Category: Uncategorized Page 9 of 152

I visited family this weekend for Father’s Day and on the drive between here and there, I noted a fair number of pro-Trump signs and flags. No Confederate flags this time, so that’s something.

One yard had a number of wooden signs up on posts – a whole garden of messages. There was a MAGA sign, a Trump-Pence 2020 sign, a few I didn’t catch, COIVD-19 Hoax, a Women For Trump (in bright pink, naturally). And then the most eye catching and strange one:

L G B T

Except, the letters had picograms above them to try and create a new meaning. It is pride month, after all.

Above the L was the Statue of Liberty. So, L for Liberty – though I’m pretty sure that the statue itself is supportive of immigration. You know, “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free…”. Perhaps it only applies to immigrants from the non-shithole countries – I dunno.

Above the G, a handgun. Sigh, of course.

Above the B was a rectangle with rounded corners. On my first trip past I couldn’t tell what it was – maybe a Bible?

Above the T was a not-very-flattering-but-recognizable cartoon side view of Trump himself.

So, Liberty, Guns, Bible(?), Trump.

On the return trip, I got a closer look at the B and realized it wasn’t a Bible, it was a Beer stein.

Liberty, Guns, Beer, Trump

Somehow, this now made even less sense. I didn’t realize that Beer was something one would either be for or against. Is there some Anti-beer movement that I don’t know about that this was protesting? If you aren’t Pro-beer, are you un-American? Hmmm…might have just answered that one.

When I got home, I risked polluting my search history and tried to look this up. Sure enough, you can buy t-shirts, posters, and flags with the same message. Liberty, Guns, Beer, Trump. Or, to my surprise, Bible is a “valid” substitution for B in the message as well.

I could have been angry. Especially this month when pride and LGBT is a thing to be celebrated. How dare they take those letters and try to co-opt their meaning?

But, I didn’t feel anger. Just this wave of sadness. How much of this amazing country are they missing out on by willfully excluding everyone who don’t think, look, or act like them? And for all of the effort put into building that wall of signs, what do they get in return? Just a poisonous swamp of hate.

So, I felt sad for them as I drove past their strange collection of signs. I hope they find a reason to take down some of them one day and maybe make some new friends.

Who knows? Maybe one of their kids will come out of the closet as Beer.

When it comes to paper-folding, my two favorite things are sharing what I make and teaching other people. So, when the director for The University of Akron’s Women in Engineering program asked if I would be the ‘keynote’ speaker for the Kids’s Career Day and teach some origami, I was on-board.

Then I found out that it was on a Saturday at 7:45 am. Hmmmm…okay, doable.

And then I found out it was 200 girls, age 1st-6th grade. And I had 45 minutes. And they would be coming in randomly after breakfast. And it was going be in the student union theater with no desks.

I’ve taught lots of people – one at a time. And I’ve taught a group once of about 15 kids at one time.

But this. This was a whole new level.

I was given plenty of time to plan this and it all culminated this morning.

The theater seating doesn’t have fold-out desks, so I had cardboard boxes cut down to make temporary folding desks. 200 worth. I also had several reams of paper – collated into sets for the projects. I had signs made up and giveaways of origami in bulk.

The biggest challenge was how to teach 200 kids at once. With one or two people, it’s easy to help if something goes wrong. But in a theater full of people, there’s no way to correct if things go awry.

So, I had talked to one of my colleagues about rigging up a video camera to project my hands and the paper onto the big screen. He came through and we were larger than life 15 minutes before the first kid came in.

The coordinator for the event introduced me and then I was on.

We started with the butterfly, then did a boat, and then a duck.

It was a different experience than when I’d taught before. I had to go slower, repeat the steps, and keep everyone engaged.

And, it worked.

The video camera worked perfectly. The kids stayed on track. And everyone, including me, had fun. I got compliments and thanks from the parents that were there and I think the kids were impressed with the tiny cranes and boxes I gave away.

When it was done, I packed up my gear and headed home – exhausted, but happy with the results and my new personal record.

Even when the university of akron is closed for break, I still keep up with some of the email that comes into the webmaster@uakron.edu account since not everyone that tries to contact us would realize we’re closed.  Most of this is pretty routine but the day after break started, we got a note from the Chinese Domain Registrar.

A domain is a collection of internet addresses – like uakron.edu or yahoo.com – that are managed by a central governing body.  So, if you type in www.uakron.edu your browser knows where to go on the internet.  

The note said that a company in China was trying to register uakron.cn, uakron.com.cn and several variations on that  – along with the internet keyword of “uakron”. The registrar noted that UA existed and decided to check in with us to see if this was legit before setting it up.

Since this wasn’t close to being legit, I quickly responded with a polite but firm negation – and carboned our legal department.  I included the dates we were going to be closed for break and a note that the lawyers would be back in touch with a more official response.

And then I waited and hoped it was enough.

If this actually goes through, then anyone in China – particularly prospective students – that searched on “uakron” would end up at this company’s site instead of at our site.

Shady.

When we got back from break, I updated my boss and a co-worker that oversees the UA brand.  One of the lawyers emailed me back and said that he would look into it. The next day, I got a note from the Chinese company that basically said:

“Yeah, the registrar said we should pick a different name, but we really want to use this one so we will anyway,”

So, I replied to this as well – politely, but firmly – that “no” they were not authorized to do that.  I carboned everyone on that note – including the Chinese Registrar guy (who’s my hero at this point for trying to do the right thing).

And now we wait again.

I’m glad I was keeping an eye on things and I’m hoping we can really get this stopped before it gets implemented – much easier than trying to undo it.

Think I need to update my business cards to add “Defender of the Internet”.  Or at least, “Designated Internet Panic Response Coordinator”.

I got a letter in the mail recently that had my address handwritten – or at least it looked like that.  But it was really a font and printed on the envelope. Also printed there was a sort of transparent gradient house with a tree in the front yard.  

When I opened it, there was a letter from an insurance agent with that same house picture – only now it was in full color and I could see it was MY house.  Or, rather, a picture of my house as it used to be – before the tree in the front yard was cut down – pulled from “public sources” (as explained in the caption), which in this case meant google street view.

The caption also said that no agent had been to my house and it wasn’t the company that I already work with.  But, they wanted to be my agent.  

In a super-duper creepy way.

I mean, it got my attention, but it was also unnerving enough I don’t want anything to do with it.  On the flip side, pretty impressive amount of work to get to that produced.

—————-

Our building at work had a chili contest recently – this is where I had moose meat chili, naturally – and it was a gathering of all the departments that worked there.

We assembled in the conference room on the second floor and everyone helped get the table set up.  I was already eyeing the cookies off to one side when a colleague from one of the other departments announced that we should pray first.

My first thought was “what, really?  Here?”, but everyone closed their eyes and bowed their heads. 

Everyone, that is, except for me and one other guy.  We had our eyes open, looking around at the rest assembled and made eye contact.  Eyebrows were raised and shrugs exchanged, but we both just waited quietly until the prayer was done.  

Which was not quite as soon as I would have liked – given that the food was already on the table and, well, we were at work.  

And then it was time to eat.  

I guess what puzzled me was why the colleague assumed that this would be okay with everyone, and that everyone should participate, and that everyone believed in the same things he did.  It wasn’t bad, it was just… well… why?

—————–

Jim had one last paper to write for his art therapy certification program and I volunteered to help with documenting a technique.  We got the table and supplies set up and he gave direction while taking photos of me putting blobs of white paint to colored paper and then folding and unfolding to get a sort of ink blot.  Except I was instructed to think of this as clouds and to try and see an image there.

On the first page – black paper – I didn’t see much until I spun the page around – but then the blots suggested an owl’s face.  I used some oil pastels to sketch the rest of the shape and gave it a title.

On the blue paper, the blots right away looked like two swans facing each other.  I added in a little color for the beaks and drew lines to better suggest the shapes.

I asked Jim how I did and he said, “well, you’re sane,” – which was such a relief.  Apparently I came up with really normal things to see there and it just happened that they were both birds that I saw in the “clouds”.  If I had drawn something like “demons eating babies” or something, that would have been a red flag.

So, good news, I’m sane.  Who would have guessed? I’ve asked for a certificate, but he’s been busy.

————–

And hey, how about that weather?  Weird, right?

“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.