Jeffrey D. Tharp's Blog, page 5

I’m not there yet…

I want to like artificial intelligence. I was an early adopter of things like the Blackberry and iPhone, tablet computers, and Blu-ray disks. Getting my hands on new tech was thrilling. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t toned that down considerably. I still like having neat new hardware, but tech like Generative Pre-trained Transformers (GPT) and the raft of other AI platforms feels somewhere between overwhelming and terrifying.

Technology is advancing at an unprecedented pace. Innovations are not only frequent but also increasingly complex. GPT, for example, is built on sophisticated machine learning models that can generate human-like text. This level of complexity can be daunting, even for those who have always embraced new technologies. The rapid pace means there’s less time to acclimate and understand each new development.

Earlier technologies, though innovative, were often more transparent and easier to understand. In contrast, many modern AI systems, including GPT, operate as “black boxes.” Their decision-making processes are opaque, making it difficult to comprehend how they work or predict their behavior. It’s a classic example of AI being asked a question, something magic happening, and the system spitting out an answer on the other side. 

Throw in a healthy dose of skepticism about how easy these systems will be to control or how well privacy is being protected and I feel like I’m increasingly in danger of turning into the old man standing in his front yard shaking his fist at a cloud. Maybe I’ve just finally gotten old enough that I’ll never be entirely comfortable again in a world so deeply different than the one I was born into. I want to like this stuff. It’s fascinating and I expect it’s fully going to run the world in the future… but every time I fiddle with it, I’m left feeling just a bit uneasy.

I really do want to like AI. I think it’s clearly the next stage of our technological development. I want to like it, but I’m just not there yet.

What Annoys Jeff this Week?

1. Portion size. For most of my life, I’ve ignored the “recommended serving size” listed on most products. All it ever told me is that I identify as a family of four for purposes of meal prep. The reality is the serving size listed for most things is honestly absurd. Have you ever really measured out a single ounce of peanuts? It’s way, way less than an adult male hand full. An ounce of cheese? That’s something like a 1×1 inch cube. A serving size apparently isn’t half a package of bacon. Want a sandwich? Yeah, that’s “one serving” for each slice of bread. Utter bullshit that in the year of our lord two thousand twenty four, we haven’t come up with a consequence free way to eat the tasty food.

2. Never being satisfied. Sitting in the office doing stuff that I plainly have the capability of doing while sitting in the comfort of my sunroom remains pretty much infuriating. Look, I know that being in the office once or twice a week – in comparison to the five days a week that was the norm in the olden days – is a huge step in the right direction. Yet on those days when I have to put on pants and drive the 40 minutes to sit in fluorescent splendor, it all feels completely ridiculous. I don’t expect to see another revolution in office affairs in my lifetime, but having seen what could have been – what should have been – how we’re forced to operate “just because” feels entirely absurd.

3. Trash Tech. At one time Trash Tech was a reasonably well-respected trash company. Their cans were thick in the neighborhood on trash day. When I sold the truck and opted to hire a service, they were the top of the list. It was a horrible mistake. In the one month I maintained service with them there wasn’t a single day when pickup happened on its scheduled day. For two out of four weeks there was no pickup at all. Our business relationship was terminated for cause pretty quickly and that’s where the drama really started. Because I was “under contract” for three months of service, they wouldn’t come retrieve their containers until the end of that period – which would have been the end of March. For the last two and a half months, their cans continued to sit here. Finally tired of calling their customer service number, I opted for the far more humorous option of invoicing them for two months of storage and advising of the administrative fee that would be imposed at the end of June if I had to arrange alternative removal and disposal of their equipment. Sometime this morning, their cans finally disappeared. Sadly, the invoice remains unpaid. 

Questionable indicators…

The cool thing to do now is bitch and complain that inflation has made everything too expensive. Social media is full of discussions about the cost of everything. It’s one of the news media’s favorite topics when they have a few extra minutes or column inches to fill. I can’t remember the last time I went a day without seeing at least one passing reference to inflation and “out of control prices.”

Everyone is bitching that everything is too expensive, but every time I leave the house, I find that the shops are packed. The restaurants are packed. The roads are packed. There are scads of people crawling all over everything from morning til night. It doesn’t feel like the kind of behavior you’d see if everyone was trying to watch their pennies.

I’m left to wonder if it’s just the “very online” people who are broke (or at least keeping the narrative alive), because the sentiment isn’t matching my lived experience and personal observations. Given that Cecil County isn’t exactly an economically well-off region you’d think it’s something that should be noticeable. Maybe it’s just me being unreasonable, but it seems to me if there’s no money and everything is too damned expensive, more people would stay home.

It feels like consumer sentiment might just be a shit economic indicator. Chalk it up to another reason why I just don’t trust people as a group. I’ll be a lot more worried about the economy when people stop buying $1000 cell phones and I don’t have to wait in a line ten people deep at the local fast food spot.  

What Annoys Jeff this Week?

1. Questionable aesthetic decisions. I drive past the house I rented when I first got back to Maryland every couple of weeks. I was dumbfounded to find that the current owner ripped off the large deck and planted a prefab garage in its place. It’s not just something simple that compliments the size of the house. Oh no. It’s a massive thing that overshadows the house completely. It doesn’t just look out of proportion with the property. but completely out of character for the neighborhood. It’s the kind of thing I’d lose my mind over if I had to look at it from next door. HOAs aren’t always ideal, but there’s absolutely a reason I’m ok with my local committee having to chop on any project that would alter the front facing profile of the houses here in my current hood. They may be the devil, but they’re the devil that will keep a neighbor from plunking down a massive steel building in their front yard. Sometimes that just has to be good enough.

2. Being old people. I unexpectedly found myself in attendance at a concert last Thursday. I couldn’t help but notice, when looking around the venue, that I was surrounded by “old people.” Old people who also knew that Chris Barron was the lead singer for Spin Doctors, a band who cut a swath through the early 1990s, and who remember his biggest two or three songs playing nonstop on radio and MTV. As it turns out it’s me. I’m “old people.” It was an unsettling moment of realization, even if sharing a very small venue with a guy whose music marked a pretty significant period in your life was a decidedly cool experience.

3. Self-denial. I’ve learned, over the last year, to go about the day in some varied state of hunger. Some days, I barely think about eating and don’t notice it. Other days, though, all I want to do is gorge on anything I can possibly get my hands on. Those days are the absolute worst, because falling off my particular wagon is no more than a quick walk to the refrigerator or pantry away. Self-denial has never been one of my unique gifts, so on days when hunger really sets in, it’s an all-day fist fight. They don’t hit as often as the used to, but when they show up, damned if they’re not brutal. 

A roll of the dice…

You’d think that after nine days off, I’d have been rested, relaxed, and at least nominally prepared to go back to work. All those things might have been true on Sunday night, but on Monday morning exactly none of them are true. Wading in to the week deep backlog of email pretty much put an end to any opportunity for good feeling that could have bled over into the work week. Funny how that works.

One of the skills I’ve mostly mastered over the years is leaving the “work stuff” safely at work. I’ve been doing it so long now that I can even do it when the work stuff resides, for more days than not, in my home office. Once the lid on the laptop closes at the end of the day, it might as well cease to exist. It’s honestly a helpful mental trick if you can manage it. 

Unfortunately, because I like getting paid and would absolutely suck at living under a bridge or in a refrigerator box, eventually I have to start paying attention again – or at least I do for the next 11 years or so. Even so, it’s getting increasingly difficult to keep up the appearance that everything is a Big Serious Issue just because someone at echelons higher than reality says it is. 

Look, I get it that most everyone wants to believe whatever they spend their time doing is the changing the world or saving the universe. It’s comforting, but objectively it’s almost never the case.  On an average day, the average person working themselves into a lather doesn’t do much besides raise their own blood pressure.

In any case, I’m back at work for the next few weeks… and keeping my mouth from calling out every bit of fuckery I see seems like it’s going to be the project of the summer. How well that will work really is a roll of the dice at this point. 

What Annoys Jeff this Week?

1. Fasting. As if the unremitting diet isn’t bad enough then there’s the periodic bloodwork that must be done while fasting. How in the year 2024 has science not progressed to the point where a man can both have breakfast and know his cholesterol simultaneously. I swear, for all our fancy scans and computer enhanced diagnostics, we feel about two steps removed from casting bones and reading entrails sometimes.

2. No plans. We’ve reached the point in the year where I traditionally start burning off vacation time. The catch is, I used to take my time off and go places and see interesting parts of the world… or at least go sit on a beach receiving a heavy dose of sand and rum. It’s been a good long time since I’ve done that. I bought a house, a couple of vehicles, ended up with a few pets that I hate the thought of being separated from and suddenly it’s been a decade since I’ve been any further away than a quick road trip lasting no more than a couple of nights. Oh, I’ll go scouting for some books, do a bit of TV binging, and be absolutely thrilled about not being tethered to work in any way, but there’s part of me that wishes I was headed off somewhere exotic next week, just to get a proper change of scenery.

3. Everything else. In addition to the traditional beginning of annual leave season, it’s also that time of year when where I get unreasonably angsty and out of sorts about nearly everything as my birthday closes in. At this point it’s no longer just a glitch, but a feature of the last few weeks of May every year. Look, especially this year, I appreciate the arrival of another birthday as a sure sign that I managed not to drop dead, but it’s still a stinging reminder of how much I haven’t gotten done – and how much grows increasingly unlikely to ever get done as the years crack on at what feels like an increasingly frenetic pace. I know my mood will improve once I get through next weekend… for now though, you’d best think of me as decidedly surly. If I were a sign, I’d be brightly painted “approach with caution.”

At work (but not really)…

Look, I am nominally “at work” this week. There are a couple of days where I’ll even schlep into our very own version of fluorescent-lit cubicle hell to prove that I’m doing my job for the man. With that said, I think it’s only fair to point out that while I may be physically present, my brain is already deeply plugged in to the vacation time that I’ll be taking next week. 

As I cast my thoughts back to 2023, I seem to remember every time I took some time off leading to some new and unpleasant medical issue popping up. As we approach leave taking season 2024, I very much would like to believe that trend can’t possibly continue. I’d like to not spend the lion’s share of this year’s vacation time not sprawled on the couch or hanging out with new doctors. 

After whetting my whistle for down time this past Friday, I’m honestly checked out.

This week is already off to a stupid start, with something I thought I put nicely to bed last Thursday before I logged off for the long weekend raising its ugly head while I was otherwise occupied. I suppose I shouldn’t be in any way surprised that it’s only after something should have been done, finished, and over that the great and the good have decided to start paying attention to it. Ass backwards seems to be the only way we ever really do anything.

I know this is just another work week, but I’m absolutely going to need people to ratchet back their expectations to the absolutely bare minimum – and then maybe go just a little bit lower. Short of someone walking over to my desk and literally setting me on fire, I’m going to have a hell of a hard time finding the motivation this week. All I’m saying is that if there’s something you need from me – and you want it done with any level of attention to detail – maybe wait until we get into June. Otherwise, you’re going to get what you get and I’ll make no apologies. 

What Annoys Jeff this Week?

1. 120 pounds down. I’m still waiting on that long promised “you’ll feel so much better” moment. I’m sure, intellectually, that my innards are theoretically better than they were 100 pounds ago, but it’s just not translating to anything especially tangible. I know this wasn’t the kind of thing that would show instantaneous results, but after almost a year the whole thing feels like about the biggest scammy letdown I can imagine.

2. Larry Hogan. I like Larry Hogan. I voted for him twice for governor. In any normal year and context, I’d happily vote for his brand of anti-Trump Republicanism this fall when he is that party’s nominee for the vacant Senate here in Maryland. The trouble is, of course, that the Republican Party isn’t the party of Larry Hogan. He won’t be the one setting the agenda in the upper chamber. As much as instinct and historical ideology tell me to vote for him, I just can’t. I can’t in good conscience cast a vote that could result in the Maga wing of the Republican Party assuming control in the Senate and dismantling one of the few potential checks on unfettered Executive Branch power. It’s a shame, because I think Hogan would be the kind of moderate, reach across the aisle senator that we need more of… but he’d be too easily swept along in a torrent of Trumpism to risk it.

3. Primary. I’ve haven’t missed an opportunity to vote since I turned 18. One of the things I’m finding now as an “unaffiliated” voter in Maryland is that my opportunities to vote are considerably more limited since the state’s primary elections are closed. It begs the question of whether I should register again. As a Republican I could at least have some minor influence on the local county races, where the Republican primary is effectively the general election. As a Democrat I could use one vote to minutely nudge the hippy liberal state party machine a scooch towards the middle ground. Both options make me feel vaguely sick to my stomach, so maybe I’ll just learn to live with skipping primaries.

Maybe it’s just a passing fancy…

I like writing. I mean that in just about every possible way. I like the feeling of my hands on the keyboard. I like sitting down and filling a page with ideas that were, just a few minutes ago, just some vague ideas banging around the inside of my head. I like the notion that, thanks to the permanency of the internet, that somewhere some of these thoughts will continue to exist in the ether long after I have ceased to be. I suspect that’s something of the same reason why I have such an affinity for old fashioned paper books. I accumulate them in hopes that one or two might somehow survive the passing of the years to become the rare old survivors that people wonder about when they eventually come to light.

Just now, though, it’s the writing itself that is intriguing me. Part of me really wants to get back after it in a more methodical way. Is it time for a follow up to Nobody Told Me? Should I take another crack at short fiction? Do I have more to say if I follow either path? Maybe I should just serialize something here instead of dealing with the pain and aggravation of relearning the electronic publication platforms.

The big question – the one that rules them all – is ultimately one of how much time am I willing to allocate to it. Back when I was going at it strong, I was writing every day. That was more than ten years ago now, but back then I was ginning up 300-500 words for the blog 5 days a week and then doing another 500-1000 words a day on other projects. Doing it, even in the halfassed way that I went after it, represents a relatively significant investment of time. Doing it whole-assed, of course, means laying in ever more time than that.

At some point I’ll just have to be very honest with myself about whether this is a passing notion or something that’s going to stick around for a while and be grit in the gears if I don’t do something about it. For now, it falls somewhere on the list of things I’m pondering without applying too much mental horsepower.

What Annoys Jeff this Week?

1. Headsets. Due to some obscure security regulations that are probably being misinterpreted anyway, one of the most dysfunctional parts of spending my day in cubicle hell is being tethered to my computer with some kind of low-budget call center headset that only covers one ear and features a snazzy swing down boom mic. It’s exactly the kind of thing I wore for the three days I was a telemarketer in 1999. It’s bad enough with the fluorescent lighting and no windows, but being required to listen to your music or podcasts in one ear and the random conversations, phone calls, and background office noise of all your colleagues in the other really just adds insult to injury.

2. Meetings. The rise of Teams and other “collaboration tools” during the Great Plague era has made it entirely too easy for people to call a meeting when, in fact, no meeting needs to take place. Instead of a three- or four-line email, though, what we end up with is a calendar populated with 30 minute blocks of mostly wasted time. I earnestly implore you, if you are considering sending out a meeting request, to stop and really consider whether a simple email would convey the same message without carving big chunks out of everyone’s day.

3. Options. Donald Trump is sitting through the first of what will likely be many criminal trials he faces as a cast out one term president. Joe Biden dodders his way through every TV appearance and barely gives the impression of being awake. In a spectacular “hold my beer” moment, Robert Kennedy Jr. enters the chat with a worm eating his brain. These are the major contenders in 2024 for the highest office under the United States Constitution. In this country of approaching 300 million people, these are the best we could find to serve as our elected leader. If this is honestly the best we can do, maybe we really should just call it a day, because the republic has already failed and we’re just going through the motions.