So, hopefully, this will be the fix and I’ll be able to pick up my car tomorrow evening with an updated brain. 

Oh, and it case you were wondering, Dr. McCoy did eventually get his intelligence briefly boosted too and with Spock’s help – long story – they got Spock’s brain back in own head.  

A couple weeks ago, we got a special digest email at work. It talked about an “incident” that morning in the parking deck, that police and medical examiners were on scene, but no foul play was suspected.

And then it linked to student support services for help.

That was it.   No detail, no explanation.  

On our social media, there was a post about how “we’re family, if you need help, click here”

From that, I guessed it was something that had happened to a student.  And that it was bad.

I headed next to the local newspaper online where they reported a possible suicide at that location – and then those same links to student services.

So, there was my answer.  One of our students had taken their own life.

I’ve been at UA for over 20 years and when something like this happens, even if I don’t know the student, my heart breaks.   A couple years ago, a student accidentally killed another student – and one of my assistants at the time knew the people involved.    She was devastated and broke down in tears in my office when she tried to talk about it. 

College life is about a lot of things, including potential.  Students with big, world-changing ideas and plans. There’s a lot of hope there.

But for one of our own that day, there was only despair.

I sat there in my office for a few minutes, just thinking.  I set aside my emails and projects and… dwelled.

I work with the people that wrote UA’s response and I give them credit for the way they handled things with a mix of kindness and professional detachment.   We are a large organization with a lot of audiences and crafting the right message couldn’t have been easy.

And yet…

There was no mention of the word.  It was the “incident”. And there are a lot of reasons to avoid “the word”, but not saying it does, I think, a disservice to what this person went through.

Maybe we could have said the word.  Maybe acknowledging that a student had committed suicide could have opened up a dialog.  Could have brought people forward to get the help they need in a way that innocuous obfuscation and links couldn’t have.   And maybe helped us come together and mourn that loss of potential – and the life of our student and what they meant to the people around them.

So I sit here, an “armchair quarterback” with a cooling cup of tea on a fall day, glad I didn’t have to write those notes and also unfairly second-guessing the content.

I don’t know the student nor their friends, nor teachers, nor co-workers, nor family.  But my heart goes out to them and I share, in a small way, their loss.

I got my toilet all back together, but in messing with it I had inadvertently messed up a seal.  It was leaking water out of the tank and down the drain – but at least not onto the floor. I turned off the water and headed to the home improvement store – with a picture of the inside of the tank saved on my phone. Just in case.

I found the right type – or so I hoped – and the two seals that I might need.  Back home, I gave the instructions a quick read and realized this was going to be pretty easy.  Pulled the old seal out – realizing as I looked at it why it was bad (warped) and put the new one on.   Thunder(cat) was in the bathroom with me, putting his front paws up on the closed lid to get a better view.  I should have gotten him a tool-belt.

I turned the water back on and the tank began to fill – and then shut off automatically when the tank was full.  At least that adjustment had finally worked. I listened carefully but didn’t hear any leaks.  

Then, the final test.  I took a deep breath and then flushed my toilet.  And… success!

No leaks, the water shut off at the right level, and I was home free.  I put the lid back on the tank and went about my evening – feeling again like a successful home owner.  

Small triumphs.  

————————-

My feline is strictly an inside cat, but even with the limited territory he still manages to hide when he wants to.  I thought I’d found all his hiding spots, but lost track of him the other day. Not thinking much of it, I went to the basement to clean the litter box.  As expected, he appeared at the top of the steps to lord over me as the master of the house. 

The next evening, I headed up to the attic/third floor for some crafting supplies.  I keep the door to the third floor closed as well as the rooms up there to save on heating and cooling and I closed the doors behind me when I was done.  I ended up not working on the project since it was getting late and just decided to go to bed.  

When I got up in the morning, Thunder(cat) wasn’t hanging out in the hallway as he usually does.  I didn’t think much of it – figuring he was in his new hiding place – and went on into work.

I got home and he wasn’t at the door to greet me.  He also didn’t come when I called.

Now, one of our favorite things is when I let loose with a hearty “Thunder Cat, hoooooo!” and he then comes running. It’s pretty adorable. 

But, he didn’t come running.  I got worried and remembered that I hadn’t seen him that morning or the night before.  Was he hurt? Trapped? Trapped and hurt?

I looking started in the basement, under the shelves and behind the appliances. Then the first floor in the cabinets and windowsills.  Second floor, the bedrooms, under the bed, closets. Nothing.

Then, could he be…? I opened the door to the third floor and raced up the stairs.  I opened the door to the craft room and out came bounding my Thunder(cat).

I let out a deep sigh of relief and when I inhaled again I smelled cat pee.  I sniffed my way around the room and found it on the work chair.

And I wasn’t even a little mad – I would have peed on the chair too if I was shut up there. I got some cleaner and worked on the chair – with a happy cat trailing between my legs.  

All I can figure is that he must have slipped past me when I had my back turned and hid in the dark corner.  Since I didn’t hear or see him, I didn’t realize he’d followed me upstairs.

I felt terrible, but he was fine and not the least bit mad at me.  I’ve been keeping a closer eye on him and any trips behind closed require a feline inventory before I leave.

Cat: 1 unit.  Check.

My family still does Christmas lists and a couple years ago I was struggling to figure out what to put on mine.  I ended up adding a few silly items – included a Dual-Flush toilet replacement kit. When installed, you can lift the handle up for a 1/2 flush (using less water) or down for a full one.

Perhaps not surprisingly, my folks bought this for Christmas for me.  I was delighted and eager to give it a try, but when I opened up the box it seems way more complicated than the packaging suggested.

I set it aside for Another Day (™) and figured I’d get around to installing it eventually.

Fast forward to a few days ago when the upstairs toilet continued to run after flushing.   Ah, the perfect opportunity and no excuses – it was time to install the Dual-Flush replacement kit and save the damn planet.  One flush at a time.

I took off the lid of the tank with practiced ease and then turned off the water.  One good flush and I had a nearly empty tank. I skimmed the instructions to see what tools I needed and there were only two.

A sponge

And a pencil

Really?

The pencil was to mark the water line before draining the tank – so, I’d already screwed that up.  The sponge was to finish getting all the water out of the tank. So, I got a bucket and sponge and got the rest of the water out.  Then while it was drying, I read a little more about removing the old system.

It was basically everything except the flapper and so I set to work removing the various parts until I had damp pile of plastic pieces on the floor in no particular order.  I was going to throw these out, right?

Back to the directions and things got a little worrying.  There were a couple of pieces in the tank that were sealed in and not coming out without a fight – or being broken.  And the pictures of Steps 1 and 2 were not matching up.

I had myself a sit and studied this directions more carefully before I broke anything.  And, to my chagrin, there was a section neatly labeled “incompatible”. And one of those looked an awful lot like my tank set up.

I checked the parts and sure enough, the brand name matched with the “incompatible” label.

So, this new dual flush thing wasn’t going to work – and I had a floor covered in pieces of the old system.

This might be a good time to mention that I’m not a plumber.

Fortunately, I realized that there was only one of every piece and they could only go together in one way in the tank,  With a little trial and even less error, I got everything put back into place and turned the water back on. And then I flushed the toilet.

Everything worked – though it still kept running when it was done.  On the plus side, I had noted another way to adjust the float – so, I’ll get that worked out over time.

Just in case, I checked the downstairs toilet and it has the same setup. Not surprising.

The final verdict is that I’m no worse off than when I started.  

And for plumbing, that’s a win.

Last weekend was the pride celebration in Akron and… I wasn’t feeling it.  I’d had a difficult week at work and the thought of doing anything that meant interacting with other humans seemed like too much.

Last year, the threat of a protest against the celebration got me moving – but this time, there was no such target.  Right up until I left, I was on the fence about going.

But, I decided that sometimes it’s important to just show up.  To be counted. To be recognized as being part of something.

So, I put on some of my Zips gear – gotta represent – and some comfortable shoes, and headed to the parade/march.  I got there plenty early, found an out-of-the-way parking spot and then located a few people I know that were marching.   

I asked if I could join them and they were happy to have me.  I bought a couple of rainbow flags from a vendor – seemed the thing to do – and before long we were off and marching.  

Or rather, walking.  It was pretty low-key, but a nice day for a walk.  The route took us about a mile and a half down Market Street in Akron and stopped at the park where the festival was being held. We waved to people along the way and chatted amiably as we walked along.

When we got to the park, I left the group and made a couple rounds through the festival area.  I saw a couple of people I know and chatted for a bit, then got some lemonade and listened to the mayor make a speech.  I listened to the music for a bit and then…well… I’m like “now what?”

I did the thing and then I was sort done doing the thing.  

I didn’t want to wait for the trolley, so I just walked back along the parade route to my car and went home. 

And… I cheated myself out of the event, having managed to attend, but not really be there.  I should have hung around longer, listened to more of the music, found some booth with the people I wanted to interact with. Something. 

Jim and I went back when he got off of work, but by then they were closing up shop. 

I did it wrong.  I went to pride with a sort of event checklist and once that was done, I forgot to really enjoy myself. 

I’m glad I went and I’m glad I was in the parade and I’m glad – for what it was worth – that I was unofficially counted among those that attended.

But next year, I need to have a better plan and really try to be part of it.  Maybe it’s time to volunteer and give something back.

The University of Akron just got a new president last week – but I knew it was in the works well before that.  My boss asked for my help in setting up the folder on the website a few weeks ago and then he worked on the content.  It was all very cloak and dagger, hush-hush, top secret.

The day of the announcement, he asked me to move it from our DEV server to the main website.  I’ve done this kind of move before – it’s basically a complicated copy|paste operation – but we were on a deadline based on the board meeting and I had 1 hour to make the move. 

And wouldn’t you know it? The links to all the images broke.  I got the rest of the site moved over and then figured out the images – it was a bug in the system – and wrapped up my part with 5 minutes to spare.

Having skimmed the bio of the new president as I was working on the site, I’m cautiously optimistic.  There’s still a lot of pomp and circumstance at the moment – we’ll see how it goes once he settles into his new role.

One of my co-workers joined me – and the throng of people from across campus for the Meet-n-greet event with the President Elect and his wife.  The line was far too long when we got there, so we just said Hi to our VP, got some cookies, and left. We’ll meet the Pres later – he wouldn’t have remembered us anyway.  And the cookies were quite good.

—————–

Also last week, I got a visit from a Special Investigator.  I never quite figured out what branch of the government she was with, but she had an impressive badge and asked all kinds of intense questions. 

One of my former student assistants had gotten a job with the federal government a few years back and I had filled out some simple paperwork at the time as part of a background check.  This time, he was getting a new job with higher clearance and it required a more thorough background check and in-person visit.

I had all the paperwork ready when the special investigator arrived and we went through the standard employment questions – then went full dystopian.

“While he had been working for you, was this individual – to your knowledge – influenced by a foreign power?”

“Did they express any disloyalty to the United States?”

“Did they have any political connections to anyone in another country and were they in any financial situation influenced by a foreign power?”

And so forth.  It would have been a little absurd if it wasn’t so serious.  And there was nothing to tell – he worked for us less than a year, I would have hired him back, he was quiet and did a good job and showed up on time.

She thanked me for my time and asked to borrow our conference room so she could interview other campus folks – easier for them to meet her there rather than her get lost on campus.   I was fine with that – we rarely use our conference room anyway – and when her interviewees came in I directed them back.

When she was done, she thanked me again – I think I had saved her quite a bit of time and hassle.  She was then on her way and I’m hoping that I helped our former student get a new, better, and more important job.  Whatever that ended up being – I still don’t know.

——————

 Saturday was the first of the move-in days for campus – a little early to accommodate construction. 

I didn’t have anything planned for the day so I volunteered to help with the student’s move in – as part of a team of faculty and staff volunteers. 

The plan was to meet the students and their families at their cars at the unloading zone and pack up a bunch of shopping carts with all their stuff.  After we found out their rooms, the students were directed to go on ahead while we wheeled the carts into the building and the line for the elevators.  Three carts to an elevator, then down the hall to the room. From there, we unloaded the cart, wished the student a good semester, then sent the carts (in bulk) back down the elevator while we took the stairs.

Finally, we met the carts at the ground floor and took them back out to the unloading zone. 

And over and over again.

I got there a little early for my shift and left a little late – ended up spending nearly 5 hours there.    I helped a lot of families and they really appreciated it – and I got to hang out with some cool co-workers.

I was really tired and a little dehydrated when I was done.  And my calves hurt that night from running the stairs. But, I found out that over the course of the day we helped 243 people move into the dorm.  

Pretty amazing.

The move in continues through this week and classes start on Monday.  And I got to help a few students settle into their home away from home.  Not a bad way to start a semester.

It’s been an intensely busy week for me at work and my evenings have been full as well.  But it’s all good – I’m getting a lot done and not getting overwhelmed. And I deeply enjoy getting things done.

I’ve been fixing web pages left and right and managing projects like I was born to it.  I’ve dealt with complex personnel issues with grace and compassion, taught people all kinds of new things about systems, and fixed deeply technical problems like the geek that I am. I’ve been kind and helpful, created some art I was proud of, and still had time for video games.  

It occurred to me yesterday, as I was walking back to my office with a well deserved candy bar from the vending machine, that it would be nice if I could save this version of me.

‘Cause I know it won’t last.  My confidence will falter and my patience will slip.  I’ll lose that groove that has kept everything going smoothly and I’ll miss something important or just wear down.

Wouldn’t it be nice if I could just pull my back-up when that happens?  As Fiona Apple would say:

“Here it comes, a better version of me”

One quick “load from save” and I’m back on top – saving the day and making things go right. 

I kinda like this version I’ve got right now.  He’s just…more present than I’m used to being.

There are more challenges ahead of me tomorrow and things won’t really slow down until well after the semester starts at the end of the month. 

For now, I’ll just keep doing what I’m doing and try to hold onto this version as long as I can.

A while back, I moved my origami projects from my own personal site to Tumblr – figuring this would be a good platform to host my artwork and would save me some time in formatting.

A tumblr site is a bit like a blog, but very focused on photos.  A site owner can post their own content – as I do – or they can repost other people’s content.  Over time, this can lead to sort of “curated” sites focusing on a topic. It might be cute pictures of dogs, architecture, classical art, politics, knitting – anything, really.  Those reposts connect sites and you could find many different sites that related to whatever topic or interest you had.

And because anything goes, some sites focused on adult content.

Which, of course, I know nothing about.  Ahem.

Tumblr got bought out and the new owners decided that this platform would no longer host adult content.  How they defined that has been widely reviled as sexist, racist, and generally bad for the LGBTQ community.  You can look up “female presenting nipples tumblr” to see some of that critique of the new rules.

I figured that, with a site full of original paper artwork, this would pretty much pass me by.  I didn’t like the rule change, but what’s inappropriate about origami?

Turns out the automated process that flags these posts didn’t like one of mine.

Here it is:

https://www.tumblr.com/thunderofwade/159235557419/collaboration-origami-butterflies-from-book

I had signed in to show someone a project I had posted and got a note that this post had been flagged as having adult content and was now hidden. 

There was an option to appeal and I clicked the link to have a human review it.  A few hours later I got an email that it had been reviewed, approved, and un-hidden.  With a thank you that this process helps keep the site “safer”.

If their automated process is that bad, if it can see a photo of origami butterflies and decide this is adult content – what else is it getting wrong?  And how is this keeping anyone safe?

There is a lot of darkness in people and a lot of that ends up on the internet.  And censoring that can walk a fine line. Images of people hurting other people or animals, yeah, that’s an easy one to censor.   Pretty clearly wrong and illegal. But human sexuality? Human nudity? That’s trickier.  

What is appropriate?   What do we, as a civilization or culture, define as taboo?  Who makes those rules? And as we add more machine intelligence to the picture, how do we teach machines the rules that we humans struggle to define?  The human form is amazing and beautiful and somehow, also, inappropriate. At least on the internet.

Tumblr hasn’t figured it out yet.  And I’ll need to keep a closer eye to see what they flag next. 

For now, though, enjoy the hand-painted paper butterflies.

Last Friday, Jim and I loaded up his car for a trip to West Virginia.  There was a surprise birthday party planned for his aunt on Saturday and we planned to spend the night at a hotel beforehand.

We got a little later start than we wanted and were doing okay until we came upon the exit that we would have normally taken to go to his mom’s house.  It was too much and too soon and we pulled over to take a minute – and I took over driving. We debated on just calling it and canceling the trip, but stuck it out and eventually stopped for dinner at Cracker Barrel.  

Jim took over driving again and decided to take “the back roads” the rest of the way.  Now, the back road in WV are not like the back roads elsewhere. There were hairpin turns in the dark, washed out roads, and dozens of deer.  Along with a fox, an opossum, a fox, several feral cats – and Jim thinks he saw a bear.

We made it to the hotel, got checked in, and crashed.  

The next morning was a crowded breakfast and more back roads to finally locate the party location.  And somehow, in the age of phones and Facebook, they managed to surprise Jim’s aunt. Once she realized what was going on – and who we all were – she started crying in joy and surprise.  She spent the rest of the party on Cloud 9 and I think everyone had a good time. I made her some origami earrings and Jim painted some paper butterflies for her – which she loved.

It was a good party and I spent the clean-up time afterwards entertaining the kids with some high-speed paper folding.  We all have our roles.

Then it was time for the 4 hour drive back.  And while I’m glad we went and we had a good time, it was still rough on Jim.  His mom should have been there too and she would have loved it.  

We got home safely and later that evening I went on Facebook for a minute  – and saw a post from Jeff’s brother the day before. Just a small note about how it would have been Jeff’s birthday.

And I had…forgotten.  I’ve never been good at remembering birthdays – even sometimes my own – and when Jeff was alive, I would remember the general time period and have to carefully figure out the date from clues every year. 

But I’d forgotten entirely this time.  The date of his death? That I remember. But not his birthday.

I felt terrible about that for a while and tried to figure out some way to respond to the post without sounding like an asshole or idiot – and couldn’t come up with anything.  So, I let that post go past – as I’d let his birthday go past.

There’s nothing to be done about that.  No way to undo any of that – time is closed off behind us. And I have a package of regrets – comfortable in their own persistence  – that will linger.

Nothing to be done, but… I had forgotten.