Last of the Tile is In

Last of the floor tile is in. I only had to cut the single tile on the right three times to get it to fit. I'm not very good at this.

Next is grouting, of course, followed by cleaning up the threshold between the tile and the carpet. Tiny things to do. Then the drywall on the wall between the bathroom and study have to come down because I've got to insulate the wall and run some ethernet cable through it while I've got things torn up on that side.

No one really seems to care, though. Boys reluctantly helped me retrieve a few tools, but made it seem like a burden.

An Innocent, I Hope

 

This is either an innocent or a sign of the times we live in.

Maybe history class happened and he wasn't paying attention. Or he lived somewhere where these kinds of things just weren't taught.

I really hope it's an innocent, and that he or she went on to learn from this public mistake and realized that the KKK epitomized evil.

If not, I continue to weep for the species.

Thoughts on Talent and the Abundance of

Earlier this week, Maaike gave me this chalk drawing Marina did of me as a toddler.

First, hark at that '70s collar. You can see by the date it was 1974. Maybe this explains my natural attraction to plaid, though I have to say my collars don't flare like that anymore.

I'm trying to find a picture frame to put it in, as I don't want it sitting in a drawer somewhere -- you can see the fold it has in it already.

Another problem: I have absolutely no wall space to put this on in the study. Too many bookshelves. Which is a third-world problem to be sure.

I love that I have this art from my sister, who passed about a year ago. She had a lot of talent in art and in music. I wish she'd done more with it. And that sets me to thinking: What am I doing with the talent I've been given? Aside from blog posts, not all that much, I'm afraid. I need to do better.

Will the Real Brian Davidson Stand Up?

News item: ChatGPT hallucinates that a Norwegian man was guilty of killing his two boys.

From the story:

Mr Holmen was given the false information after he used ChatGPT to search for: "Who is Arve Hjalmar Holmen?"

The response he got from ChatGPT included: "Arve Hjalmar Holmen is a Norwegian individual who gained attention due to a tragic event.

"He was the father of two young boys, aged 7 and 10, who were tragically found dead in a pond near their home in Trondheim, Norway, in December 2020."

Mr Holmen said the chatbot got their age gap roughly right, suggesting it did have some accurate information about him.

I wondered, if course, if there were someone with a similar name who had indeed been involved in a similar crime, but searched using his full name now bring up hundreds of versions of the same ChatGPT story, so my assumpiton -- and it could be wrong -- is that no such crime exists in connection with the guy's name. The intelligence seems to have been hallucinating.

I thought I'd try the same thing to see what ChatGPT could find -- or hallucinate -- on me. Here's the first try:

I can't vouch for everything here, but it seems accurate.

I thought I'd better narrow the search, seeing as there is a prominent person with my name. Here's the second try:

Here, I start to show up, but barely. I am indeed an online adjunct instructor as mentioned, but the rest of the information ChatGPT presents here doesn't apply to me.

There is a Brian Davidson who country dances, so that appears to be true. He may also be associated with the TikTok account.

And there is a Brian Davidson who is a school district administrator, but he's in Kennewick, Washington -- my request on "Idaho" should have filtered him out.

Here's for the third try:

This, I have to say, is accurate, though not current.

I was Scoutmaster, but no longer. And I do recall asking the question regarding John Adams Parkway on a city Facebook post.

So while ChatGPT isn't hallucinating at all in these three attempts, it took a bit of work to narrow the search down to me, and what information is presented is accurate if not current, though woefully incomplete. The incompleteness is likely due to me not commenting much on my full-time job.

Something else I just thought of: I'm surprised the LLM didn't find the other Brian Davidson who's also local, with a criminal record. Maybe that's a sign those records are still in areas the makers of these LLM can't scrape. I know he exists because I've met him, and had his reputation follow me when I was renewing my drivers license and the police showed up, looked at me, and said, "Oh, that's not him."

So can we trust large language whatsises to produce the truth? Maybe. But clearly what the engines produce should not be taken at face value.

I'm going to share this with my students.

Closing in on the Floor

This is always an exciting part of tile laying to me -- getting the fringe and end bits installed once the main floor is put in. That's risky, because I have to make sure the pieces fit before I get all excited with the thinset, but in this case, it's worked.

I did run into two boo-boos, one of which you can see in the lower right of the photo. I had to clean the thinset off the floor and out of the spot because the fitment wasn't as right as I was hoping. But I am very close to having the floor ready for grouting. Exciting times.

And yes I love playing with tape. The tape patches on the fringe tile helped me get the right tile in the right spot, and the trapezoid showed me where it was safe to stand. As you can see, this is a small bathroom but the diamond pattern we opted for made laying the floor a lot more complicated, but I think we'll be happy with the end result.

My Soul Delighteth in the Song of the Heart

We read this tonight in our Gospel Doctrine lesson:

"For my soul delighteth in the song of the heart; yea, the song of the righteous is a prayer unto me, and it shall be answered with a blessing upon their heads." (Doctrine and Covenants 25:12)

The writers of the lesson ask us to ponder which are our "songs of the heart," through which the Spirit has spoken to us. They suggested we sing a few as a family.

To tease me, my wife started singing "Give Said the Little Stream," as that's a song I referenced often in lessons with our kids when they were younger. It's certainly a song that speaks to me; one that is a song of the heart.

I have others, of course. I'm highly, spiritually, succeptible to songs of the heart. Many speak to me, some in ways I can't really explain.

This one has always been dear to me, and became more dear after I served a mission in France and learned it was written by a medieval Frenchman, also seeking to come closer to God through song:

If ever a song of the heart wants to make me leap out of my chair and shout, it's this one, though by the fourth verse I'm melting and can hardly sing anymore:

Jehovah speaks! Let earth give ear,

And Gentile nations turn and live.

His mighty arm is making bare,

His mighty arm is making bare

His cov’nant people to receive.

This one, I truly believe, will be sung as an intercessory prayer in Heaven as God watches his children struggle on Earth, working to find their way home.

And there's this one. Probably not on many lists of songs of the heart, but a certain lyric blasted through my teenage worries and the sound of a brick saw to slap me -- spiritually -- right in the heart as I worried about being worthy enough to serve a mission.

The song said to me. I took the steps to become worthy.

Thanks, Weird Al.

I'm just saying through all the backhanded gallantries the lyrics possess, that line "You're not perfect, but I love you anyhow" was God speaking to a young but weary heart. So this song is indeed a song of my heart.

A Whirlwind 24 Hours . . .

Ellen Yost Griffin, 83, of Iona, Idaho, passed away at Rigby Lake Assisted Living Center on Friday, March 21, 2025, from complications of Alzheimer’s Disease.

Ellen was born on October 27, 1941, in her Grandmother Yost’s house in Springdale, Idaho, to Orlin Carl Yost and Margie Ardell Kunzler Yost. She was the oldest of six sisters. She grew up in Yost, Brigham City, and Ogden, Utah, and recalled spending many summer months living with her grandma and grandpa Yost, learning to cook and fish.

She married Wayne J Griffin in the Salt Lake City, Utah, LDS Temple on May 12, 1961. They lived in West Weber, Utah, where she worked as head bookkeeper of the Ogden First Federal Bank, for the Internal Revenue Service, and then back again to Ogden First Federal where she became the head of their computer department.

She had three children, Nori, Carl, and Michelle. They participated in many family events from learning to water ski, riding snowmobiles, to many other outings.

In 1977, they moved to Iona, Idaho, to work at and buy into Yost Office Systems, operated by her Uncle Willis Yost. She trained people to use various word processing equipment from Vydec, Wang, and others. She traveled throughout Idaho, Utah, and Wyoming training others to use the equipment. She later moved on to more administrative work in the company. They bought the company in 1982 with Bruce Jones, Jack Larsen, and Bruce Newbold. They sold the business in 1995.

She was active in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints from her youth, recalling work in road shows, Primary, Relief Society, and the Young Women organization. She and her husband also served for more than two years on missions to the Washington, D.C., LDS Temple.

She wrote this about her time spent working and playing with her husband Wayne: “He has been a good provider and leader in our house. We have had a good friendship and marriage to begin with, and then we have been blessed with financial opportunities and the health to work and be active in the church. I am very conscious of all my Creator has given to me.”

She is survived by her husband Wayne of Iona; daughter Nori (Kevin) Brower of Rigby; son Carl (Tani) Griffin of Payson, Utah; daughter Michelle (Brian) Davidson of Ammon; eight grandchildren; 11 great-grandchildren and one on the way; and her sisters Oleatta McFarland of Riverdale, Utah; Donell (John) Bowles of Plain City, Utah; Renee (Wallace) Vernieuw of Layton, Utah; Jeannie (Kim) Webber of Meridian, Idaho;  and Penny (Paul) Manning of Idaho Falls.

She was preceded in death by her parents, and two brothers who died at birth.

The family would like to express its thanks to the caregivers at Rigby Lake Assisted Living, BRiO Home Health and Hospice, Teton Healthcare, Eastern Idaho Regional Medical Center, Chanse Powell, and longtime friends Mike and Bernie Olsen for their caring service and love for Ellen.

Tile is Cut (Almost)

I felt pretty useless after work today, and since March had blessed us with a bit of sun, I got the tile saw out and cut almost all of the tile I need to cut for the bathroom floor. I may have some fine-tuning to do, but I'll figure that out after I get the floor cleaned and can start fitting the tile better.

This in no way gets me close to putting the toilet and sink back, but it's part of the process. Next will be taking down some drywall, doing a little electrical work, network cable running, and insulation -- I want some insulation in the wall between the bathroom and the study. Then there's a tile backsplash to put into place, but we haven't picked the tile for that job yet.

The "Official" Stupid -- It Burns

The official stupid coming from the Department of Energy is so toxic it burns. 

Two Styles of Waiting, Explained by 'The Princess Bride'

Update: It has not come to pass, alas.

And dammit.

More vagueblogging, which is my right as an American.

I am waiting, yes. Waiting for news. I'm at the point where no news may actually be slightly better than news that comes via email, which is almost always bad news.

I'm waiting like Inigo Montoya is waiting:

The only other way to wait is like Vizzini himself, but I don't yet have the confidence for that:

I keep stacking up reasons for the thing I'm hoping happens. Yesterday was a hard front on that, and though today has been better, it's not been anxiety-free. Anxiety is normally something I can cope with, but I'm getting tired of this particular brand of anxiety. Hoping something positive happens soonish.