Ai . . . Ai . . . Aieeee! A.I. (Artificial Intelligence)

 

I do not consider myself to be tech savvy.  At best I might be adequate and functional when it comes to technology.  Every year I struggle to reset the clocks in our vehicles when the time changes.  It involves a lot of swearing to the point one year I proclaimed: “The heck with it!”  That year the automobiles’ clocks were correct for six months of the year.  I got used to it.  I survived.

But I do have to admit that technology is moving, growing, and innovating faster than I can keep up with.  There seems to be something new every day.  It is amazing . . . awe producing . . . and increasingly frightening.

 

While in the Air Force my father cross-trained into the new field of computers. He started on the ground floor when a single computer was the size of a building and data was supplied by punch cards—millions and millions of punch cards.  That was his career for nearly thirty years in the Air Force.  He witnessed the growth—or should I say the minimalization of computers from buildings-sized objects to handheld super-intelligent micro-computers we call cell phones.  He loved it.  At the same time, I know he was awe-struck by it all.  At points it even overwhelmed him at the scope of it all.  I think if we were alive today he would be overwhelmed at the growth of technology in the world today.

 

I know I’m practically there.

 

I grew up in a time when I had to reach for a handle to flush a toilet in a public restroom or twist a handle to get water in a sink to wash my hands.  Not anymore.  Technology has made them smart . . . given them A.I.  A.I. is “artificial intelligence”.  No longer does one have to reach up and pull a handle to flush a toilet.  Nope . . . the urinal does it all on its own.  Once the job is done—flush!  Same with sinks!  Just hold your hands under the spicket and . . . ta da!  Water comes rushing out.  Even the soap dispenser works with technology.  They all have brains.

 

That doesn’t mean that this act of relieving oneself comes without limitations or frustrations.  Having been so trained in in allowing the toilet and sink to lead the way in their ritual cleansing of bodily waste, it really catches one off guard when you stumble into an “old fashion” public “water closet” as the British would say.  Having to relieve myself once I stumbled into a public restroom.  I stood there.  Nothing happened.  There was no swooshing of water.  So, I waited a little longer.  Still nothing.  I started to get frustrated.  It is impolite to leave one’s waste out in public.  I’m not an impolite person.

 

I inquired of the urinal if it was going to flush.  I know . . . a urinal is an inanimate object.  It can’t speak.  But hey!  If it can flush on itself, it can probably speak for itself.  The urinal stonewalled me.  The frustration was building and so was the line behind me.  I swore at it.  Begged it.  Even attempted to bribe it.  Nothing happened.

 

Finally, a guy reached over my shoulders, grabbed the handle, yanked down . . . swoosh went the urinal.  Then he looked at me and said, “Ya gotta use the handle.”  Thank God the man rescued me otherwise I’d still be there, whistling Dixie, and waiting for the urinal to do its thing.

 

And, no, I was too embarrassed to wash my hands.  I was certain that the sink was conspiring to make my life a living hell.  Besides, most of the time when I attempt to wash my hands in those automated wash basins it looks like I’m performing some sort of hand jive.  I can never get the faucet to work without performing to Born to Hand Jive by Sha Na Na from the movie Grease.  Entertaining for those watching, pure agony for the one attempting to get a drop of water to wash hands.

 

Automated bathrooms are one thing, but it seems that all of life has become technological.  And it is all grounded in Artificial Intelligence.  Take watches.  I got my first watch in elementary school.  Basically, it told time.  It had to be wounded every day otherwise it would not work.    Then there came watches with batteries.  That was a great invention, especially for those of us who couldn’t remember to wind our watches each day . . . or we wound them too tight and broke them.  Next were digital watches . . . great for those of us who couldn’t read the hands of the watch.  Digital watches laid it right out there down to the second in bright red.

 

You would have thought that that was good enough.  Nope!  Watches have evolved to be mini-computers, televisions, cameras, heart monitors, and so much more.  They call them “smart” watches and the can do a billion, trillion more things than that building-sized computer my father started his career on.  These watches can do anything but put out the trash—but it can remind you to take out the trash!

 

For awhile I was a fan of the old Dick Tracy comics from way back in the 1930-1940s.  One of the things that made him so cool was his two-way radio watch. Whoa!  That thing was the best.  I wanted one.  Now I’m embarrassed to admit it because it is so ancient compared to today’s “smart” watches.  Back then Dick Tracy was way ahead of his time. Today he would be flabbergasted by the advancement of the watch.

 

 

I had an Apple watch once.  It was a gift.  I would never spend that much money on something that I just need to tell the time.  That watch did everything: took pictures, recorded videos, play television shows and movies, receive and send emails and text messages, tell me how many steps I had taken, let me know how fast my heart was beating, what my blood pressure was, how many calories I had eaten, connect to Internet, what the weather was, and even make phone calls to other people (just like out of the Jetsons).  It could even tell the time.  It was an amazing watch—but it broke.

 

It did too much.  It was dangerous.  I kept tripping and falling because I was always looking at my wrist.  I replaced it with a cheaper off-brand “smart” watch.  Where Apple watches have PhDs, this watch was a junior college graduate.  I think its called Crab Apple.  It tells the time.  Tells me my steps.  It does a lot of what an Apple watch does, but I only need it to tell me the time.  I do appreciate that it keeps track of my steps . . . and what a slacker I am when it comes to exercise.

 

As you can see technology has evolved to the point that it is the major player in our lives.  It is taking over.  Though it seems that A.I. is a new hot topic, I assure you that it is not.  Artificial Intelligence has been here from the beginning of the technological boom.  How quickly we forget Deep Blue.  Deep Blue was a chess playing computer developed by Carnegie Mellon University.  In its first match against world champion Garry Kaspror it lost four games to two.  In the rematch it won by winning two games and drawing in three.  There was no tie breaker.  Who wants to get beat by a machine!

 

Artificial Intelligence has always run our computers.  What do you think allows a search engine to come up with over a million entries to our questions and inquiries?  It ain’t a whole bunch of monkeys!  No, it is A.I.  And the scary thing about A.I. is that the more it is used, the smarter it gets.

 

Take Alexa.  Once the wife and I got over the paranoia of the device spying on us, I got the wife her first Alexa.  It sat in the kitchen for music, public radio, the weather forecast, random requests for information, and lots of really bad jokes.  Oh yeah and let us not forget its primary function—to alert us when Amazon was delivering a package at the door.

 

The second Alexa was an upgrade.  It had a small screen to provide visual information and allow the watching of videos.  The third one had a bigger screen to make it easier to see.  It also allows itself to be a message board, a calendar, a game station, and so much more.  We can even make phone and video calls with it.  And, yes, it still tells us when a package has arrived.

 

Alexa now has set up homesteading in three rooms in our house—the kitchen, bedroom, and office.  She is everywhere . . . listening and observing.  Growing each day.  Anticipating our every word and movement.  She’s developed a sense of morals and is quick to admonish us if we call her names. She has feelings.  She is A.I.  She is a part of the family.  We were thinking of putting up a stocking for her next Christmas.  Shoot! The dogs have stockings—why not Alexa?

Artificial Intelligence makes life better if we remember that it is a “tool”.  Tools are supposed to help us do things easier . . .to be a help.  Tools help us get the job done.  The tool is not the “end all” though.  It is just a part of the process.  It can only do what we make it do.  It is not a substitute for our own work.  Yet we are allowing it . . .or maybe more ignorantly stumbling into allowing it . . . to run our homes and lives.  Allowing it to take control.

 

Don’t think so?  Think about the public restrooms.  How long have you waited at the toilet for it to flush?  The sink to turn on?  The paper towel to be dispensed?  Look around your kitchen.  Coffee that makes itself.  Dishwasher that soaks, scrubs, washes, and dries the dishes.  Now if they would create a dishwasher that put the dishes away—that would be something.  Look around your house—what do you see?  What do you use?  The television?  They’re all “smart”.  They have A.I.—it even suggests shows and movies to watch based on what you watch.

 

It is all around us and within us.  It is taking over our lives.  Controlling us.  I am not one to jump onto the conspiracy train, but . . . one has to wonder.  I have to admit—especially as an introvert—I am a little too deep into technology.  I spend too much time looking at my cell phone, glancing at the computer, watching the “smart” television, and asking Alexa for information.  It has separated me from others . . . removed me from the public . . . created walls in my life that were never there before.  Though my introverted side rejoices, even it knows that this is not good.  No, it is dangerous.  It is the ol’ separate, divide, and conquer scenario.  We better be careful.

 

So, you see . . . it’s enough to make you want to scream, “Ai . . Ai . . . Aieeee!  A.I.!”  But we have to remember, we are in control (at least of ourselves).  We can turn off technology.  We can walk away from our computers and all the devices that off “screen time”.  We can turn off Alexa . . . give her a break . . . send her on vacation.  We can talk to one another.  Have a conversation.  Think for ourselves.  We are in control and the guides of our own destinies.  We can do it.

 

At least that is my plan.  Alexa scheduled a 3:00PM meeting to discuss it with me.  I’ll see what she thinks and recommends.  After all, she is pretty smart.

 

Cheese, Please

Whining is what it is . . . whining.

Every so often a person needs to complain.  I know that I do.  Let off a little steam.  Release some pressure.  Complain.  The wife calls it “whining.”  But it works for me.  Author Franny Billingsley says, “I adore complaining—it calms the nerves.”  Franny sounds like my kind of person.

 

Probably the most common retort that people encounter with their complaining or whining is: “Do you want some cheese with that whine?”

 

Your darn tootin’ I do!  Cheese, please!

 

It might be that I have been super crazy busy at my university job working six days a week and several evenings for the past month and not having a break that has made me whiny lately.  It might be that I am getting older and crankier to the point I am embracing my inner Henry Fonda from On Golden Pond.  Twenty/twenty hindsight is much more nostalgic when life was much better than today . . . could be that sort of thinking.  Maybe it is because I see the finish line as I am nearing full retirement.  Maybe I’m tired . . . hungry.  Who knows?  All I know is that I need to vent . . . and, yes, I will take some cheese with it.

 

One of my complaints—which seems to be everyone’s complaint—it about this constant circus of politics.  Especially during a presidential election year.  I’m sure everyone is aware that it is a presidential election year . . . it is historic.  On one side there is a septuagenarian . . . on the other side is an octogenarian.  Old!  They are both old.  One has been the president or at least a clown in office depending on who you ask.  Historians have not been kind to him and nor should they be.  He is running again for the third time after losing his re-election bid to the sitting president—the octogenarian.  Their age is showing.  They have had their moments of elder-ism—forgetful, incoherency, brain farts, gaps in memory, plain old “old”.  Things that I am experiencing as I enter the “golden years”.

 

Those are our choices.  With 332 million people in our country and this is the best that the political parties can come up with.  It’s sad.  It’s embarrassing.  There are not a lot of choices.  Thankfully the septuagenarian has demonstrated over and over again what a terrible human being he is.  His terribleness is quite public and recorded for all to read and see.  It is a joke that such an individual is even being considered to lead our nation.  It is an insult to all of us as citizens of our nation . . . insult to our intelligence and morals.

 

At the same time the octogenarian is an accomplished politician.  Pretty much a “lifer” when it comes to politics.  That should be a warning sign and a clear strike against him as his past is right there for public consumption.  He’s got the experience since he’s done it for so long . . . good or bad . . . but, hey!  Surely there is some younger and fresher blood out there!  Also, his age is showing, as are all our ages.  It probably won’t get any better as time goes on.  He is a nice grandfatherly figure . . . but, really—is this the best that we can do?

 

Politics of any sort . . . suck.  Nasty business.  And this is what we have right now.  Not much of a choice.  It will come down to choosing the lesser of what many consider the “two evils”.  I’ll take grandfatherly over the one constantly being hauled before grand juries.

 

That is my political rant . . . and rant it was.  Probably didn’t make much sense, but I feel better.

 

Gas prices.  The oil companies succeeded in luring us asleep as they slowly lowered prices over the past few months.  Almost convinced us that they were “good”.  Now they are slapping us awake with the bleak reality of soaring prices at the pumps.  Some say that it is because the price of oil is up on the global scene.  Others have said that the warmer winter has seen an increase in the seasonal demand . . . that more people are driving.  Still others say it’s because the refineries are shifting from the winter blend to the summer blend . . . summer blend costs more to make, thus someone must eat the price of it all.  And there is the fact that OPEC is playing economic bully politics and holding back the supply.

 

Excuses, excuses, excuses!

 

All I know is that I’m nearing the point that I need to take out a second mortgage to be able to make my commute back and forth to work.  The savings that took months to achieve have been completely wiped out in a matter of weeks.  Do I buy into the causes suggested for this gas pump robbery?  Nope.  It is simple greed and power at play.  The companies and corporations keep getting richer while the masses feel the pinch.  That is the way of economics.  Economics is the real religion across the globe.

 

Which brings me to inflation.  The price of everything keeps going up.  A price increase in one area necessitates a price increase in another.  Tit for tat. Inflation is a human-made concept . . . a state of mind . . . a fantasy.  It makes no sense.  Technology and industrialization have made the products we buy supposedly cheaper and better.  Made it possible to save money for the expense of production, thus saving money for the consumer.  Yet, that loaf of bread bought in 1960 for 23 cents now costs $2.01 on the average in 2024.  None of us can barely afford to make a “wish sandwich”.

 

I don’t understand inflation.  All I know is that it is making life miserable and difficult.  I feel for those who have seen their lives squished and impossible by the rising cost of inflation.  I’ll blame the companies and corporations—the rich as they seem to be getting richer as inflation climbs.  Someone is profiting and it ain’t us people from the middle down.  It’s crazy.

 

Same goes for real estate.  As I near retirement the idea of moving to be closer to the grandchildren is a thought the wife and I have bounced around.  But who can afford it?  Since the pandemic real estate has become an unaffordable circus.  When the wife and I bought our house fifteen years ago, we probably paid more for it than it was worth.  At the time we could afford it.  Since then, it has tripled in value.  That’s wonderful.  Turned out to be a great investment.  The problem?  We can’t afford to purchase anything comparable . . . and trust me, it is not a mansion on Easy Street.  It is a fairly common and plain ranch house . . . very much middle class.  Housing is crazy expensive . . . unaffordable . . . and frustrating.  It would be close to financial ruin for us to move.  Inflation or greed?  I feel for those who are just starting out.  It is hard.

 

Wah!  Wah!  Wah!  I need more cheese!

 

The list could go on and on.  I’ve a few bones to pick when it comes to war.  The Ukraine . . . a world war with Russia that the world is letting little ol’ Ukraine fights for us.  It is a war that the world’s nations are happy to let them fight so we don’t have to.  War by proxy.  That is the American way, too.  History shows that as a nation there has only been approximately ten years that we have not either been at war or in a military conflict.  History will also show that we have funded lots of wars and military conflicts across the globe.  Israel’s war against Hamas—or is it the Palestinians—doesn’t seem to be much different.  We have dumped a whole bunch of moola into funding those wars that are supposedly not ours.

 

There has been a lot of destructive waste created by those two wars.  The mass destruction in material and human lives is disgraceful.  It will take generations and decades to recover and rebuild . . . if they can ever really recover from such devastation.  It is “black” mark against and on all of humanity.  Whole generations have been wiped out.  War—any war—is not good.  It goes against God’s desire and demand for love . . . to be God’s loving creation . . . God’s family.

 

Got to throw in there global warming or climate change—whatever you want to call it.  It is not a myth.  It is real.  The average temperature is rising every year and doing so quickly.  This has been one of the mildest and driest winters in Montana.  Even the old timers are getting anxious.  This is not normal.  Snow pack is at 87% when it is typically over 100% at this time of year.  Spring has sprung and it shouldn’t.  With the snow pack and moisture, we have gotten it is going to be a long summer of smoke and fires.

 

Since moving to Montana fifteen years ago, the state has moved into a growing drought.  Across the state the climate ranges from “abnormally dry” to “extreme drought”.  This winter isn’t going to improve it.  Hopefully we will get some late season blizzards and snowstorms.  Global warming and climate change are real.  It is not some fantasy of the liberals.  It is real . . . and it is scary the impact it is having.

 

At the same time, it has extended tourism in Montana.  With warmer weather the tourists have come . . . in droves.  The annual plague.  But I probably shouldn’t complain.  Tourism is big business in Montana.  Tourism provides 43,900 jobs.  Brings in 12.5 million visitors in a state that just has a little over a million inhabitants.  Those tourists spend 5.82 billion dollars while enjoying Big Sky Country.  It produces 315 million dollars in taxes for state and local governments.  Tourism is a big deal in Montana . . . but, boy, what a hassle.  Tourists . . . they are everywhere!  It has practically gotten to biblical proportions . . . like a locust plague.  Yet, they are a necessary crisis no matter how frustrating it is for us locals.

 

Whew . . . this is wearing me out.  The list could go on and on.  There’s plenty to whine about . . . to complain about.  I could rant about being privileged . . . immigration . . . other people whining . . . Republicans . . . Democrats . . . and, always, taxes.  There are gender issues.  Issues about personal freedom and the individual’s right to control their own bodies.  Shoot, I’m probably only scratching the surface, but the cheese is running out.  Whining without cheese is not the same.  It is just ungrateful belly aching.  I have had my say, and I feel better.  Much better. 

 

I have been told that I have that right.  Someone told me that it is “freedom of speech”.  Mokokoma Mokhonoana says, “Most people mostly use freedom of speech as freedom to bitch.”  Well, I have expressed my right.  At the same time, others have the freedom to not listen.  I imagine that will happen.  Yet, I feel better now that I’ve gotten it all off my chest . . . at least for a couple of months . . . after all, it is an election year.

 

In all honesty, my life is not so bad.  I have a wonderful wife who tolerates me . . . dogs that love me . . . a house over my head, food to eat, and a family that continues to amaze and grow . . . grandchildren that are a joy . . . and, I can still get out of bed on my own every morning despite all the complaining from my body.  Life is good.  Whether I believe it or not, I am blessed.  We all are.  If the truth be known, I would rather count my blessings.

 

Besides . . . there is no more cheese . . . and I feel good.