Author: anthony Page 19 of 72

When I was a kid, my parents got me a book on calligraphy and my sister a book on origami.  We swapped and she has beautiful handwriting – and I can fold paper.

My own handwriting, though, is pretty terrible.  I’m glad I can type or I’d be in a lot of trouble.  My handwriting – even printing – is tough even for me to read most of the time.  And if I’m in a hurry, well, I might as well not even try.

So, I’ve decided to do something about it.

I bought a “Homework Helper” Handwriting Practice Workbook – Grade 1.  It has tear-out pages and careful instructions on the printed letters – one letter per page – with both capital and lowercase examples.  

I sharpened a number 2 pencil and set to work.  So far, I’ve gotten through  “J” and I’ve learned a couple things.

1. I grip a pencil too tightly.  
2. I disagree with their instructions for an  “e” and the  “I”.  I’m fine with the “o”.
3. I just need to slow down.

And, really, that’s the key.  I just get going too fast and my poor hands can’t hope to keep up with my brain.  Slow down the brain, slow down the hands – and the writing improves.

I plan on finishing out the lessons and the bonus sentences at the back.  It’s a little silly, but there’s something to be said about going back to basics.  Even if that means first grade.

—————-

There’s a book I’ve read – maybe 20-30 times – called “Snow Crash” by Neal Stephenson.  It’s one of the best books I’ve ever read and for a while it was my “lunchtime” reading.  I’d read while I was eating and if I finished the book before I was done eating, well, I’d just start the book over.  It’s that good.

So, I heard about some folks recently who only read books once.   One filled up and then essentially abandoned a Nook and the other would read (and dog-ear – shudder) paperback books while traveling and then just leave them behind when done.

Wait, what?

I was, well, flummoxed.   How is that even possible?  Now, that’s not to say that I haven’t read any books only once.  Some of them are pretty terrible and I make it a point to finish them and then see to it that they get put back in the system – either donated or sold – so that someone else can give them a try.  But that’s the exception.  

Which is why one room in my house is a library.  

There have been books where I settle into a second reading like a snuggie.  It’s warm and inviting and it fits me just fine.  The characters are old friends of mine and their adventures as familiar as my drive to visit my folks.  

Some books unveil hidden depths on a second or third reading.  Nuance that I missed the first time around is suddenly clear and intricate.

And some series beg – no, demand – to be read from the start each time a new book comes out.  Less a series than one really big amazing book.

To read just once?  Flummoxed, I tell you.  

Flummoxed.

I also know a couple people that don’t like to read at all.  We’re still friends, somehow, but I’ve considered “force-reading” them.

Flumm. Oxed.

Not long after my recent blood donation, I got another email from the Red Cross.  I almost deleted it thinking it was another “come give blood” message that hadn’t caught up – but opened it and realized it was a thank you.

And a reward!

The message thanked me for my recent donation and gave me a link where I could get a free gift certificate.  The text read:

“To patients across the country, your generous donation means the world. You deserve a reward. But in case you don't want to claim your gift, you can always donate it back to the Red Cross and do even more to help those in need.”

Then two buttons – Return gift  or Claim gift  – and the text:

“Contributing gifts back to the Red Cross further supports our lifesaving mission.”

I can’t tell what the gift certificates might include or what the amount is until I claim the gift. So, the dilemma:

1. Do I claim the certificate, knowing that I might not even use it and let it go to waste.  Or:
2. Do I donate it back?

I may be reading more into this, but I think I smell a guilt trip.  “You could take this gift certificate if you’re, you know, a total selfish asshole and hate your fellow man.  Or, you could donate that right back and we could do something noble with it like – I don’t know, save lives or something?”

My first thought was, “well, I’ve donated gallons of blood and if they want to reward me, great!”

But then, I remember being at a blood drive at a Best Buy where they donated 5 dollar gift cards for donating blood. A woman came in and they asked if she would do a double red.  She asked in return if she would get two gift cards.  A little taken aback, they said no, she would only get one.  She then decided to just do a regular single donation.

I remember being angry at her for basing her donation on the reward.  As though it had cheapened the experience for all of the donors there and made less about doing good and more about “gettin’ paid”.

So, if there’s a chance to do a little bit more good related to my blood donation, I kinda feel like I should do that.  I’m not excited about how they presented it, but I did some good and got a good story out of the experience and that counts for quite a bit with me.

Sight unseen, I’m returning the gift.  And come October, I’ll be back to donate again.

And I’m going to eat 2 packages of cookies along with my orange juice.

This is intensely nerdy, but I’ll try to translate.

A few days ago, I got asked to update a link on one of our pages for the new graduate course bulletin. The link was on a code-heavy page in two parts that listed the details of our graduate programs.  The page changes depending on what link the user clicks on the page before.

The change was easy – I’m all about updating links – but something went wrong. The link fixed easy and the re-publish of the page was smooth – though the system insisted that I re-publish the other section on the page even though I hadn’t touched it.

And then it broke.  Instead of the information about the page, it was a mess of code dumped out on the page.  

We had a problem.

I tried to revert the stuff I had changed and the link went back – but it was still broke.

So, we tried to look at the same page in our test (DEV) environment.  And the page – both parts – was exactly the same as Production.  Except, it worked.

It was like  1 + 1 = pickle.   Everything was the same, except one worked and one didn’t.

The whole team got in on this and we brainstormed so hard there were clouds in my office.

The users were starting to call about the broken-ness and our support with the vendor was going nowhere.  And then I had a thought.

I dug into the history of the part of the page I hadn’t touched – but the system had insisted I republish too – and found the problem.

My former co-worker had last worked on this years ago and his entry was in the system as an editor.  However, after that was an entry from a prior student assistant that had worked for us.  He had looked at the page, switched modes from code to WYSIWYG (what you see is what you get.  Yes, that’s what it stands for), which broke the page.

But, he didn’t publish it so it never went live.  And no one else worked on that page.  And so we sat on a freaking time bomb that lasted right up until I re-published that page and broke everything.  And that was after a clone of the entire system and database and at least 2 upgrades

Dammit, Joey!  🙂

And all the code looked the same between instances since it was really broken.  Just, waiting.

I broke this the rest of the way in DEV as a test, then reverted it back to the last good version.  The page broke as we expected and then came right back.  I did the same thing in Production and then rang the Victory Bell (™) like a boss cause it was all good. 

It was exactly what Batman would have done.  Or, maybe, Oracle. 

The Red Cross has been hounding me for a bit to give blood again.  I hadn’t gone for a while and so the phone calls began to increase in frequency as the emails became more strident.

So, I fought with the app for a bit to schedule an appointment and then gave up and called.  And had to talk to a person.  Like some kind of damn Luddite.  Sigh.

I was glad I had the appointment, though, since the donation center was standing room only.  Well, the waiting area, anyway.  They did let you recline for the actual donation.

I had done the prescreening online and the blood pressure check and iron check when smoothly. They sent me over to the Double Red machine – or Power Red, as they are now calling it – and I got settled in.

And then… I dunno what it was, but I got crazy apprehensive.  Like, fight or flight apprehensive.  Which is weird – I’ve give blood so many times it’s best measured in gallons.  I’m not scared of needles and I know the procedure and what to expect.  But, still, I wanted out of there.  

I took some deep breathes and texted Jim for support and then it was time for the needle stick. I looked away and felt the “pinch”.  

(It’s not a pinch, dammit, and I wish they would quit calling it that.)

And then we were off.  Squeeze every 5 seconds, eat some tums when the saline and plasma came back, and pretty soon I was done and off to get some cookies.

And I was fine.  I don’t know what set me off – might have been the too loud and frankly terrible music – but I was all fired up for nothing.  

I stopped to get a “second dinner” and then I was home.  No biggie.

So, if you can, you should go give blood.  Doesn’t take long, you get cookies and juice when you’re done, and it saves people’s lives.  

Straight up super hero.  

I had plans to give blood last week and since that puts me out of commission for a bit for swimming, I decided to do a mile the day before.

I hit the pool after work and set a pretty good pace.  I kept track of my laps and sort of kept track of the time – though I had allocated plenty and was more concerned with distance than the time.

When I finished up I noted the time and made an educated guess on when I started.  If I was right in how long it took me to get changed into my trunks, I had done a mile in 42-43 minutes.

Which is not too shabby for me.  The last time I had really paid attention I had done the mile in about an hour.   Without really being focused on it, I’d managed to cut a huge chunk of time off my swim.

But it was an estimate and I could have been way off.  I do change my clothes pretty fast, after all.

So, today I was back at the pool and decided to intentionally – instead of incidentally – haul some speedo-ed ass.

The pool was set to the short lanes and that’s always a little easier.  I planned on short breaks at ⅓ and ⅔ of a mile and took off.  I kept track of the laps in my head.  .5 to the end, 1 when I got back.  1.5, then 2.  2.5, then 3.    Breathe and quick goggle rinse at 12.  Repeat.  

I started at 4:19 and was done at 4:57 ….  38 minutes.   A new personal best.  

If I can cut my breaks down a bit, I could shave even more time off.  

And I’ve got a goal.  30 minutes.    At that pace, I would be swimming at 2 miles an hour.  And that, friends, would be awesome.

I bought a pair of swim paddles online and when they came in I was super stoked to try them in the pool.  I imagined tearing through the water and creating a wake behind me. I figured I’d be tired and sore afterwards, but it would be worth it to master the water.

But, they didn’t work.  

If I had them tightened enough so they weren’t loose on my hands, the bands dug into my fingers painfully.  Too loose, and they would slap back against my hand with each stroke.

And instead of pulling me through the water, each stroke was a fight.  I would get the barest increase in power every so often, but I was mostly flailing about as I made my way down the lane.

I tried a couple laps, but was so uncomfortable with the paddles that I gave up on them and left then on the side of the pool for the rest of my swim.

They had promised to retain a feel for the water with their design, but instead I realized that I could really feel the water without them.  And had been all along without realizing what that meant.

It’s kind of a strange sensation  – to get a grip on a liquid and use it to pull forward like climbing the rung of a horizontal ladder.  And then finding that sweet spot where all the effort slides away and I slip between the molecules of the water like I was born to it.

I’ll keep after the paddles and eventually learn how to use them, but in the meantime, I can feel the water.  And I’ve mastered it as much as I’m able.

——————

Jim and I went out to dinner with a couple of our friends last evening.  We had brick oven pizza in a tiny, tiny restaurant and enjoyed an easy and fun conversation.

After dinner, we headed to a bar called the Hopping Frog to see a band called Shooter Sharp and the Sharpshooters – who played an old-school version of country music.  

…

Now, I was clearly out of my element.  I don’t drink, I’m not a fan of crowds, and well… I’m not a fan of country music.  There are a few artists that have a very few songs that have a sort of pop/country sound that I like, but this did not fit into that very narrow window.

The performers were all very technically talented and seemed to be really enjoying themselves.  But the acoustics weren’t great and I couldn’t make out what they were singing most of the time – though I did catch the title of one song was “You finally said something good when you said goodbye”

So, yeah.

I sipped my ginger ale and settled in – insisting that I was fine to my friends.  And I was.  The music wasn’t my cup of tea, but I was fine with that.   The company was excellent and the contents of my head are usually more interesting that reality anyway.

I counted the number of acoustic tiles on the walls of the bar (21), planned an escape in case there was a riot (I always do this when I go someplace new.  a). Only one exit visible, but we were seated near it.  b). Improvised weapons – broken bottle of ginger ale or mic stand/signpost.), and tried to visualize a 4 dimensional object (I couldn’t).

And I had fun.  Of sorts.  Though I apparently had some odd expressions on my face at times.  When the band took a break I joking said aloud, “Computer: End Program” in case it was a simulation.

It wasn’t.

I’m not likely to make that venue a regular occurrence for me and I didn’t buy the Shooter Sharp and the Sharpshooters CD – though that was an option – but I was fine.  

Really.  🙂

It turns out, I have an upper limit on the amount of bread I can eat in one sitting.  We were at Panera bread and I got the chicken soup in a bread bowl.  With a side of bread. I ate the soup, the bread bowl lid, the side of bread, and then the entire bowl of bread.  

It was delicious, but as we continued our errands, I started to feel… breaded out.  Jim was suddenly walking much faster than I was and I had to ask him to slow down a bit – and reminded him that I’d eaten a pound of bread.

Fortunately, there were no long term side effects of the bread-near-OD – which in a way is almost too bad, since I’ve clearly not learned any lessons.

By contrast, a recent trip to Subway had a group that approached the counter after us order a sub with no bread.

The sandwich artists had a tough time with that one and had to puzzle it out a little before deciding that it was essentially a salad. Also in that group was someone who wanted no meat on their sub – and a third that wanted everything but mushrooms.

I looked down at my sub of bread, meat, and mushrooms and considered.  I get that some people have food allergies or vegetarian inclinations – but out of all the restaurants in the area, why would that group have gone to subway?

And people call me weird.

—————————————

It’s been a week of mixed emotions at work.

I found out that one of my colleagues in another office passed away after a long battle with cancer.  She was 52.

I don’t think I got the full story on why, but someone brought around a Wonder Woman cape that we could sign for the family.  I’m guessing she was a fan and I think she may have had it on order, but that it didn’t come in until after she’d passed.  I made it a point to take a few minutes and sign the cape – and I got some cards for other colleagues that had worked closely with her.  The signature was easy – I do know my own name – but coming up with the right words for my friends was much more difficult.  I wrote out what I wanted to say on paper several times to try and figure out exactly what I wanted to say.

Some magic words to make it better and easier.

I finally realized there were no such perfect words to be had and just tried my best.  I’m thinking about their whole department this week and my heart goes out to them all.

I also found out that one of my co-workers is resigning.  He’s got a great job offer ahead of him and on the one hand – I’m happy for him.  He’s going to be making more money at a well established company and that’s going to be good for his career and his family.  On the other, I’m sad because he’s my friend and I like working with him and I’m going to miss him.

On, I guess a third hand, I’m a little cranky at the timing.  School starts in a few weeks, we’ve got some huge projects that have to launch before that, and the stress levels are starting to go up.  I think he’ll have time to get those wrapped up before he leaves and it’s not his fault that it’s now – but the timing still bites.  We’ll get through it, but it’s going to be rough on the webteam for a while.

————————————-

I hit the pool after work and got in a fast ⅔ of a mile. I think I may be back to my prior speed and though I had a lap with a twinge in my arm, I picked up the pace and really tore through the water.

I got out of the pool and headed to the locker room – and saw (in my non-glasses-wearing blurry way) that there was a guy standing at the lockers opposite mine.  I said hello and he did too as I started to work on my combination lock.  He rightly guessed that I wasn’t a student (duh) and I turned to shake his hand and introduce myself.  I knew who he was – the VP for Finance at the University – and though he had no idea who I was, we’d actually met several times before.

Including a couple times in that very locker room – in that same aisle of lockers.

Which is not really surprising since it’s common to choose the same locker if you are a regular at a gym.  Nor was it odd that he didn’t remember me – I have adopted a process of “quietly awesome” over the years at work – and fly below the VP radar where I can.

We talked for a little bit about workout schedules and the nice facilities, and by an odd coincidence we both ended up completely naked at the same time – me transitioning from speedo to my work clothes and him heading the other direction as he got ready for his work out.

It could have been more awkward, but we were both doing the standard “I’m very focused on what I’m doing here and not acknowledging anyone else directly at this stage”.  

In a few minutes I was dried off and dressed and he was in his gear.  I wished him a good workout and we both exited in opposite directions.

As I headed to my car with my gear bag over my shoulder, I wondered if he’ll remember me the next time I have a meeting with him.  Will he ask where we’ve met?

“Yeah,” I’ll reply.  “ONAT locker room.  I was the one rocking a blue speedo”

Or perhaps not.

I got a fortune cookie with dinner last night that read “You will receive some high prize or award soon.”

Today… was not that day.

Unless you count something going wrong with literally everything I did at work.  Which… I don’t.

Nothing major, mind you.  Just a steady stream of annoyances.  Every single thing I touched went slightly to moderately wrong all day.

At one point, I was trying to schedule a meeting that I didn’t really want any part of  – but felt obligated anyway.  They asked when I would be available and I responded “Friday afternoon”.  

“Great!” they replied, “We’ll see you at 11 on Friday!”

Now, in what universe is 11 am “the afternoon”?  Since it’s before 12 pm, it’s literally impossible for that to be “after noon”.

Finally, as the day was winding up, I got contacted by a student who wanted help backing up their data.  And the only time they had to do it was right then – at 3 pm.  My day is usually done at 4, but I figured that we could wrap this up pretty quickly.  I was annoyed since I’d already given her detailed written instructions, but, well, sigh.

At 3:30, I got a call from the computer center saying that my appointment was there.  And that’s great, except I don’t work in that building.  So, I had them direct her across campus while I worked on a tedious project and settled into my pissy mood like I was wrapping myself up in a snuggie – assuming that I’d be there late.

The student arrived a few minutes later and we set to work.  She appreciated my help and I glanced at the dissertation files as we packaged them up.  Her dissertation was title:

“Hope and Suicide”

And things changed.  

This wasn’t just a student that needed some technology hand-holding, this was a future doctor that was committed to helping people.  And this wasn’t just some data, it was a story about people’s lives.

We got everything backed up and saved in multiple formats.  And I’m pretty sure she was about to hug me when she realized that might be unprofessional – and then settled for an enthusiastic handshake.

It was 4:01 when I grabbed my swim gear and headed out the door.  I stopped on the way to my car to look over at the bridge where I had helped stop a guy from committing suicide back in October.  Just under the bridge is part of the towpath trail and some artists have painted a mural on the side of the bridge.  It reads:

“Imagine you wake up with a second chance:”

It’s been up there for a few weeks and I’ve noted the coincidence, but never more strongly than today.

I had a good swim, read a book when I got home and had some dinner.  Dishes washed, lawn mowed and now, blog updated.

Despite the thousand paper-cuts of annoyance, it turned out to be a good day after all.

This is going to be pretty random… sorry.

1.  A typical conversation with Jim and I..

Jim: I need to work on a project for class using oil pastels.
Me: Didn’t he invent penicillin?
Jim: What?
Me: Oh, I’m thinking of Louis Pasteur
Jim: [rolls his eyes]

Except, Pasteur is famous for vaccines and pasteurization (duh) – Alexander Fleming discovered (not invented) penicillin.  

Sigh.  Complete misfire.

Also, a couple days later, I mentioned to Jim that a song on the radio sounded like Andy Grammer.  He replied, “Wasn’t he from Mayberry?”   I sighed.  “You’re thinking of Andy Griffin.”

So, turnabout, I guess.

In the car a couple days ago, a song came on that had a great sound.  We were both jamming to it and Jim started singing, “Working on my website Working my website Working on my website”.  When I questioned him about it, he said that’s what it sounded like to him.

You be the judge:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MArUWLN-kqs

It’s official.  He’s now sillier than when I first met him.  I blame me, obviously.

————————————————

2. I had a dream the other night that I was desperately trying to turn on the subtitles for the DVD of season 1 of the original Full House.  When I woke up, I was still in a panic about it and was mentally going through the menu again to try and figure out what I’d missed.  It wasn’t until I rolled out of bed that I was able to claw my way back to reality.

Sigh, again.

————————————————-

3. This past weekend was an almost-pizza grilled cheese sandwich (with tater tots) at Lockview, a scoop of Blimpberry ice cream at Chill, and then ballet in the park.

Aaaaaaaand, I didn’t get it.  The first two acts were classical ballet, the third was more contemporary dance, and the final was 8 mini-acts of 1940’s dance.

The performers were all very talented, graceful, and athletic.  The costumes and the lighting were well done.  And no one could argue that it wasn’t sophisticated art – and that we were lucky to have a free show in the park.

And I tried.  I really really tried to enjoy it.  I paid attention, didn’t fold paper, and didn’t look at my phone.  But I got bored.  The dance was repetitive and I didn’t like the music. There were a few minutes total of the contemporary that I liked and I thought the shirts were cool, but I was otherwise bored for 2 hours.

I feel kinda bad about this – everyone involved put so much work into it.  And I would have rather been reading a book or playing a video game.

Sigh, the third.

——————————————–

4. Every so often I get a little…well… nihilistic.  It doesn’t happen very often fortunately and this time was nerdier than usual.  (At the atomic level the fundamental elements of the universe don’t give a shit.  About anything. And who are we to question atoms?)

So, yeah.

The best fix for me is to take myself for a walk.  Getting back into the world – and not in my head – usually settles me down in short order.

Last night, things must have been a little more entrenched than usual since it took me 7 miles over the course of 2 hours to get back to my version of normal.

I hadn’t intended to go that far, but I felt physically okay at each chance to shorten my route.  And then when I was really tired, well, I was so far away that even a direct route was a long way from home.

I had lost the light by the time I reached my street, but got home safe and sound – even with Firestone Park’s notorious vampire problem.  I was okay except for some…well…chafing.  I hadn’t rinsed off from the pool after work and the chlorine  + sweat + boxers = well… I was walking a little funny the last few blocks.

And that’s kind of it for now.

I wrote a letter to the director for the Student Recreation and Wellness Services at The University of Akron:

John,

Haven’t talked to you in a bit – hope your summer has been going well.

I’ve been trying to get back into a regular habit of swimming in the ONAT pool in the afternoons and I thought I’d share some questions/observations.

1. Is the water always so…wet?  It’s been awhile since I’ve been a regular swimmer and I don’t recall…well, I’m just soaked as soon as I hit the water.  Right to the skin – even my trunks are drenched.  I’m able to dry off pretty quickly when I get out of the pool, but it still catches me off guard when I first jump in.   If this is the way it goes, I can get used to it.  But, maybe you could put up some signs?  Like, “Caution, water in the pool is extremely wet”  Just a thought.

2. Is the length of the ONAT pool still regulation?  The few times I’ve been in the pool I’m pretty sure the deep end is somewhere in Barberton.  I mean, there’s no “welcome to Barberton” sign, but I think I smelled broasted chicken down there.  I didn’t eat any because, you know, fitness, but wow – that deep end is really far away.     Could you get a student assistant or a lifeguard out there with a yardstick and check out the distance?    Also, swimming back from the deep end to the shallow is a lot of work – going uphill, you know – and if you ever get the budget to level out the pool I’d be happy to help with the project.
3.  That whole, “you have to wear a swimming suit” rule – how important is that?  I ask because, if we can’t do anything about the dampness of the water (see 1 above), it would be a huge time-saver to not have to dry out my trunks.  I’m usually rocking a square-cut speedo – in UA Blue, naturally – and while that dries out pretty quickly, being able to skip it would save some time.  Plus, wear and tear on the swimsuit dryer in the locker rooms.    Is that a policy you’d be able to change yourself or would we need to take that to the board of trustees?

No concerns about the facilities (always clean and well maintained), or the staff (always friendly and helpful) – but if you could look into the above items and let me know, I’d appreciate it.   

Thanks,
Anthony Serpette
Assistant Director, Web Services

His response:

Hi Anthony,

It’s great to hear from you, welcome back!  Congratulations on realizing some of the recent changes we have made in the ONAT pool.

1)      We have increased the water wetting properties determined by a force balance between adhesive and cohesive forces over the skin so the water is wetter now J.  I like the sign idea and should talk to communications and marketing on that.

2)      The pool length does extend into Barberton as an approach to attract more Barberton students to UA and provide a unique way to travel to campus as well as get their work out in.  Next time you’re in at lunch can you stop by the broasted chicken place and get some take out?  I have been craving the chicken and I am a terrible swimmer, I also can’t stand that uphill swim from the deep end.

3)      Unfortunately I think it might be a challenge on the whole swim wear request.  Keep on rockin the UA speedo!

Thanks for the laugh, it totally made my day and came at a perfect time.  I look forward to seeing you the next time you’re in.  Have a great weekend.

John MacDonald
Director
Student Recreation & Wellness Services