Category: Uncategorized Page 18 of 157

The optimal route for me to drive home from work takes me through a not-so-great neighborhood, but even with all the on-street parking (on both sides, naturally, jerks) and random pedestrians walking in the street for me to dodge, it’s still better than any other route.  Most days, anyway.

Today on the drive home, I saw some kids playing on the sidewalk.  I paid close attention as I approached – ready to hit the brakes if one of them randomly lunged into the street.  Wouldn’t be the first time…

Instead, I caught the eye of a little boy holding a black toy gun with orange accents.  Except for the orange color, it might as well have passed for a real gun – it was the right size and shape.  

He raised the gun and pointed it at me so that I could see down the barrel – and kept it trained on me as I drove past.

The look on his face was pure malice.  If it had been a real gun he might very well have shot me for no other reason than I was driving down the street.

I have a toy gun too – one that I got as a present.  It’s a sci-fi blaster – a prop from Guardians of the Galaxy.  It has some cool special effects and lights up and it only barely resembles any kind of gun.   And it rests in my Armory of Fictional and Mythical Artifacts & Weapons – along with a sonic screwdriver, magic wand, and Golden Sword of Battle, etc.

The blaster will sometimes find its way to my hand and I’ll point it at the wall and pull the trigger to hear the noise and watch it light up.  Just as a nerf sword might be swung through the air or a ring might be charged up with a memorized oath. (“In brightest day…”)

And I could no more hurt someone with the blaster than the boy could have hurt me with his toy gun – but, that malice was unnerving.

In the wake of… well, I was going to say the gun violence this week, but narrowing it to a single week seems disrespectful.  In the wake of the ongoing gun violence, the blaster seems a little less fun.

What is our fascination with guns?  I’ve never held a real one – nor (fortunately) have I had one pointed at me.  But even that toy blaster evokes… something.

I’m not going to vary my route because some randomly angry kid pointed a fake gun at me.  And I’m not on a mission to ban toy guns.

But, I’ve given this a little thought, and I think it’s time to part with the blaster.  I’m tired of guns and the anger and people dying because it’s easy to pull a trigger. Fake or real, it’s too often an expression of anger and I could use a little less of that.  

Maybe we all could.

I got my sample ballot printed out recently and did my due diligence in researching the candidates.   I had pretty simple criteria as I visited their websites – dividing them neatly into “vote for” and “lunatic”.  Well, maybe not quite like that.

I have my notes ready and I’ll be heading to the polls early on election day.  I considering doing the early voting, but the process when I did that before seemed… eh.  A little too casual, maybe.

———–

In a recent staff meeting, I made a small cube-shaped jack o’lantern out of orange paper and left it on the table when I left.  One of my coworkers saw this, loved it, emailed me, and asked if I could make some for her daughter’s preschool class. She requested 19 of them on a Tuesday and needed them by Thursday so she could deliver them on Friday.   

I agreed – figuring I’d do twenty so she could have one too – then did the math.  Each cube is 6 modules in orange with a seventh in green for the stem. Times 20… 140 pieces of paper folded.  In two days. Plus assembly and drawing a face on each one.

I bought the orange paper I needed Tuesday night and got all of them cut – plus 10 cubes and stems done.  I also made a stencil for the faces. On Wednesday, I finished up the folding and got them assembled and finished.  Delivered Thursday – on time. Looking forward to the pictures of the kids getting them.

———-

In other folding news… I participated in a Make a Difference Day event on campus where I taught students to fold some origami ornaments.     Most of the students there were making ornaments from kits, but a few joined me for a little folding. As we went along, a couple of them starting teaching other students that joined in.  And they divided up the labor – one guy cutting paper and another folding right up to where the designs diverged.

We made a ton of ornaments in a couple hours and two of the students wanted my contact info for future projects.

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Tonight was trick-or-treat in Akron.  Two years ago, I missed it entirely. It was on a weird day or something.   Last year, I bah-humbugged my way past it with dark porch lights and a scowl.

This year, though, I bought several bags of candy and determined the day well in advance.  It was from 5-7 and by 4:50 I was on the porch with a chair, an origami pumpkin, a bowl of candy (with more in reserve) and a book.

Took a bit for the kids to start showing up and many of them were in large groups.  There were some kids that were maye a little too old for trick or treating and many didn’t have much in the way of costumes.  And one girl had a torn grocery bag for her treats – I wanted to maybe get her a new one, but she was gone before I could say something.

It was cold and raining and not quite as magical as when I was a kid, but I gave away a lot of candy and most of the kids said thank you – even if many forgot the “Trick or Treat”.

I have a little candy left over to take to work to share, so, everyone wins.

————–

I had a whole series of plans for a productive Saturday.

Which is unusual in itself – I’m more a “ugh, no” person when it comes to a day off.

I was going to get up early and finish my painting, then get some breakfast on the way into the office for a bit.  Next, over to Good Life tattoo and body piercing for some new jewelry and finally up north to half price books.

Annnnd I slept in.  Not a lot, but enough to throw me off.  So, I skipped the painting and went into the office expecting to have pop tarts there.

But, my card swipe didn’t work and I can’t find my key.  And Good Life didn’t open til noon. So, I instead headed north to the bookstore.  My friend George lives “north” but not really the part of north I was at. But, I figured since I don’t get to see him often, I could go a little out of my way and invited him for lunch after my bookstore trip.

After lunch, I headed back to Akron and got some new jewelry, (SHINY!) then home.  I worked a little bit from home, but that’s tougher to do. I did some laundry, worked on a couple of projects, and had a quiet evening.

Sunday had less formal planning and it went a little better.  I ran some errands, did some reading, finished my paintings, and worked on a cool paper project.  And I cleaned my garage since that seemed like the thing to do.

Not as productive as I had planned, but still a busy weekend.

—————

I’ve been playing some games recently that have moralist systems.  You can play as a bad guy or a good guy and the choices you make impact the game.  I played Dishonored 2 as Emily first, the young empress, and used stealth and non-lethal means to get through the game and rescue her father from his transformation into stone.  So, Low Chaos and just being dang sneaky.

And it was a lot of fun, but it took a while to play through since I had to be careful.  Once I beat the game, I played again as her father Corvo – the royal protector – in a High Chaos destroy everything and kill anyone that stands in his way of rescuing his daughter.  It felt consistent based on the character and while I personally would have gone the stealth route if it was me – I got into the character and his motivations.  We ended the game on a dark note, but it felt “right”.

I had played another game with a similar good and evil system – but this time Devlen from Infamous Second Son (smoke powers in Seattle ) was the same guy with each play though.  The first time, he was the hero and saved the day. The second time, playing as the bad guy, I’m making the “wrong choices” and sending him down a path of evil.

And it feels… wrong.  Not just that kicking civilians or beating up street musicians is wrong – but that it feels wrong for him.  He’s not driven by a changing story or hunger for righteous fury and vengeance, he’s just…well, an asshole.

Good and evil are more than just not punching babies or saving a bus of nuns.  There’s always context. What drives a person – or a character – to act in the way that they do?

So, I’m not sure I’m going to continue with Devlen as a bad guy.  He’s supposed to be a hero and playing against that just feel disingenuous.

Also, there’s something wrong with my controller and if I’m not pushing him forward he tends to wander backwards and vaguely left.  There might be something to that, but I think I’ve already pushed the metaphor.

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I’m at 201 tweets and I’ve been doing one haiku a day since June 17th.  That’s a lot of poetry to write and I’m still plugging away. It’s a good mental challenge and I find myself thinking in syllables even when I’m not working on a tweet.

So, time to wrap this up and find the next one for today.

The first call into the campus switchboard this past Friday morning started out with:

“Your whipped cream is TERRIBLE!”

The operator tried to get some clarification, but instead got:

“You must have left it out all night!”

It was eventually determined that the caller was attempting to reach the coffee shop in the campus library and were then transferred.

Seriously, who starts off a phone call that way?

—————–

Jim and I were recently in a noisy restaurant and got to talking about old game shows like $20,000 Pyramid and Password.   He leaned in to stage-whisper a clue to me:

“Moist,”

I leaned in and replied, but he clearly didn’t hear me.  Instead, he reared back and asked with shock, confusion, and perhaps a little horror.

“Did you say Rabbits?”  he asked.

Really confused as well, I responded.

“No, I said Brownies,”

We both nearly snorted with laughter trying to contain ourselves.

——————————–

On the way home from work, after a difficult day, I got stuck behind someone at a stop sign.  Their only option was a very safe right turn, but they lingered.

More than a little impatient, I mumbled some instructions to them that they couldn’t possibly hear. Normally, this would involve some obscure Ghostbusters reference like “The light is green, the trap is clean,” but that really only works at stoplights.

Instead, the clever bon mot I summoned was:

“It is red in colour, but not in intent,”

(Apparently, my subconscious is slightly British.)  

Roughly translated, I think I meant something about the stop sign’s color (or colour) is permanent, but shouldn’t be confused with a stoplight that will change and provide different information and instructions.

Or something.  It seemed really profound and clever to me at the time – so much that I wrote it down when I got home.  But I think I was really just tired and my brain wasn’t running at full power.

————————

I was talking to one of my female friends today and she said she had to check something on her phone.  She reached down the front of her top and pulled out her cell phone, glanced at it, then tucked it away again.

While I’m aware that women will occasionally carry items in their cleavage – especially if they don’t have a purse or clothing with pockets – the maneuver was so smooth and practiced it appeared like a magic trick.

I was a little agape, and half-way expected her to extract a rabbit next.   

Sadly, I lack the cleavage to perform a similar trick on my own. And it would not be appropriate to perform that trick on someone else, I’m certain.

I got a flyer in the mail yesterday from the Akron Police department letting me know that a sex offender was moving into the area.  The flyer included a picture, a description, the nature of his crime, as well as his exact address.

Two streets down from my house.

When I looked at the detail, though, it showed that the crime took place nearly 20 years ago.

And I’m not quite sure how I feel about that.

On the one hand, yeah, it was a pretty serious crime.  On the other, he got caught and paid his debt to society – whatever that means anymore.   And so if he’s out of jail – do we keep punishing him? Does that make our society safer that we continue to vilify him?  

If I was a parent I’m pretty sure I’d be singing a different song – but if he was a thief or a murderer, I wouldn’t have gotten a notice.  Which seems like an odd standard.  

And if he’s really still dangerous, then what good did prison do?

So, now I know that a sex offender has moved into my neighborhood.  I don’t feel any safer knowing.

——————–

As a public institution, the University of Akron is required to allow people to come onto campus and speak in public spaces – provided they don’t disrupt our normal operations or pose a threat to campus safety.

Recently, a notice went out to the faculty, staff, and students about someone coming onto campus and that any counter-discussions should be done peacefully.  But no details on what it was about.

I was busy through that day and didn’t get anywhere near the venue – and it was just as well.  Based on the complaints we got, it was a preacher who was basically against anyone that didn’t fit his narrow view of how humanity should be.

And he was loud and vile about it – and pretty crazy.

It’s the kind of thing that would have made me sick to my stomach to have witnessed, but when I went through that area the next day I saw something extraordinary.  

All along the walkway leading up to that area, students had grabbed some chalk and written messages of hope and love on the ground.  It was amazing – such an outpouring of support and kindness for everyone he had been attacking.  

As I walked along that walkway, I felt loved.

The chalk washed away at the next rainstorm, but those messages – written by kind students who supported each other – lasted far longer than his hate.

So, thank you, UA students, for standing up to hate and caring about each other.  You did good.

The UA school of art recently hosted a talk at the Akron Art Museum for a “paperologist”  – someone who was a professional origami artist. Jim offered to go with me and we met up with one of his friends there.  

The speaker talked about how he got started (IT, but frustrated by not creating anything tangible) and how he learned as kid and came back to it.  

It was there that we diverged a bit.  He works with single gigantic sheets of paper and built complicated geometric models.  I, on the other hand, prefer to build hundreds of modules and use them as building blocks.  (I suspect my LEGO background is a factor.)

There was a slide show and he had some models to fold and unfold for us to see – and there are a couple of that I want to try.

Afterwards, one of the professors at UA that hosted the event insisted that I meet the speaker – even going so far as to push some of the students out of the way.  🙂 We talked for a couple of minutes and I gave him a modular diamond I had folded during the talk.

I don’t know many folders, but it was kinda cool to meet a new one.  Even in the short time we talked, we shared a feel for the paper and being able to see the next folds in our heads.  And when I gave him the module, his hands immediately began to turn it over and over, exploring the dimensions and angles.

He gets it.

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One of the outside faucets on my house had started to leak and no amount of “umph” would turn it all the way off.   Jim helped me find the shut-off valve in the basement and then I began to study the problem and acquire the tools.

Once ready, I got all set up and started working with two pipe wrenches and as much force as I could muster.

And that was not enough.

I managed to not get in over my head where there was any kind of leak, but no real progress.  With the water off to that faucet there wasn’t a hurry, so I waited until Jim had a little time and we tackled it again.

With the two of us each wielding a wrench, some WD-40, and a careful application of torque and we had the old faucet loose from the main pipe.  Well, there was some swearing involved, but that’s almost a given with me.

A little pipe tape and the new faucet was in place.  And then, I turned the water on. No leaks, no problems – just the sweet flow of liquid success.

—————————

This past weekend, my folks and my sister and her family came up for a visit and a bike ride.  I had gotten my bike out and ridden it around the block a couple of time – after I had re-inflated the tires from almost 0 – but I wasn’t really ready for the trip.

We met up on Saturday morning, then hit the trail.  The weather was much cooler than last year at this time and the distance wasn’t as far.  Which is good, because last year’s trip nearly killed me.  We had lunch at the trailhead, then took the train back to our cars.

Next up, a couple quick hikes to a waterfall and then an overlook.  The waterfall was pretty cool and the view from the overlook was impressive.  I went right up to the edge with that one. Well, I called it “right by the edge” – most people would have called it “about 10 feet back”.  

After the hike, we went back to their hotel and hung out for a bit before Jim joined us for dinner.  And then after dinner, a swim in the hotel pool. I got to swim with my nieces – they are both starting to learn – and they were amazed at how long I can hold my breath.  Uncle is pretty cool, right?

Eventually, the chlorine and very noisy other guests got to me and I called it a night. It was a good visit and I’m glad I got to see everyone.  

Oh, and I got a great selfie with my nieces. 🙂

I had some goals in mind when I went to my first pride this year.

1. I hoped to see some of my friends
2. I wanted to get a sense of the community
3. I thought I’d get a measure of the protestors
4. And get some “fair food” and merchandise, of course
5. And rock out in my kilt, Geek socks, and coordinated akron t-shirt.

I got there a little after the festival started and made a slow circuit of the vendors.  I kept an eye out as I walked around for my friends and managed to find a few – including the most awesome of my co-workers.   I also kept a look-out for the protesters – but there were none to be found.

As I walked around, I was struck by how happy everyone was to be there.  There were drag queens – of varying degrees of skill – and a few of us brave souls in kilts.  There were people on stilts and parents pushing kids in strollers. There was food of all kinds and an impressive Elton John cover artist.

Each time I ran into someone I knew, there was surprise and delight for both of us.  And a feeling of welcome.

There were a surprising number of banks there with booths set up.  And quite a few churches as well. Along with the t-shirt and art vendors, there were a few political candidates with booths – perhaps feeling a little out of place next to the leather harnesses.

And then there were the Log Cabin Republicans.    My mother usually says “Bless their hearts,” before commenting on someone’s character flaws.    I would have skipped that and gone right to “what a bunch of ignorant ass-hats,” but I just ignored them.

My friend Jenny and I got some doughnuts and listened to some music before she needed to leave.     I made another circuit and bought a wristband and a necklace.

And after I took my measure, I was on my way.

It was impossible not to fit in.  All ages, races, sexual orientations, and gender identifies – and quite a few religions.

But no protesters.  

Love won out that day.  

I got a message sent to the webmaster email from a parent about a month ago.  I get a lot of email and most of it I just skim and forward – or pop off a quick reply to guide someone to a resource.

This one I read – then read again.

The parent said in the email that her son had finally told her why he dropped out of school.  That a professor, in a classroom, had equated being gay to rape. He tried to get some assistance and wasn’t taken seriously.  It bothered him so much that he didn’t want to be in our classrooms anymore.

I read it again, then forwarded to the appropriate office to investigate and respond to it.

Now, what I know about this is so vastly overshadowed by what I don’t know it might as well be a thimble of kool-aid on Jupiter.

What was really said?  What was the context? Who did the student talk to?  How was that presented? What action was really taken?  How much was real? And how much was an overreaction?

I don’t know.  And I’m not in a position to know.  It’s not important to my job and it’s been given to the right people to resolve.

And yet… it keeps bothering me.  So, I reached out to the office that I forwarded this to and got a response today.  They haven’t yet met with the student, though a meeting is scheduled. And they haven’t responded to the parent at all – which surprised me a bit since they initiated the email in the first place.  They don’t know which class or which professor, if this was said inside or outside the classroom. Or even what was really said and the context.

Though, it would be a huge stretch to find some context where this wasn’t horrific.

And once they do know, they aren’t allowed to talk to me about it to preserve the privacy of the student – which I get, but is also frustrating.

I’m a problem solver by my nature and this isn’t something I’m allowed to solve – or even know the solution when it is solved.

I’m frustrated and angry and I feel a little let down.  You hear about things like this happening all the time in the news and I had naively thought, “well, that couldn’t happen here.  We’re better than that,”

And we are. Except when sometimes maybe we aren’t.  

I guess what troubles me so much about this is that it’s intended to make gay people feel bad about themselves.  That we’re supposed to feel ashamed and be reviled. That we’re wrong – just for being who we are.

——————

There’s been a flyer going around – on the internet and IRL – encouraging people to contact the Mayor’s office and then also to protest the Akron Pride festival.  It was filled with the usual hateful rhetoric and I’d generally dismiss it – but, like the problem in the classroom, this hit close to home. This is my town and we should be better than this.

So, I’ve decided that this year – my first year – I’m going to Pride.  

I don’t plan on staying the whole time.  And I’m really not good with crowds. But I think it’s important to be counted.  And maybe see the enemy face to face too.

I got some new socks to wear with my kilt and a matching t-shirt.  Looking forward to seeing my friends, marveling at the community, and just being a part of it all.  And relying on my speed and situational awareness to keep me safe if things go south.

In the grand scheme of things, it’s not much.  One more middle-aged gay guy at a pride festival.

But, it matters to me.  To stand – and dance, maybe – with my brothers and sisters.

Who just want a damn wedding cake.  

When I heard that my friend Louise had passed away back in December, I decided to write a eulogy for her in case I was called upon to speak.  I wasn’t, and there wasn’t a memorial, but I had a dream about her not long ago and it was as good of sign as any that it was time to post this.  

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I’m going to start this with my favorite conversation that I had with Louise.  It was one of the few times I was a little snarky with her – and you were snarky with Louise at your own peril.

We were out to eat and she was telling about how someone was assuming and expecting her to just “let something go”.

I said to her, “Louise, do they even know you?”

She gave me the evil eye – which I totally deserved – and then she laughed.  That rich throaty chuckle that she had.

Because she knew it.  That was just her. She was snarky and cranky – and very very stubborn.

But she was also amazingly and refreshingly honest.  Which is not always an easy thing to find. There was never an guile, or deception or hidden agendas – you always knew exactly where you stood with Louise.

Because she would tell you.

I was one of the very few lucky people that she counted as a friend.  And that didn’t happen overnight. It took awhile – years, I think – before I figured her out and she figured me out.  We met somewhere in the middle and became friends. I was always a little intimidated by her and didn’t cross her. Louise was fierce.

Over the years I set up a lot of electronics for her and put plastic on her windows in the winter.  I took her out to eat and to run errands – or pick up her Mom at bingo on a cold and snowy night.

And in return, she checked up on me.  I would get a call from her every so often just to see how I was doing.  How my family was and if my car was running okay. If my house was still good and how my cat was doing.  Just a little connection, just to see if I was okay.

I remember once when I was going through a difficult time and she was having a health scare.  I visited her in the hospital, determined to be there for her and be supportive.   She saw through me in about 3 seconds and spent most of the time I was there comforting me.  Here she was, looking tired and frail on her hospital bed – facing health issues that would force her to change her lifestyle – and she gave me a hug and said it was going to be okay.  And it was – I knew better than to argue.

Louise wanted the best for us – for all of us.  She didn’t pull any punches but behind that bluster was… I was going to say a “sweet woman”, but I don’t know that that’s entirely accurate.  

She was a “good woman” and she was my friend.  And I miss her.

The UA webteam has been working on making our website more accessible since, well, since we started.  We’ve made some recent big pushes and have a good plan in place to keep those efforts moving forward and engage the rest of the campus community.

But, since this is a big issue, the Powers That Be also decided we needed a committee to create a policy.  And I got volunteered to be on the committee.

Sigh.

And because I’m me, I had an overview prepared with notes and a timeline – in case I was called on to contribute.  

Good thing too since I was called on right at the start.  I gave my overview with appropriate levels of detail in a well organized and comprehensive manner.

Which was a huge mistake.  

Since this is an official Ad-Hoc committee, it needed a Chair, a Vice-Chair, and a Secretary.  When it came time to elect those, the room went deathly silent. You could have heard a pin drop onto the carpet.

Finally, someone spoke up and nominated me.

Shit.

I managed to hedge enough to get someone to volunteer to be a co-chair with me.  And of the people in the room, I guess I was the best to lead up the effort. And I’m also hoping I get a policy drafted quick and then shut things down.

But, still, the fact that no one – at all – wanted anything to do with leading the group suggests that committees are frequently dread-generators.  

After the meeting, my nominator apologized – but said I was always so helpful.  That, along with being prepared, were likely my downfalls. So, I made a listserv, sent out some links, and will be talking with the co-chair on Operation: Shut This Puppy Down.

Dang it.  Still competent.

———————–

In better volunteer news, I got asked to participate in a summer camp project.  A few weeks ago, I met with a staff member in the graduate school about a website they wanted to do.  We talked about other things as well and she remarked about the origami I have in my office.

Earlier this week, she contacted me again about a very small STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, and Math) summer camp they are starting – and would I be available to teach the kids some origami?

Absolutely.

It’s a small group – 5-6 sixth graders – and only for a ½ hour.  But, could be something that grows over time. (and way easier than a steady stream of very little kids for 5 hours like the Maker Faire)

I’m planning on teaching them the crane – with flapping wings – and talk about scale.  Then a demo of the wreath and how the angles relate to the number of modules. Then we’ll build a cube or two and if there’s time, a shape that starts like the crane and then goes in another direction.

Topography, geometry, spatial perceptions. Yep, I think I’ve got the STEM covered.

So, that’s coming up in a couple of weeks and I’ll get my materials and demos ready.  Might even do a lesson plan. AND I’ll get included in their National Science Foundation (NSF) write up.

SCIENCE, bitches!