AI and the Old Broad

August 3, 2025 / skidaz / Leave a comment

Unlike the current US Secretary of Education, Linda McMahon, I know the difference between AI (Artificial Intelligence and A1 Steak Sauce.) Earlier this week, I read an article by Mark Zuckerberg, who posited if folk don’t use AI they will be at a serious disadvantage. Hmm. Frankly, I have a serious case of FOMO (Fear of Missing Out,) so I decided to experience this new-fangled notion first hand.

I researched a bit because I assumed such a contraption would be very pricey. However, I bought a basic pair of Meta AI glasses for $300. When they arrived yesterday, I was surprised by the set-up ease and absolutely blown away by what they could do. I put my glasses on, and I could: translate from one language to another, ask questions and receive answers, take pictures/videos, make calls, etc. I walked outside and said, “Hey Meta. What am I looking at?” The instant reply was: your swimming pool and six dogs. I’ve yet to master the app about some of my sick house plants.

When my exuberance with Meta subsided, I wondered about the outcomes of such technology. I could easily wear my innocuous-looking glasses to weekly trivia and get every answer correct. Is that cheating or simply utilizing an available resource to win? As a high school student, I would be able to pass final exams or earn a perfect score on the ACT or SAT. What are the educational implications with AI? A nation of robots? Will our children even be able to think with integrity and creativity, or will they simply vomit back whatever AI says?

AI is in its infancy with early predictions positing it will make many jobs obsolete, what will our world look like in twenty-five years? Thankfully, I’m an old broad and won’t know.

Chasing Dolly

June 29, 2025 / skidaz / Leave a comment

Neither the clone sheep, nor Dolly Levi, but the Dolly…Parton. On Monday, I learned that the Dolly was going to perform in Las Vegas in December, and tickets for her six shows would go on sale Wednesday morning. Some of you probably are wondering why I would care, but it’s a family thing. My maternal grandparents were from a small holler, Kodak, in east Tennessee, where my great grandfather was the Sevier County sheriff. The county seat is Sevierville and home to the Parton family. Given the size of the community my relatives knew the Partons, and until my grandmother’s death she was an avid follower of Dolly’s rising success. (My youngest kid somehow inherited my grandmother’s admiration for Dolly and exclusively uses her cake and brownie mixes.) Given this quasi-familial relationship, I set out on a mission to get concert tickets. Just 8 tickets, which according to the website would cost $600 at the high end, and $25 at the low.

Wednesday morning, 9:00 AM: I entered the queue. WTF? 54,569 folk in front of me! My kid was in the queue with 13,000 ahead. Thank God. We’d score tickets for sure. 10:00 AM the sale began. 10:30 AM all six concerts were sold out! By 11:00AM, the alleged $600 seats were being sold by brokers for $13,929!

Talk about shock and awe for this old broad. My dreams of spectacular Christmas presents shattered, I schlepped away with a determination to figure out what happened. After too many hours of research, I’m still not an authority on what happened. My simplistic explanation is: ticket scalping in the digital age due to (ro)bots. If you want to further understand, consider reading Ticket Masters: The Rise of the Concert Industry and How the Public Got Scalped by Budnick and Baron. Supposedly, His Highness, at the urging of Kid Rock, issued an Executive Order in March to curtail this practice, but obviously that’s yet to come to fruition.

When a nation is run by billionaires, the rest of us don’t matter. Sorry. I’ve got to go. I’m late for the Bezos’s wedding!

Waymo, Wayno

March 2, 2025 / skidaz / Leave a comment

I am very aware I’m an old broad, who at times has been dragged into the new frontier of Technology. I am also fully aware I’m a control freak. If the airline would let me, I’d sit directly behind the pilot and tell him/her how to fly. Since that’s not an option, years ago, I decided to fly first class on any flight over two hours, so I can sit up front and keep an eye on things. Though I may nod off a bit, believe me, I’ve got one eye open.

In 2024 Waymo came to Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Phoenix and is partnering with Uber in Atlanta and Austin. The first time I saw one of these Jaguar spaceship vehicles with its whirly-gig roof feature I almost ran off the road. Now, they are a common site on Phoenix’s busiest freeways. When I’m stopped at a traffic light next to one, it’s freaky to look over and see no driver.

Last week one of my friends and her seventeen-year-old great niece said, “Sue, we’re going to take a ride in a Waymo; do you want to go with us?”

Me? No. In fact, hell no! “I’ll pass. Where are you going? Across town?”

“Just a short ride for the experience.”

“Where?”

“To the grocery store?”

“It’s one mile from here!”

“We’re too scared to go farther! Will you come and pick us from the store? We only want to risk our lives one way.”

They survived their ten-dollar ride and raved about it when I retrieved them. However, the teenager commented, “It was kind of creepy, Sue. In the driver’s console, there was a half-full bottle of water.”

Woo woo, voodoo. Waymo? Wayno!

I Was Robbed

September 15, 2024 / skidaz / Leave a comment

Cool your jets before you feel sorry for me. It was not a legitimate crime worthy of a 911 call. It was a crime of my own stupidity.

My I Phone 13 is fourteen months old, but its screen was a mess. Even though it was covered with a sticky, plastic cover, it showed serious wear. So much so that I thought the glass screen was damaged. As a result, I went to the Verizon store on Thursday fearing the worst–I’d have to get a new phone, a new model with all the fancy doodads I’d never master. A young technician approached, “How may I help you?”

To me, he looked like a he may be sixteen, a veritable child, who was a helluva lot tech smarter than this old lady. I explained my problem. “Is that all? Let me see your phone.” In a slight movement, he removed its battle-worn case and the plastic screen cover. “See? The glass is fine. You just need to replace the screen and the case.”

Whew! I dodged that bullet. Thank God, I don’t need a new phone. “Do you want me to take care of this for you?”

“Absolutely.”

Within five minutes, he worked his magic on the screen. “This is the only case we have for your phone. You’ll notice in doesn’t have the magnetic, charging circle on the back. Do you need that?”

“Yes, I do. You’ve got a whole wall of cases in here, and you’ve none for my phone. Why is that?”

“Your phone is a 13. There’s 14’s, 15’s, and a soon-to-be released 16. Apple slightly alters the size of each phone, so cases aren’t compatible. Try Amazon for a case.”

“I will, thanks. How much do I owe you?”

“Uh, $65.15!”

Talk about sticker shock! (No pun intended.) I struggled for control; I couldn’t go off on a kid who had no control over company pricing. I paid the bill and fumed my way home. Unfortunately, later that evening I ordered a case on Amazon and looked at their pricing for screen covers: $4.99-18.99! I was robbed by my own stupidity.

In this election year, both of our political parties blame high prices of gas, groceries, and even ten-cent pieces of plastic phone screen protectors on each other. In a free enterprise system, government has at best, limited control over pricing in the private sector. Look at the profits big business has made in the last two years. Look at the salaries big business pays its corporate management. And finally, don’t forgot all the tax cuts, mega corporations were given between 2016-2020.

Isn’t it ironic that Islam and Christianity teaches about the seven deadly sins–one of which is greed? Yet…the beat goes on.

About to be 70

July 22, 2018 / skidaz / Leave a comment

Who knew? I thought I was the female version of Peter Pan. Yet, the next time I blog I will be a septuagenerian. Believe me, in the past several months, this reality has been on my mind. Seventy has forced me to examine my life. Have I made a difference? Have I contributed to the greater good? Have I been the best mom I could. I don’t know.

Then last night I decided to take another tact; I asked myself, “What modern invention rocked me?” My grandfather, who was born in 1892, said over and over, electricity changed his life. Of course, he enjoyed the convenience of indoor plumbing too, which came later.

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In preparation for this blog, I asked my 93-year-old mother what rocked her. She struggled with her answer, describing herself as a child of war–born shortly after WWI and living through WWII. She did note she and my dad got their first television in 1950, which later morphed into a big-screen entertainment center. Microwave ovens, cellular phones, disposable diapers, and rotary lawnmowers.

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I suspect you think I will say the computer–it, indeed, rocked me. It certainly changed my life, but it was not the first thing. It was my watch. Like many, my first big-girl watch was a Minnie Mouse. Admittedly, numbers have never been my best friend, and I labored learning to tell time. My maternal grandmother frustrated me when I’d ask, “What time is it?”

“Quarter past.”

What does that mean? There’s no quarters on my watch, nor halves, nor three-quarters.

Eventually, I mastered the art of telling time, but my world was shakened when Texas Instruments introduced a digital watch in the early 70’s. Now, with a simple button press, I instantly knew it was 5:45. I didn’t have to wind it. I was in heaven! Thus, began my love affair with watches. I have designer, analog power ones, and was once gifted a Rolex. Rolex–the most over-priced, over-rated, high maintenance watch on the market.

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I’ll take my newest one any day. You know the one. The one that counts my steps, monitors my blood pressure, sends me messages and emails, allows me to answer in-coming calls, search the internet, etc. And it tells time!

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Seventy is creeping up my shorts. Got to go. Time’s a wasting.

Skeptical Sue

October 15, 2017 / skidaz / Leave a comment

IRS-scam

“This is the IRS. You have failed to make your payment, and federal agents have issued a warrant for your arrest. Please call this number immediately to avoid prosecution.”

“Oh really?” I shouted at the recorded voice. “Bring them on, baby.” Sadly, in Arizona, folk called the number and lost over two million dollars in the scam.

internetscam-620w The news in awash with unsuspecting people being ripped off to free their grandchild from a Mexican jail, wire money to buy a designer puppy, or help some romantic interest get home from abroad. Dating sites are filled with these predators. I’ve also received a number of emails informing me I won the Irish Sweepstakes or I’m the last known heir of a family fortune. Of course, I needed to wire “x” amount of money to claim my prize or my inheritance.

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What chaps my heinie most is scammers prey on the uneducated and the elderly. When I read an elderly woman gave her life savings to someone who promised to repay her double the amount in an hour, it sickens me. So for the most part, I research those with whom I do business. My tile guys, my roofer, my HVAC guy, my pool guy, my landscaper have all been vetted by recommendation of friends or outstanding reviews. Nor do I purchase big ticket items, like appliances or cars without perusing consumer reviews.

Yesterday when I went to the grocery store, I needed to change a Ben Franklin into two US Grants. My grocery houses an unknown bank, probably some start-up. I handed the teller my Ben Franklin, “I just need two fifties, please.” He marked my bill with an authenticating pen.

“Do you have an account with us?”

“No.”

“Would you like to set one up?”

“No. Thank you.”

“Our policy does not allow us to give change to non-customers, but I’ll make a one-time exception in your case.”

WTF? It’s not like I asked for $100 in quarters, nickels, and dimes. No wonder I never considered doing business with this sketchy bank.

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The Cicada and The Tortoise: A Curious Tale

October 1, 2017 / skidaz / Leave a comment

Admittedly, I’m a technological immigrant. Further, I’m technologically challenged. I belong in a special class with any 10-year-old teacher. Even five-year-olds today, know more than me. My daughters and the school board folk have drug me into this new arena, and I know just enough to be dangerous. While I enjoy that the world is now just one arrow key away and adore my cell phone convenience, I abhor “auto correct” and the feature of speaking rather than typing. Lord knows, I sent far too many incoherent messages and emails. A heinous crime, when the author is an English major!

On the other hand, I laugh uproariously when I receive one of these messages. This week I received the following:

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Hmm. A large cicada, which looks like a desert tortoise. I was engulfed in laughter. A family pet? Even funnier. Did they clip its wings so it wouldn’t fly off?

Really? I see no likeness in the least. Yet, I was sad I have no artistic talent. Can you imagine the joy of creating such a creature? I bet Dr. Seuss would have drawn and made millions on this hybrid character.

My neighbor and I had several hilarious conversations discussing the email. We concluded the sender must be whacked. Twas, not the case. Damnable auto correct was at fault. Behold the sulcata tortoise.

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I Am A Slave

June 4, 2017 / skidaz / Leave a comment

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Though never held in chains and leg irons, I was a slave. Isn’t every woman with a husband and young children? My orders were cook, clean, wash, iron, drive to this class, root on the sidelines, coach softball, host a party, yada, yada, yada. Eventually, my kids grew up, and my husband chose the proverbial other side of the septic tank.

Granted, I was alone. But I no longer had shackles; I was free! I could do as I pleased, on my terms, when I wanted to do whatever. Certainly, I still had responsibilities to all of my dogs, my house work, the pool, the garden, etc., but it was now solely up to me. No orders. No timeline.

Then, this free woman did an incredibly stupid thing. I asked for a Fit Bit for Christmas, and my adorable daughters delivered. At first, I found it amusing. I easily viewed emails and incoming phone calls while searching for my cell phone in the depths of my purse. However, Fanny Fit Bit soon became annoying.

“Sue, I’m here solely to get you up and moving. You haven’t reached your step goal today. Your pulse is “X,” your fat burn is “X,” your stair climb is “X.”

“Frankly, Fanny, I don’t care.”

With that Fanny morphed into the witch monitor from hell. She wakes me at dawn: “Give me 250 steps.”

“I haven’t had a cup of coffee yet. Leave me alone.” I close my eyes; my wrist vibrates.

“Time to get up and get moving.”

Damn. She’s right; I do need to go to bathroom again–probably, for the sixth time since I initially went to bed hours ago. One of the perils of aging. Hopefully, I have another few years before I clip coupons for Depends!

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In the meantime, when Fanny demands, “Fifty pushups now,” she will find herself at the deep end of my swimming pool. RIP. (Unfortunately, shortly after I wrote the last sentence, my cell phone landed in the deep end. Karma?)

Friday from Hell

March 27, 2017 / skidaz / Leave a comment

When I worked full-time, I rejoiced on TGIF. I reveled in a weekend of fun and foolishness. However, Friday, March 24th was deplorable.

First, I was awakened by the sound of heaving. (One of my dogs, an inherited Heinz, burrows herself every night under the blanket.) I leaped from the bed, threw back the cover, only to witness her vomit a disgusting mess of grass and yellow bile on the sheet and mattress cover. I looked at the clock–5:50 AM. Really?

After sentencing the soiled linens to the washer, I went to make a cup of coffee. Damn! Out of K cups! Remembering my grandmother’s advice to never leave home without donning clean underwear, I got dressed, semi-combed my bed hair, and drove to the Golden Arch’s drive through. “One small cup of coffee, please with cream.

“That will be $1.08 at the first window.”

As I reached in my purse to retrieve the money, I remembered my wallet was on my kitchen table. I scoured the bottom of my purse for errant change–67 cents. Now what? Fortunately, I don’t store my credit cards in may wallet, so I offered the clerk a charge card. Her face was filled with disgust as she swiped my card. I imagined her thinking, “Dumb old broad, driving a nice car, without $1.08 in cash. She must not own a hairbrush either.”

Wait! It gets worse. The mail comes with my credit card bill. I peruse it and quickly realize my account has been compromised. Immediately, I phoned. “Enter your zip code, enter the last four digits of your credit card number. Press one for….Press two…. ” What? I need to talk to someone; no choices dealt with my issues.

Two hours after this mayhem began, I finally talked to Amber, and my compromised card was cancelled. But March Madness didn’t end.

My house phone rang once, then stopped. Again and again. Once. Then, nothing. The house phone screen message, “Line in use.” I can’t deal with this; I destined in end up in the emergency room on a Friday night. I’ll suffer a full-blown heart attack, die on the gurney, while all the drunk, car-accident victims are ushered into ICU. My cell phone quickly connected me to the cable phone service, and Frantesa answered.

Swiftly, my Friday from hell vanished. When I explained my problem, she offered help. “What’s your first name?”

“Sue.”

“Miss Sue, let me reset your modem. Are you physically able to unplug this and that?”

What? I’ve not lost all the cards in my deck…yet. “Certainly.”

“This will take a few moments. Since you said you’re older than me, do you have any words of advice for me?”

What? I’m trying to get my phone fixed. She persisted. “Frantesa, you are 29-years old. Vote. Pay attention to local, state, and national issues.”

“We’re not allowed to discuss politics with customers. Come on, give me some to improve my life.”

What? Now, I’m a shrink? “Frantesa, your goal in life is to be remembered for what you gave, not what you had.”

“Wow, Miss Sue, those are powerful words. I do give, but not enough. I’m sorry I can’t resolve your phone problem. A technician will be by tomorrow morning.”

NEVER in my long history had this cable company scheduled promptly. “By the way, Miss Sue, I flagged your account. You’ll receive a $10 credit, and I will receive an urgent message when your problem is fixed.”

The technician arrived three minutes ahead of schedule Saturday morning and within another five minutes, my phone problem vanished. Even in light of the vitriolic hate currently spread across America, our country is brimming with wonderful people who give, regardless of what they have. Frantesa, thank you.