Author: anthony Page 4 of 72

There’s a crack in our bathtub.  Not a major one, but better to get it fixed now before it gets worse.  I did a little research and found a kit that contains all the materials needed to repair this and, thus armed, I headed to Lowe’s to make my purchase and start my next home repair project. 

I found the plumbing section and the kits easily enough, but paused as I pulled the kit I needed from the shelf.  The one in “white” – that would match the color of our tub – was $45.48    The exact same kit in “bone” was $29.98

A difference of $15.50 based – as far as I could tell – only on the color. 

With a wrinkled brow, I took both packages to the front of the store and had them check the price to see if the signs were an error.  The clerk was a little confused since it looked like the same thing, but confirmed the difference.    They didn’t offer to do anything about it so I took the cheaper one back and headed to the checkout – confused and cranky.

When I got home, I decided to investigate on my own.  I looked up the manufacturer, found their website, found the contact form, and sent them a note.   I asked if this price difference was something that they had set (via an MSRP) or if this was something that Lowe’s did.  This was a Sunday afternoon and I put the project on hold – figuring I might hear back later in the week.

Instead, I got a text message and then a phone call in less than 20 minutes – from the owner of the business.

He confirmed that this is something that Lowe’s had done and he had been trying to get this adjusted.  He then explained that Home Deport sells the kit – but only in “white” and had increased the price.  Lowe’s followed suite and did the same – but since Home Depot only sells the “white” kit, the Lowe’s price on “bone” remained the same.  

We were both frustrated by this and I told him that I would reach out to Lowe’s to see if they could help resolve this.  I thanked him for contacting me so quickly, especially on a Sunday.

I next headed to the Lowe’s website and confirmed the prices there – it wasn’t just this one store.   I assumed that this wouldn’t be something the store or a frontline support person could resolve on the phone and went looking for an email.

But there wasn’t one on the site.

So, I fired up the chat and asked for an email address.  The Bot couldn’t help and handed me off – to someone in Sales.  They also couldn’t help and handed me off to Customer support.  They finally returned an email address and handed me off to a survey – which stalled out. 

I fired up my gmail and drafted a note explaining what was going on with all the prices, what the manufacturer had said, and my concern that I was being gouged for having a white bathtub.

I got a note back within an hour  – an automated message that noted they were reviewing my email.  The message also stated that not all emails will get a reply – and to not send repeated inquiries.  

So, they might not respond and I shouldn’t pester them if they don’t.

Mmmmm-hmph.

A few days later I did get a response, noting that they do price items differently based on the color and that they do adjust prices based on the competitors.   And while there was nothing they could do about that, I was encouraged to contact the manager at the store.

Almost immediately, they also sent me a survey – and when I didn’t respond right away, three follow up reminders. 

Jim found the same kit – in “white” – at Menards and so I returned the one I had to Lowe’s.  I’ll make a trip to the land of “saving big money” soon to re-buy the kit I need in the color I need.  For quite a bit less than the cheaper color at Lowe’s.

So that was that.   Faceless corporate drones and pricing algorithms – such is the consumer experience. 

EDIT:

The kit didn’t work – even after two attempts.

I’m usually home from work before Jim is, so when his car pulls in the driveway I’ll gently wake the dogs from their naps and we’ll meet him at the door. 

The dogs get greeted first, as it should be, and then Jim will set down his bag and coat and give me a hug.

I’ll say to him,

“Hello, husband, I’m glad you’re home,”

He’ll respond with,

“Hello, husband, I’m glad to be home,”

We don’t have to call each other husband.  It could just be Jim and Anthony.  But, it’s something we’ve done since we got married.  Just a quiet and small reminder – an affirmation, maybe – of that commitment. 

And then we’ll end the hug and decide on dinner and talk about our day and all the other things that come with having a life that is shared.

On days when I go into the office, I’m usually pressed for time at lunch to get home, feed the dogs, feed myself, and get back to the office. 

A stop at McDonald’s on the way can either make this much easier or – if they are having an off day – make me hopelessly late.

Last week, I stopped on my way and decided to go in instead of going through the drive through.   I ordered at the kiosk like a boss, then waited patiently, quietly, and alertly for my order – with the order number on the receipt extended out of my shirt pocket.  

If you’re going to be just a number, at least be clear about it. 

The crew was harried, as usual – even though this was just the start of the lunch rush.  When my order was up, the woman behind the counter handed me the bag and then reached back to get me my drink cup.

“Here’s your cup, beautiful,” she said and I thanked her – then she hurried off to help the next customer. 

I was dressed for work with my head neatly shaved and my beard neatly trimmed and while she might say that to everyone, I felt pretty special.  And maybe a little beautiful.

Later that week, I was in the checkout line at a store – being quiet, polite, and alert as I usually am – and again dressed professionally for work since I’d just come from the office.  As I finished the transaction, the casher said,

“Have a good day, darling,”

And maybe she says that to everyone, but it was still nice to hear.

It was a Saturday morning and I was out in the front yard with a leaf sweeper.  There weren’t a lot of leaves but too many to rake and I was making my way up and down the yard at a steady pace.  

Near one of the large trees in the yard, I stopped.  There was a smell and it was horrible.

As protocol dictates, I checked my shoes.  Nothing there, but there was…something.

I moved the leaf sweeper back the way I had come and started looking around on the ground – assuming it was some kind of poop, though it didn’t really smell like that.

Instead, I found something horrible.  

It was roughly spherical and about the size of a golf ball.  Clearly organic, it was a solid mass – mostly tan in color with some light purple and patches that looked like fat that were nearly white.

A tiny part of me was curious.  What was this?  How long had it been there?  What animal had it come from?  And what was inside?

But the rest of me – that has seen too many movies that start just like this – knew that even if this wasn’t an evil fleshy mass holding an alien parasite ready to leap out and infect me, it would still be something that I wanted no part of. 

I went and got a shovel and a plastic bag.  And I found a stick, which I used to carefully turn over the mass. It was about the same on the other side and I confirmed the overall shape.

Still no clues, so I scooped it up with the shovel and put it in the bag – which I set aside and partially knotted so I could reopen it if I found anything else.

I didn’t see anything so I went back to using the leaf sweeper.  I kept noticing a smell, though, and stopped to investigate.  

I hadn’t been quick enough to stop before and had rolled over something I think related to the mass.  Something black and stringy, with smaller masses lodged inside.  These strings had wrapped around the shaft of the leaf sweeper and were tangled into a foul smelling mess.

I flipped the sweeper over and got the bag open again.   Armed with my trusty stick, I carefully began to unwind the strings – which I assumed at this point were squirrel intestines.  Making the earlier mass perhaps a stomach?

It took a while, but I finally got all the strings unwound and bagged.  I tossed the stick in the bag as well for good measure and then closed it up for good this time.  

The last step was to hose off the sweeper to finally be rid of the smell.  I finished the lawn sweeping without incident, but I did manage to roll over some undiscovered dog poop in the backyard that required another round with the hose.  

The suburbs are no place for the weak of stomach or faint of heart.

There was another mass shooting recently – this time, at a university in Michigan. 

We mourned for the lost lives of the students while we tried to focus our own communications on information and preparedness. 

After spending far too much time reading the news, I signed myself up for the online course/video offered by UA called Run, Hide, Fight. 

It was a half-hour video presented by the UAPD with information on how to react to an active shooter event and while it was well done, it was also terrible. 

They talked about the goal of the shooter being a “high body-count” and how we should try to Run if we could to get away (and how not to be mistaken for the shooter and be shot ourselves by law enforcement). If we couldn’t Run, we were supposed to Hide and barricade ourselves until getting an all clear.  And if Hiding wasn’t an option, it was time for improvised weapons and rushing the attacker and Fighting to save ourselves.

There were two videos they played in the presentation and the first was set in a nightclub where the patrons were reacting to an active shooter and then “breaking the fourth wall” to explain to the camera and us what they were thinking and what they were doing.    Intense, but useful to see this planned out.  Maybe even a little reassuring that it was possible to think and not panic.

The second was in an office environment.  There were no thoughtful cutaways and helpful tips, it was just a gunman flatout murdering people with a shotgun.   A few people managed to do the Run, Hide, Fight as they were trained, but only after they had been alerted to the threat. 

Now, I’ve watched a lot of TV shows and movies and I’m not bothered by violence on the screen.  I can see how it advances the plot, the motives are clear, and the hero saves the day in the end.

This one, though, really bothered me.  No clever plot device and no distancing us from the actors – we were expected to put ourselves in the role of the victims and it was all too easy to do so. 

After it was done, I was a little shaken up and started to look around our office as a risk assessment.  We’re in a big glass building in the middle of campus, our office suite has only one exit right onto a main hallway, and the main door to our suite has a big panel of glass.    Running didn’t seem like much of an option and Hiding didn’t seem any better. 

So, that evening I went to the store and bought a curtain and tension rod and then put it up the next day.  Since the suite lights turn off from a motion sensor, we use lights in our individual offices to work by.  With the curtain drawn and no lights visible from outside, we would look like we weren’t home.  So, a quick move to deadbolt the door, barricade ourselves in our own offices, and then consider going out a window if it came down to it. 

I felt a little bit better after I made a plan and put up the curtain – knowing that even the prey with the best camouflage sometimes still gets eaten.

They don’t know why the shooter went after the students at the university in Michigan.  He had no ties there and didn’t even live nearby.  But, I guess if you are looking for that body-count, you go where the people are and create as much fear as you can.

So, we’ve watched the training, learned the mantra, and have a little plan to try and keep us safe. 

But I don’t feel safe.

Another story from the island trip…

Jim and I signed up for a Sunset and Stargazing trip to the top of Mauna Kea – the tallest mountain in the world.  

If you measure from the bottom of the seafloor.  

Which they do.

We grabbed jackets, put on long pants and comfortable shoes and went to the mall – the designated pick up spot for the tour van.   

We could spot other travelers by their similar clothing – at least the ones who had read the details of the trip and the precautions. 

The van was a few minutes late and our tour guide/driver introduced himself as we loaded up.  His name was Shin and he was originally from Japan, but had lived in Hawaii for many years. But, not long enough to lose his accent.  

Which wasn’t a problem while we were in the parking lot, but once we got on the road to the mountain the noise of the van made it difficult to figure out what he was saying.  I tried to share what I could pick out with Jim, but I know we missed a lot.  Shin did have a recording he played at intervals to point out features on the trip; so that helped. 

One of our fellow passengers got motion sick and we had to stop the van.  They switched to a front seat and did better – but it didn’t bode well for the rest of the trip.  We had heard stories of altitude sickness.

We got to the foot of the mountain – at least, the part above sea level – and started the climb upwards.  The climate started to change pretty quickly and it was like being on another part of the planet by the time we reached the visitor’s center.

There was time for a small meal – snacks, mostly – while we acclimated to the altitude.  The oxygen saturation was 80% of what we’d have at sea level.  We had to spend 45 minutes there – plenty of time to check out the gift shop as well – before resuming the climb.  Only vehicles with 4 wheel drive were permitted any higher up and the road was deliberately bad to deter too many visitors.  

We stopped near the summit for a bit to check out all the telescopes and get some photos – including a patch of snow in Hawaii in the summer.   One of the members of the group was starting to have trouble with altitude sickness and had to wait in the van.  The rest of us put on our provided parkas and marveled at the landscape and the stillness.    We were a long way from the ocean waves and the sounds of traffic.  

No birds either – and no plants.  It was as desolate a place as I’ve ever been – but peaceful.

After a bit we loaded back up and finished the ascent.  At the top were more telescopes and an amazing view – from above the clouds.    We joined other tour groups to find a good spot to watch the sunset and take more photos.    I started to get a little tired since the O2 was only 60% of sea-level, but I took it easy and took my time. 

And then the sun sank below the clouds.  It was breathtaking and the only sound for a few minutes was the shutters of high-end cameras.

And then it was done.  We piled back into the van and headed back down to the visitor’s center as night rapidly fell. 

Shin parked the van, fixed us hot chocolate and we put on our parkas again as we got out.  He set up a small telescope and started pointing out constellations with a high powered laser.  We looked at the craters of the moon and got time lapse photos taken with the Milky Way as a backdrop.

Living in the city, I had forgotten how many stars there were.

With our hot chocolate finished and the star-gazing done, it was time to head back down the mountain.  The guide dropped us off again at the mall and we walked back to our condo.

We had seen the world from above the clouds, watched a telescope open to greet the night sky, traveled through nearly all the possible climates on Earth in a single day, and marveled at our small place in the universe. 

Not much will catch my attention as I scroll through videos in social media, but the science ones stand the best chance.  A short video from an enthusiastic scientist named Dr. Becky caught my eye and I watched her tell a story about a new space telescope. 

It’s the Euclid telescope and the snippet showed how it scans the sky and provides a view even better than the James Webb telescope.  In passing, Dr. Becky mentioned how it had already had “first light” on the receptors as it was moving into position before it was focused.

There were some nice images of space after that, but I was hung up on the phrase.

Even before it was really ready to “see” the sky, light had already shown on the “eyes” of the telescope  Not something it would “remember”, but that light had been captured – no matter how briefly.

We each had our “first light”, before we were really ready to see or remember.  Of all the light in the universe, we each got a little – right at the start – that was just for us.  

There seems to be more to see each time we humans look skyward and more mysteries to explore just beyond our reach.    Old light from far away, traveling unimaginable distances, to grace our eyes for a moment. 

And there will be a last light for all of us as well.  We’ll each get one last photon before the darkness takes hold – and there will be one last “final light” before the universe goes dark.

For now, the light of the screen streams photons to my eyes and I have this bit of light – just for me. 

I’ve got a few stories from our island trip and decided write them down so I won’t forget them.

The timing was odd for our trip back from Hawaii.  We had to check out of the condo by 11 am – but our flight wasn’t until 9:50 pm. 

We had some time.

So, there was lunch and a trip to a national park.  Along the way, we approached a military cemetery and we decided to stop and check it out.  It was well back from the road and the gate opened when we approached and pulled on through.  We were the only visitors as we pulled into a parking spot and got out.

The part of the island we were on wasn’t crowded like other areas and we had gotten used to the quiet – but this was another level of quiet.  No traffic, no ocean, no birds and most importantly, no other people.  

Just the wind.

It was a beautiful and well maintained cemetery and as we walked around we spoke to each other in hushed tones.  There was a small flower garden, several plaques, flat markers in the ground and several mausoleums – filled with deceased service personnel and their spouses who had made their homes on the islands and served our country.  

We talked quietly about the epitaphs on the markers and though we didn’t know any of the names we got a sense of their stories.

One epitaph below a name reads simply, “Done.”

That one got to me.  It was incredibly sad and so completely final.  

And yet, it was also peaceful.  Maybe the most peaceful place I had ever been. 

There was love there and loss.  There was memory and respect. 

And there was the peace of a journey done.  Finally, a chance to set aside everything and just…rest.

We said quiet goodbyes to these strangers and left them to be. 

Jim and I were out running errands recently and he wanted to stop and get a haircut.  I went in with him  – though that ship has sailed for me – and sat off to the side out of the way.  

I had paper with me, of course, and started to fold a few shapes.  I wasn’t paying a lot of attention to what I was doing and just let the muscle memory take over to pass the time.   I realized that there was a guy sitting across the waiting area that was watching me, so I got out some green paper and folded a small dragon.  I looked over, made eye contact and watched his face light up as I walked over and handed him the small dragon.  

“So cool,” he told me and thanked me – as though I had handed him a fabled treasure.  “It’s even cooler because of this,” he said and pulled the neck of his shirt to the side to show a dragon tattoo on his upper chest and shoulder.  

“Nice!” I responded and he took out his phone to take a picture of the dragon sitting in his hand.

He tucked the dragon into the pocket of his shirt with just the head peeking out – as though it was looking at his phone with him.  

Jim’s haircut was done soon after that and as we left the guy thanked me again and wished me a good day.

But, it already was.  The best part about folding paper is giving it away and sharing with people. 

I was thinking just the other day how lucky I am that this is the hobby that stuck with me.  I’m not good at drawing or painting and I’m not going to win any prizes for writing or photography.  But I can take a simple square of paper and do magic.   And I can give it away freely or just leave it behind where-ever I go with no consequence. 

I made a paper dragon, made a new friend, and shared a little wonder. 

The envelope looked official and came with a delivery of anxiety.  I was being summoned for jury duty for the Akron Municipal Court.

I’ve served once before and been called without serving, but for some reason this time had me freaked out.  Too many unknowns and nebulous but dire consequences for mistakes.

Like taxes, actually.

The notice said I had 5 days to respond to the survey and I waited a day before hopping online to complete it.   Except, it had my residential address wrong – though the mailing address was right.  So, I wasn’t allowed to complete it online and had to send it in.  And I had already wasted one of my 5 days I was allowed to reply.  So, a little worrying there – though I later learned that as long as it’s before the week of the duty it’s not a big deal.   And that you can call in if the week is inconvenient to get the obligation moved.  Interesting.  

I got that completed and in the mail and then waited until it was my week to start calling to see if I needed to report.  My summons color was Yellow and my group was 3 – and the week of March 20th was my week. 

The Sunday beforehand, I got some anxiety.  What if I missed something in the directions? What if I couldn’t find the right entrance on the terrible map?  What if I set off the metal detector?  If I was called, who would let the dogs out at lunchtime?  And when would I get to eat?  Would there be enough time?  Should I pack lunch?  What if I was late?  What if I got lost?  How long would the trial last?  What if I did something wrong in the trial? Would I go to jail?

With my brain melting down, I talked to Jim who gave me some calming techniques.   He noted that people usually can’t think of more than one thing at a time and making the mind/body connection could help – though, he said that if anyone could think of more than one thing at a time, it would be me.  I took that as a compliment. 

Settled down a bit, I called the number Sunday after 5 and was off the hook – no potential jurors would be reporting for Monday.  Monday night I called again, this time it was Purple, groups 1-12 for Tuesday.  Tuesday night’s call for Wednesday was Purple, groups 13-19.  

As I was leaving work on Wednesday I got a text and an email – I was due to report on Thursday at 8 am.  I called after 5 to confirm and got the instructions – and then bought lunch meat for a sandwich for the next day.  I also sent an email to my co-workers and set up my out-of-office message. I packed a lunch, a book, and some paper – along with the paperwork – and decided what I would wear.  I was as ready as I could be and that helped a little.

This morning I was up early and got to the courthouse at 7:30.  I did set off the metal detector despite my careful planning – it might have been my belt – but the guard let me through anyway. I guess I didn’t look like a bad guy.  

I found the right room and got checked in. (No, I didn’t need my parking validated nor did I need an excuse for work.)

Folks started to roll in after that – including a few that got there after 8.  Which would have just killed me if I was that late.  One guy was putting his belt back on as he walked in.  I guess he looked like a bad guy.  

And then we waited.

At around 9, one of the bailiffs for Judge Larson came in and called our names to be moved forward in the process.  I was picked and assigned #10.   We followed him through the courthouse building through a path I could never have duplicated, then took us up to the jury room in two groups.  There were doughnuts, but I figured I didn’t need any sugar.  Just before 10 am, we were brought in order to the courtroom for the “voir dire”  (which I somehow got right just now) as the potential jury review.

Both the attorneys asked us questions and we learned:

1. It would be a jury of 8, with one or two alternates.
2. The defendant was accused of disorderly conduct during the Jayland Walker protests/riots in Akron.
3. The trial wasn’t expected to last even the full day. 
4. The witnesses were University of Akron police officers. 

Interesting.

There were a few potentials that had poor opinions of law enforcement, were related to police officers, or had work hardships. 

I wasn’t the only UA person there – a guy from the Carpentry shop knew both of the officers.    When they asked what I did at UA, I told them I was the Webmaster – which is not my official title but sounded less pretentious in context than Director of Web Services.  

(The woman sitting next to me whispered, “cool title”. Which it is. )

I noted that I wouldn’t have a problem with a Not Guilty verdict – against the officers’ testimony – since I didn’t know them, but might have trouble with objectivity with the defendant depending on where the crime took place since I’ve worked at UA for 25 years and got my degree from there.  I’m a little protective of UA.

The defense asked a lot more questions of nearly everyone.  Two of the guys had prior criminal records and one lady had been involved in a peaceful protest.  And another woman was a federal court clerk that knew one of the attorneys.  One guy said he had cognitive issues because of Huntington’s disease.  And someone didn’t smell great – though that was just something I noted and not part of the questioning. 

It was close to 11:00 before the voir dire finished and the judge and attorneys went to the chambers to figure out who would stay for the trial and who would leave.    I got out some paper while I was waiting and this sparked some conversation since they had seen what I worked on in the assembly room.  I folded a small person and noted that this was the most complicated thing I knew how to do. Then I said,

“If I make 7 more of these, none of us will have to stay,”

The potential jurors around me thought that was a great idea and laughed – then one asked if they thought we could get away with it.

“Maybe,” I said, “If I used legal-size paper,”

That is pure comedy gold right there, folks.

The baileff said it might take a while and we were sent back to the jury room for a bit – I had a doughnut since I didn’t know when lunch would be and I was getting a headache.

Not long after, though, it was back to the courtroom.  And both myself and the other UA guy – along with a few other folks – were “thanked and released”.  (Sounds like something you would do with a fish.)  No real surprises in those that were released – we were either too involved or too extreme in one direction or the other. 

The UA guy and I talked as we headed back to our cars – speculating on what had gone on and wondering why we had even been in the initial pool.  

I got home around noon and had my lunch – and checked in with my boss with the news that I would be online tomorrow. 

I had to call again after 5 and it was back to the Purple summons  – I was done with this round of service.   It all turned out to be interesting and not as stressful as I expected.

Civic duty = completed.