Anti-Hoarding Activities Continue

What do you do when you're between student Zoom conferences, you're caught up with grading, and you really don't have time between conferences to do much of anything?

You watch a little Matt's Off-Road on YouTube.

You combat your hoarder tendencies by scanning water and sanitation bills for the last decade so you can toss the paper records.

You wonder if getting that masters degree was worth what you're doing with it now.

You research doctorate programs, because what the heck.

And I love how my phot captures an image of me on the computer screen taking a photo of the whole thing.

AI was Finally *Good* for Something

So today, doing the crossword at Vox, this arose:

Of course, I had no idea what it meant. But I'm not always au courant with the lingo, so I thought I'd do an internet search.

If It hadn't been for artificial intelligence, I think I would have come up empty. This is what I found out:

I don't know that AI really knew this was linked to a crossword -- maybe it does now, because I hesitate to believe I was the only one who searched the term today. So it could only do what it could: Guess.

Which led me to a startling conclusion: AI was finally *good* for something. Never thought I'd see the day.

A Week of Light Edits

So this has been my experience this week at work.

Along with something else: I thought it was seasonal depression sneaking in a little early, but I'm convinced now it's Ol' Mr. Satan coming in and stirring the pot while I'm feeling exhausted and overwhelmed.

So some prayers for me, folks, would be in order. Because I'm still a decade out of retirement, and I'm too damn old to find a different job.

Manhood for Amateurs

 

Currently reading Manhood for Amateurs by Michael Chabon. It's a collection of essays focusing, loosely, on the then-vs-now Chabon sees.

I don't know what I expected from this book, but I had hoped it was going to be less Old Man Yells at Cloud than it's turning out to be.

Not that I don't think he has a point, say, about the adultification of LEGOs, or the general absence of kids playing outdoors together these days. I myself have yelled at those particular clouds.

Yelling ought to engender solutions. I don't see any here.

A friend posted this on my Facebook thread wherein I raise the question:

There was only one response that seemed appropriate:

I have to confess that I've read more since my initial reaction, and this book is growing on me.

You Can Retire When You're Dead

My brother Albert retired this year, and I'm insanely jealous.

And I look at the calendar: Ten years. Maybe 8 or 9 years. But it seems like forever.

I guess there is some good news. We owe less than $40,000 on the house; $38,744 and some pennies if you want something more exact. We owe about $12,000 on a Honda Ridgeline, and aside from that, just incidental credit card debt. Only one of our three kids is living with us at the moment, and he's so low maintenance it's hardly noticeable.

So we could be in worse shape. Nevertheless, I feel a Violet Beauregarde song coming on:

I'm tired of being beholden to a boss.

I used to work for the weekends. Now I live for them, and the longer I can make them last, the better.

I was sick a few weeks ago and took two days off work. That, combined with the four-day Labor Day weekend felt like V-E Day. And we're headed into the holiday season, which means some more time off and the perennial favorite: Seasonal depression, which I sense is starting a bit early this year if my attention span and desire to do much of anything is any indication.

Could potentially be a long eight or nine years . . . 

20 September 2026

20 September 2026

Dear Isaac,

Coming at you with more exciting action from Dad Land. . .

. . .

I got to see three trees cut down and shatter when they hit the asphalt in front of Lexi and Keaton’s house. That was probably the highlight of the week. If you remember, they have that birch tree in the front yard, like the one we have. Except theirs was a lot older, thicker, and completely dead. They had a few members of their ward come over Saturday with chainsaws, some rope, and a four-wheeler so they could take the tree down, which had three trunks.

One guy was working on the trunks, one at a time, and the rest of us – Keaton, me, and two other guys – were in charge of watching the trunk he was working on for any wobbling. When he finally had enough cut through we hollered. The guy with the chainsaw ran and we all watched as the tree fell to the street and shattered. At least the upper, skinny branches shattered. The trunks themselves were heavy and wet and took a lot of cutting and lugging to get them moved around. I wish I had taken pictures, but I was a bit preoccupied making sure nobody got squashed.

So when they had one tree down, the guy started pretty much immediately on the next one. One other guy with a chainsaw started cutting up the fallen trunk while the rest of us gathered up the debris and occasionally cautioned neighbors about parking their cars too close to the death zone. There was one trunk that, when it shattered, I thought for sure was going to smack parts into a car parked nearby, but nothing happened.

After the trees were down and we were mopping up, I talked with the guy who was cutting the trees down and said, “Wow, looks like you’ve done this a time or two,” because the trees dropped perfectly and didn’t even hit their mailbox, which I thought was going to be toast at one time. He laughed and said, “Nope, first time.” So a very confident person, to be sure.

We had the trees down and the debris collected and stacked in Keaton’s driveway in an hour.

A week or to before that, I got a call – missed one, actually – from a lady that Liam and I are ministers for. I’ll confess when the call came in I was glad I missed it. She’s a nice enough lady, but a little needy. I think you went with me to her house once, Dottie Murdock. We gave her a blessing. And a few more after that. So when she called I really didn’t want to call her back. But because I’m trying to be a better person, I did call her back. Turns out she was stuck with her van with a flat tire, a couple of miles from home. Liam and I loaded up to go see what we could do, but all the way there I was wishing you’d been there as well, as you’ve got more automotive experience than Liam and I put together. We found her and got the tire lug nuts loosened, but she was getting a little antsy so I had Liam take her and her son home, because they had things they needed to do, while I stayed to finish swapping out the tire. Of course the tire hadn’t been off the van in ages so it was really rusted to the hub. I pounded on it with my fists and gave it quite a few good kicks, but it wasn’t budging. I called Liam to bring a mallet and some other tools, but I remembered how much you struggled with the tire on your Expedition.

So there in the parking lot of a church on 12th Street, I said a prayer. I was a little cranky, but I did say to God that I didn’t really know what I was doing and asked for help in getting the tire off. As I finished the prayer, I could see a guy walking up the street. I didn’t think much of it, and kept kicking the tire. Next thing I knew the guy was there and ready to help. He checked first to make sure I had all the lug nuts off – I guess I looked a little slow, and I don’t blame him for checking. Turns out he used to work at a tire shop. Gave the tire one kick and it popped right off, and we had the donut spare on in less than a minute.

He said he was running an errand, and that ordinarily he’d have taken his car to do so, but for some reason he decided to walk instead. I figured right there God had prepared him to help, either me or just Dottie had I not taken the call. I’m glad I was there.

So I drove her van to her house, and had Liam meet me there. On the way, I could tell there were more problems with the van than just tires – the tire we took off was almost bald, with some of the bands showing through the  rubber. As I was driving I actually stopped to make sure the emergency brake wasn’t on. It wasn’t, but I limped the van to Dottie’s house. When I got there, she said she knew she needed a brake job, and that was clear. So over the next few days I talked with Brother Shaw from the Elders’ Quorum, and he got us connected with a ward member who does repairs. He’s got her brakes fixed now, and we’re trying to find her some used tires.

Just goes to show that God uses whatever tools He has at his disposal, even if one of those “tools” is a cranky old guy who had to have help to get the job finished. I’m just glad I didn’t ignore the call; I would have felt bad, and I know I would have disappointed Father in Heaven if I hadn’t.

Anyway, that’s my amazing story. Hope you’re having a good mission.

Love, Dad

Again, Mr. Fixit

Today, Michelle handed me a sheaf of papers to run through the shredder and I remembered - the shredder was broken.

I don't quite know what happened to it, but the paper entry slot was jammed up with shredded paper and I couldn't get any more to go in.

So being the cheap bastard that I am, I unplugged the thing, took it apart, and poked at it with a small screwdriver until I got the jammed paper cleaned out.

Luckily, I got the thing put back together properly and it works. So I was able to shred.

I know, stupid story. But I have to take the little victories when I can get them.

"You Don't Need Regulation to Stop Typing"

Yanno, I don't know what to think when it comes to artificial intelligence.

I do know I'd rather not see my students use it to write every assignment they turn in. But part of me also thinks AI could have some good uses.

Where we run into trouble is where human neuroses and, well, that little green monster (Pugsley) comes into play: Greed.

So I love what YouTuber Patrick Boyle says in this video after he first explains how AI brought a bit too much ersatz human emotion into the mix and decided it needed to cheat before it was found to be "poisoned" and be shut down or whatever.

First, the video:

After this debacle, it seems the heads of three major US AI players have asked for government regulation. But Boyle points out a few things I thought were interesting:

"An agreement between the dominant firms in an industry to limit output and hold back competition already has a name: It's a cartel. And anti-trust law exists specifically to stop cartels, because restricting output happens to be the perfect way to protect the profits of the market leaders and pull the ladder up after them."

So sure. Regulation *could* be used as a curtailment. Or as a curtailment against any competition as these big companies figure out in a continued safe space how to be profitable outside of accounting tricks.

Just an interesting thought as AI companies seek "regulation" before AI does something worse that what's discussed in this video when, as Boyle says, "You don't need regulation to stop typing."

Also important:

This helps explain the problem.

The cynic in me has alarm bells going off.

Things That are Fun

1. Threads links showing up in Facebook that are unreadable in full unless I download another app. Which I am not going to do.

2. People who insist the oddities you're pointing out in their work weren't there when they sent it to you, but you confirm after the fact that yes, indeed, the oddities were there from the start.

3. Finding oddities in your own work.

4. Seasonal depression.

5. That dream I had Wednesday night that I will not describe further except to mention it started with me soiling my trousers.*

6. Finally getting a few nights where I had confirmed REM sleep.

7. Watching two of my children deal with identity theft. Thanks, JC Penney information technology folks.

*I kept pooping and pooping and pooping and had NO WAY of disposing of any of it. I tried to hide some of it in my coat and used some handfuls of it to repel the curious but eventually found a tall building I could poop from onto the populace below. The dream disturbed me so much I woke up to confirm a) I had not indeed pooped my pants, and b) The dogs had not pooped the bed.

Maybe Take Your Own Advice

 

So I finished reading Ben Carson's "Take the Risk," and I echo my previous comment that the book is strange.

He really does gloss over the value that assets and connections have in taking risks. Especially in the latter half of the book as he discusses his ideas of risk analysis (which I think is valuable, so the book isn't a total waste) I don't get the feeling that he considers the assets and connections he has in making his risk analysis a lot easier to answer than those of the unwashed masses in similar situations.

In part of the book he discusses the idea of taking one's self out of the middle of risk analysis to help some decisions be more rational. That's something he certainly needed to do more of as he wrote this book. Taking himself out and bringing in more real-life examples from people less advantaged as him might make his risk analysis look a lot different to him.

Anyway, this is a good book on the general concept of risk-taking and risk analysis, but it's got enough flaws I don't think I can really recommend it.