Old School....

 I've been hearing a lot in the news lately about AI and the fact that it will potentially replace many jobs that humans do now.  Since I am happily retired this does not concern me over much although I do wonder about the jobs of my children and grandchildren. 

Thinking back over jobs I have had, I realize that some could easily have been done by AI controlled robots.  For example, I saw a piece in the news last night about robot arms mixing and pouring drinks in a bar.  Lucky for me that technology wasn't around the summer I tended bar.  I had just moved to a new town and needed that job.

Then there was my first career as an elementary and middle school  art teacher.  I can imagine a robot rolling up and down the aisles, critiquing students' work, but I'm not sure how much work would actually get done, although the visual aids might be pretty spectacular.  Students in our area have already adapted to e-learning days when the weather is terrible, but according to a teacher I know, there isn't always a lot of work getting done because there aren't any parents home to supervise.  Maybe, in addition to the laptops that are provided to most students in our local school systems, homes could be provided with AI "teachers" to keep the children working??? 

Finally, let's consider real estate sales where I spent 25 years of my working life.  When I started that career, we were thrilled to have one little postage stamp size picture of a house for sale on our computers.  By the time I retired we could show clients virtual tours of many houses, saving endless hours of driving people from house to house.  Not really AI but a nice improvement in technology.        AI closings would be great. 

And yet, as I look back on those jobs I realize that what I enjoyed most in each of them was the interaction with people, real live people.  I think I may have retired just in time.

March Forth...

 I'm sorry to keep depending on my west coast brother for blog ideas but some are just too good to resist.  Today, for example, is "Marching Music Day."  Having spent many hours cheering on my children and then two of my grandchildren as they marched in parades and competitions, I feel qualified to write on the subject.  

Today is also "National Pound Cake Day" which surprisingly reminded me of a marching band incident I will never forget.  Actually the bands weren't involved, just some parents along the parade route. 

While my first husband and I stood watching the parade go by in a small town north of Fort Wayne I overheard this conversation on my right - 

Fat slob sitting in a strained folding chair to his harassed looking wife who had just walked up behind him "Did ja bring me a beer?"  Wife responds with a quiet "No."  Slob says "Well, go fetch!" and she turned away and walked submissively off.  

I saw red!  Who says 'fetch' to a person? I wanted to pound this throwback to the cave dwellers into a pulp.  Fortunately, my long suffering first wonder spouse, who had often accused me of being a closet 'women's libber' saw me seeing red and quiclky walked me away so I could cool off.  Thereby preventing a scene which would definitely have detracted from the parade and posssibly, gasp, embarassed our marching children.  Everyone knows how easily teenagers are embarassed by their parents.

"hand, hand, finger, thumb...."

 My west coast brother informed me earlier today that it is "What if Cats and Dogs had Opposable Thumbs Day/"  While my wonder spouse and I have had pets in the past, we don't now, but we do get plenty of entertainment value from the squirrels who frequent our bird feeders.

After witnessing one remarkable (and fairly chubby) squirrel perched on a feeder that we thought was completely out of reach, because it had a large squirrel guard protecting it, and was far away from every tree and bush, we began to wonder if squirrels have opposable thumbs.  It could explain some of their amazing gymnastics. So of course I did a little research. 

It turns out they do, kind of.  Squirrels have four long fingers and claws on each paw plus a small stiff digit - a vestigal or pseudo-opposable 'thumb.'  It's actually called a pollex. 

I wonder??? Could it be that our squirrels are a little more evolved than most?  If we could trap one (just catch and release for observation purposes of course, not for stew) I bet we would see that they have nice long pollexes.  It would explain so much.

good old stuff...

 My west coast brother informed me that today is "Old Stuff Day." Since I am now in my 81st year, it will come as no surprise that I have accumulated an abundance of old stuff.  Even after downsizing twice and having an estate sale I still have old stuff.

But sometimes old stuff isn't all that bad.  Last year one of my granddaughters saw a sweater I had pulled out of the closet, thinking I might donate it.  She declared it "vintage" and asked if she could have it.  Of course I said yes, and gave her two more besides.

Just this week the same granddaughter told me that she is still using a handmade blanket that my west coast sister-in-law made for me over 40 years ago.  I had let her take it to college.  She and her boyfriend spread it out on the floor to relax on while eating popcorn and watching TV.  Just what it was made for.  

And even better, thinking about old things, yesterday my wonder spouse and I delivered an old but still beautiful maple rocking chair to my grandson and his very expectant wife.  The baby is due any time now and it gives me a happy glow to think about him being rocked to sleep in the same rocker in which my mother rocked me and my younger brothers to sleep.  I also put a lot of rocking miles on that chair when my babies came along.

Isn't it good that some old stuff just gets better with age?  

What's in a name?

 My westcoast brother has informed me that today is "Namesake Day."

By defination, a namesake is a person or thing that has the same name as another. There is a line in Psalm 23 (King James Version) "He leads me in paths of righteousness for His namesake."

I've always enjoyed hearing people's stories of how they were named. I was named after my mother's father's favorite sister.  I always liked that story except for the part where she died when she was 12 years old.

Sometimes people get a little carried away with certain names. For example my brother, first husband and son were all named Tom or some variation of that name.  My second husband has the same name as his brother-in-law and nephew.  It can get confusing at family gatherings.

Names and naming practices change with the years.  When my son was born we named him Thomas and called him Tommy.  Interestingly, my first husband's legal name was Tommy and a cousin of mine born the same year had the legal name of Jimmy,  I think it was a fad at that time.  My father was named after his father, but with three middle names added.  These were the names of his three uncles.  Happily. my west coast brother was able to name two of his sons from that pool of names.  

I clearly remember a day when I was in our front yard with baby Tommy and a neighbor lady I didn't know well, while pushing her baby in a stroller, stopped and asked me what my baby's name was.  When I told her it was Tommy, she responded "Oh, that's a very common name."  I then asked her what her baby's name was and she said "Jason."  I laugh at this now because all through his school years my Tommy, later Thomas, was the only Thomas in his class while there were always three or four Jasons.  I guess it was a popular name in 1971.

My advice, name your children with care.  If all goes well, they are going to be stuck with that name for a long long time.

 

a cautionary tale...

 I generally like to write fun, light hearted articles for this blog, but my experience today must be shared.

The day started off early, but very well, with a church bus ride to a Presbytery meeting in Indianapolis.  The ride was uneventful and the meeting was good, providing those in attendance with up-to-date information about what's going on in the Presbyterian church regionally and nationally.  In addition one of my good friends experienced her 'examination for ordination,' a Q&A session in which she answered a variety of questions from random members of the gathering (almost all of whom were ministers).  I am happy to report that she did very well and has been approved for ordination.  She has already been called to be the pastor of a local Presbyterian church, and will be installed there later this spring. 

That was the good part of the day.  On the way home, driving north from Indy on I69, traffic slowed to a halt, and we sat in our bus not moving for more than an hour. Then gradually we could crawl along at about 5 miles per hour, left lane only open.  People checking their phones learned that there had been an accident involving a semi and a car. I was sitting on the right side of the bus so I had a view of everything.  At one point a huge tow truck, suitable for towing a semi, passed us on the right.  We could all guess where he was headed.  Finally, finally we passed the site of the accident.  Before I realized it, I was looking at the car involved in the accident.  It looked like a lump of charcoal.  I hope and pray that whoever was in that car got out before it burned and I grieve for everyone involved (including the first responders) and the families of all those involved.  

Please think of this, say some prayers, and drive a little more carefully when you're out and about, for your sake and for the sake of all those who love you.

travel ideas

 My wonder spouse and I are going on a rather long cruise and family visit in May.  I know that's still months away but something came up recently that made me think about luggage security. 

A friend told us the story of her suitcase (bright red and easy to spot) getting "lost" when they landed at an airport in a European country, along with the luggage of several other travelers.  I don't remember which country, they have travelled extensively.  Since they were planning to spend two weeks in the city where they had landed, and she really needed her clothes, she went back to the airport the day after they had arrived.  Still no sign of her suitcase.  On the next day she went back again.  This time she found her suitcase just sitting out in the open, unattended, in a cluster of about a hundred suitcases.  

Even though she had filed the requisite paperwork and turned it in at the airport, no one had contacted her to tell her her luggage had arrived.  When she asked one of the workers what happened to all of these suitcases if no one was notified that they had arrived.  The answer "Oh, we just auction them off."  

My friend's story had a happy ending, but it did remind me of the time I had a suitcase stollen in the Seattle airport and never got it back.  Coincidentally, in a conversation today with another well traveled friend I learned about Air Tags (available from Amazon for about $20).  These little tags can be placed inside your luggage and allow you to use your phone to track your luggage if it doesn't arrive at your destination.  

Granted, it may not be much help to know that your suitcase is in Aruba if you're in Detroit, but at least you'll know your clothes are having a wonderful time.  I think I will gift my wonder spouse with some Air Tags before our May trip.