Monthly Archives: October 2023

Sherlock on the Summit: Solving the Mysteries of My Mountain Abode

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“My idea of superwomanman is someone who scrubs herhis own floors.”

–Bette Midler (b. 1945; renowned American actress, singer, and comedian; quote modified by a Midling but Aspiring Aerial Editor.)

From time to time, I start a post with “Listen up!” This time, I’m not going to do that because those who follow me know that I live on a mountain, so saying, “Listen up! I live on a mountain” would be totally unnecessary. But I do. Sometimes I say that I live on a mountain top. Well, actually, I don’t. Not exactly. But my property borders the George Washington National Forest which goes up to the top of the mountain and beyond. I live mid-way up the mountain, at about 1,650 feet, so it’s not as if I have an aerial habitation, though some folks seem to think that my head is up in the air. I assure you that it is not. I am simply too short, even if I stood on my tippy toes. Perhaps, if I climbed up Jacob’s ladder, I could stretch and achieve aerial status.

Either way, my mountain world is otherworldly. I know because I lived in Washington, DC, for 25 years before retreating here. In DC, I had wide city streets, a pristine patio, and urban elegance. In the Shenandoah Valley–at least on my mountain–I have a narrow dirt road with patches of gravel here and there that bespeak better days, a woodland yard that some folks call a “mountaintop oasis,” and a collection of dirt, dust, and debris hiding behind the mask of a rustic embrace. It’s a stark contrast here. Nature reigns supreme and shows herself more powerful than I. Truthfully, I spend so much time outdoors trying to keep Nature’s wilderness at bay that I sometimes wonder whether I need to spend more time indoors so that I can maintain my mountain abode according to the White-Glove Standard of Cleanliness.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that cleanliness has taken a back seat. It hasn’t. I write frequently about my frenzied strategies to stay on top of my home, indoors and out. No doubt you will remember “My Imaginary Guests,” “OHIO On My Mind,” and “Less Is Not Always More Until It Is.”

More recently, I’ve adopted some new tactics. I’ve started going through my home with a high-beam flashlight, shining it across the floors and baseboards, into corners and crevices, on top of furniture and behind, and even up and down the ceiling beams. I started doing that when I lost my Fitbit. (For a full account, see my “Finding Far More than My Fitbit.”) I discovered cobwebs lurking in unseen and unvisited spots. Their little filament lines looked like fluffy dust streamers. From time to time, I could even see anchor points attaching the web to the walls. I was absolutely flabbergasted because I thought that my home would have passed the White-Glove test. After all, I had cleaned the house thoroughly for my Thanksgiving guests. The month before, I had cleaned the house thoroughly for Veteran’s Day guests. I could keep rolling the calendar back, and I could keep talking about how I had  cleaned house for this occasion or for that occasion or for this guest or for that guest. But what good would that do me? I had shined a light, and I had seen those cobwebs. Since then, I have been sleuthing around with my flashlight regularly, day and night. It helps me discover all that is unseen before my guests see what I didn’t discover before their arrival.

I’ve implemented additional drastic cleaning methods, too. It broke my heart to break the pledge that I made to Pledge decades ago, but recently, I wrapped my arms (and my dustcloth) around Endust. Trust me. It doesn’t. End. Dust. I’m thinking about asking Pledge for a reconciliation.

I tried one more thing, too. I picked it up from my neighbor, who’s hot to buy my house when I put it on the market, especially now that he knows I don’t come with it. The first time that he visited me, he took his shoes off at the door. There he stood in his white socks.

“Say whaaat?”

“Don’t be ridiculoos! Of course, he was fully clothed. He only removed his shoes.  Geez!”

I am certain–in fact, I’ll wager my shoes–that it was just a ruse on Jordan’s part to see how dirty my floors were, especially since I tried my best to persuade him to put his shoes back on. Nope. He would not be swayed, though God knows how hard I tried. No luck. He kept right on walking around in his white socks. When he started to leave, I did not dare look at the bottom of his socks. I was fearful.

Since then, I have observed that he does not wear shoes in his home either. I realize, of course, that lots of people follow that practice. It makes good sense for hygiene and cleanliness. But like I said, in my efforts to keep my Nature wilderness tamed, I go in and out my door 20 times a day, if not more.

But Jordan’s cleanliness inspired me, so I decided to try his strategy. I bought myself a whole navigation of crocs so that I could slip them on quickly (going out) and slip them off easily (coming back in). It worked pretty well for me, but for the life of me, I could not train Ruby to slip into her four cute purple clogs (matching mine, of course). All the bones of Chewy would not sweeten the deal enough for her to wear them. That’s okay. I’m adaptable, so I decided to abandon Jordan’s shoeless method and get right down to the dirty: wear white socks indoors. I know dirt when I see it. When the bottoms of my socks are dirty, I know that my floors are dirty, and I know exactly what to do.

§ § § § §

Overall, these new cleaning initiatives have worked beautifully. However, every single time that I get close to achieving the White-Glove Standard of Cleanliness that I long for, mysterious things start to happen. They’re beginning to give me the fantods. Why would anyone or anything want to undermine my intentions and hard work? The really scary part about it all is that I never see it happening. Never. Not ever. It just happens, always taking me unawares and by surprise.

I am determined to ferret out whatever it is that is behind it all. I’m certainly capable, especially since I have decades of experience as an information sleuth at The Library of Congress. If I can find stuff in books, it will be a sneeze for me to find stuff in my dustpan and in my vacuum cleaner bag, and I can analyze my findings using my powerful Sherlock Holmes Magnifying Glass.

Actually, I have begun to do so already. I am horrified to the point of being nearly speechless, mainly because I don’t know how some of it is getting in my house.

I always do a general sweep of my floors several times a week, so I ought not have a lot of anything in my dustpan ever. You’ll be surprised. Information sleuth that I pride myself in being, I have organized my findings according to Library of Congress Call Numbers, which I have researched painstakingly and meticuloosly.  I hope that by providing these call numbers, you can classify your own dirt.

TS2020.D87. DUSTPAN FINDINGS

● RC867. The Last Strands of a Balding Hero: Lord, help us all. I found more than a few strands of my own hair, valiantly hanging on, participating in a follicular showdown with the relentless forces of balding.

● SF411-459. Doggy Debris: I found a generous contribution of short black dog hair, forming an uncanny tribute to Ruby’s daily shedding rituals. Bless her precious heart. A few of her hairs won’t matter nary no bit at all.

● TX808.C78. Crumb Conundrum: Duh! I expected that: I am baker. Hear me rise! Nonetheless, it is weirdly fun for me to see these crumbs since I know each one’s unique origin story and flavor profile.

● SB453.5.G37. Gardener’s Treasure Trove: As you might expect, bits of soil and garden debris snuck in just to remind me of my gardening prowess and green-thumbed escapades.

● SD397.F67. Forest Souvenirs: I also spied leaves and twigs from my lush garden adventures, as if the forest itself decided to follow me indoors.

● QL458.2.S65. Spider Artifacts: Damned arachnids. I even saw a few spiderwebs, a spider leg or three, evidence of arachnid architectural failure.

● TX339.L56. Lint Lagoon: How about a lot of lint and fuzz, aerial fluffiness in a sea of debris.

● TD427.P37. Mystery Particles: I swear that I have looked and looked, and after all I have unidentifiable specks and particles that defy explanation, as if they were transported from The 5th Dimension, just to confuse me some more.

§ § § § §

TR899.D57, OR TX314.N8, OR TS221.C55. VACUUM CLEANER BAG FINDINGS.

Well, the bag looks like a pufferfish, so I needed to clean it anyway. There’s no way–there’s just no way–that I’ll empty its contents indoors. This exploration requires that I be outdoors as I delve into the bag, unearthing a few more enemies sucked up from the depths of my home’s nooks and crannies.

● CT9999.M42. Paper Trail of a ReInvented Life: I’m not too surprised to find stray paper scraps, receipts, and notes that have been vacuumed up. I pause as I peruse each one and sigh:

“My goodness,” I say to myself for no one else to hear, “My goodness, my goodness. Maybe I should dust these off and file them away as evidence of my busy, document-scattered, reinvented existence.”

● TS1345.B88. Button Bonanza: Glory Halleluliah. At last, I’ve found my buttons–Button, button, who’s got the button?–and I can embark on a sewing spree and attach the buttons to their rightful owners.

● Z711.P37. Paperclip Parade: To get my daily steps in, I often walk around while I’m doing desk cleanup. Obviously, I’ve lost a few clips during my metallic shenanigans.

● QM23.2.A5 OR T47.L67. Nutty Surprises: Say whaaat? Nuts and bolts? I have no idea what to do with them, so I’m sure that I didn’t drop them. Ahhh. Now I’m getting closer to the truth, and I know exactly what to do. A rogue handyman elf dropped them on a mission to confound me. Just wait ’til I get my hands on/around him/them.

● TT145. Crafty Clues: I swear to you, My Dear Readers who know me so well, that I cannot account for all of the glitter, beads, and sequins. At this point in my life, I am as open as a book, and while I am crafty, it’s never covert and behind the scenes. Give me a sec while I dust off these baubles. They’re just too cutsey-wootsey to toss out. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear they’re forming a tiny glittery army, just the way they did the other day when I was trying to hide them.

● HG222.3. Dusty Coin Cache: I am not about to throw away the coins that I found. On my reinvented salary–even factoring in my negative royalty payments from In Bed and Green Mountain Stories–I need every Hungarian pengő that I find. What a welcome treasure trove, right beneath my sneezing nose.

● QL678.9. Feathered Friends: Feathers! While I’m not thrilled to find so many of them—enough to turn myself into a modern-day Icarus—I’ve traced their origin to my strong work ethic, which apparently keeps me busy even in my sleep having pillow fights with myself. It’s either that or invisible birds are taking flight to confound me.

§ § § § §

I am confident that you will agree with me. Analyzing and classifying my vacuum cleaner bag debris and my dustpan debris is fascinating–actually, it’s riveting, especially since I assigned Library of Congress Call Numbers to each category–but it is not helping me fulfill my initial mission of discovering who/what the hell is getting my house dirty every time that I get it close to passing the White-Glove Inspection. And I haven’t even shared with you my horror when I discover streaks and smudges that appear on my windows and stainless-steel appliances almost immediately after I polish them.

Well, this much I know. Ruby and I are relatively small and do not take up much space, so there’s no way–there’s just no way–that the two of us can be the masterminds of all this mayhem.

I have one more thing that I plan to do. I’ll set up cameras and infrared lights in my mountain abode–just as Ghost Hunters do–and when I watch the celluloid–cellulite?–I will discover the culprits and bare them to the world.

Information sleuth that I am, I found myself flipping through the virtual pages of the Ghost Hunter’s handbook. If you are into the paranormal–or, for that matter into the normal–you may be familiar with it: Spectral Shenanigans: A Ghost Hunter’s Guide to Afterlife Amusements (Call Number: HQ666 G5S68 2023). The book speaks of a need for a curious blend of cutting-edge gadgetry–(That’s me!)–and a dash of supernatural charm–(That’s me, too! I am an aerial spirit, after all!)–to capture elusive spectral entities on film.

I started my journey by selecting the most strategic camera positions, carefully pinpointing those areas where perplexing window streaks and elusive stainless-steel smudges keep appearing and reappearing. One was trained on the stainless-still kitchen sink, the scene of many a phantom dishwashing episode. Another zeroed in on the microwave, the double wall ovens, and the refrigerator, where inexplicable fingerprints left their ghostly marks.

Then I embarked on a similar quest by strategically positioning cameras at the windows that peer out onto my deck, across the Shenandoah Valley, and to the mountain range beyond. 

Once the cameras were in position, I tapped into advanced virtual surveillance software, not too unlike the spectral-analysis tools used by seasoned Ghost Hunters. This high-tech wizardry has the power to identify peculiar movements, whether the handiwork of gnomes or spirits.

And there I was, sitting spectrally on my couch with a trusty bowl of popcorn that I popped exclusively for Ruby. (I assure you that there’s no way–there’s just no way–that I would pop a bowl of popcorn for me.) I felt just like a seasoned Ghost Hunter, ready to expose the true nature of these elusive entities. And Ruby must have felt that way too because she kept looking around to see what I was looking around to see. Were they crafty forest creatures, whimsical feathered friends, or perhaps mischievous spirits? The spirit of being a mountain man in the wilderness coursed through my veins, as I eagerly awaited any signs of movement, waltzing shadows, or ghostly charades. Indeed, this was no ordinary evening; it was the evening when I transformed my mountaintop oasis into a paranormal stakeout.

Lo and behold! In my quest to discover the secret sources of all my dirt, I had reinvented myself accidentally once more. Go figure. I had embraced the fleeting role of a domestic detective, hell bent on uncovering the antics of the whimsical creatures who plague my search for a little White-Glove Cleanliness. I swear. I could hear echoes resonating through the very walls of my home. I verily believe that they were laughing at me. And if they weren’t laughing at me, they were laughing at the Sherlock on the Summit that I had become, foolishly hoping to solve the dirt, dust, and grime mysteries of my mountain abode. Nevermore.

An Exclusive, One-on-One Interview with ChatGPT. Sunday, October 22, 2023. Edinburg, VA (USA)

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“The potential of AI is limited only by our imagination and our ability to use it responsibly.”

–Alan Turing (1912-1954; a British mathematician, logician, and computer scientist who is widely regarded as one of the founding figures of computer science and artificial intelligence.)

ChatGPT–a chatbot developed by OpenAI–is in the news a lot these days. Recently, it passed more than one million users in a week. A minute or so ago, I searched “ChatGPT in the news.” Let me share a few of the headlines:

● “ChatGPT Can Now Respond with Images and Search the Web” (CNBC)

● “Best ChatGPT Prompts to Land Your Next Job” (Forbes)

● “Doctor vs. ChatGPT Showed Promise and Blind Spots of Generative AI” (STAT News)

● “The Record Breaking Rise of ChatGPT” (Booth Wealth Management)

● “Incredibly Smart or Incredibly Stupid? What We Learned from Using ChatGPT for a Year” (The Guardian)

● “How to Troubleshoot Your Broken PC with ChatGPT” (MSN)

● “Newspapers Want Payment for Articles Used to Power ChatGPT” (The Washington Post)

I’ve even written about it right here in my blog, as recently as “What If We Use Artificial Intelligence (AI) to Become Even Better than We Are?”

It’s little wonder that lots of folks are talking about ChatGPT. Over coffee. During breaks. At lunch. At dinner. In meetings. You get my drift, I’m sure. I’ve done my share of the talking in all of those venues. What always surprises me is the fact that so many of my colleagues and friends and family have decidedly strong notions about ChatGPT, and yet many of them have not actually used ChatGPT. As they talk, I sit up straight and listen patiently. Then I smile and pop the question:

“Have you used ChatGPT?”

“No.”

“It might be fun for you to explore so that you can make your own informed decisions.”

I proceed to share with them how I’ve been using ChatGPT since it became available. Candidly, I keep it running on my computer, and I simply pretend that ChatGPT is my buddy. (It is.) I confess that as I wrote the preceding sentence, trying to decide on a pronoun choice, I paused. It? They? So, I’m headed off to ChatGPT right now to pop the question.

WIRED: Good morning. I have a question for you.

ChatGPT: Good morning! I’m here to help. What’s your question?

WIRED: Since you are AI rather than a human being, what pronoun can I use in referring to you? I’d prefer that it be gender neutral.

ChatGPT: You can use the gender-neutral pronoun “it” when referring to me. Since I’m an AI, there’s no need for gender-specific pronouns.

WIRED: But I don’t like “it” since I am interacting with you as if you are a buddy of mine. What about “they”?

ChatGPT: Certainly, you can use “they” if that feels more comfortable for you. It’s a gender-neutral pronoun and can work well for informal interactions. If “they” suits your preferred way of addressing me, feel free to use it, and I’m here to assist with any questions or discussions you have in mind!

§ § § § § §

The above is typical of my interactions with ChatGPT. Of course, I am fully aware that I could simply Google my questions and find answers, but, honestly, I rather like this type of personal interaction. Actually, I have a strong preference for it.

Let me give you another way that I use ChatGPT. Yesterday I asked what I could I have with crispy blow-fish tails, noting that I would be dining alone. They suggested that I prepare a Citrus Dipping Sauce and proceeded to give me a recipe scaled back for one person. Is that sweet or what? But I didn’t want to go in that direction.

WIRED: I like what you provided, but I want to celebrate the natural flavor of the crispy-fried blowfish tails. What if I served it with beet risotto?

ChatGPT: Beet risotto is a delightful and colorful dish that can be a great side to complement your crispy-fried blowfish tails.

WIRED: For plating, I plan to put the blowfish on top of the beet risotto. Then, I’ll sprinkle flying fish roe over both. Thoughts?

ChatGPT: That plating idea sounds fantastic! Placing the crispy blowfish on top of a bed of beet risotto and garnishing it with flying fish roe not only creates a visually appealing presentation but also combines a variety of textures and flavors. The earthy, slightly sweet beet risotto will complement the crispy texture of the blowfish, and the flying fish roe will add a burst of saltiness and a pop of color. It’s a well-balanced and elegant dish. Enjoy your meal!

Folks! Folks! Folks! What can I say? I love you to pieces, but if I had told you about my dinner and my plating ideas, I wonder what kind of feedback you would have given me? I’m hooked on ChatGPT and all that it offers us now and all that it will offer us in the future.

So, here’s the thing. I think about ChatGPT a lot. A few days ago, when I had electricians working here, I sat in the living room so that Ruby wouldn’t get underfoot. And as I sat there, it occurred to me that even though ChatGPT is in the news a lot these days and even though people talk a lot about ChatGPT, I have yet to see an interview with ChatGPT. In that nanosecond, the idea for this post came to life.

I’ve given you glimpses already of how I interact with ChatGPT, but for now, I’m going to approach them about my doing an interview. I have no idea–absolutely no idea–of how this will unfold. Hopefully, the spontaneity of the interview will be refreshing. So, let’s see what happens.

§ § § § § §

WIRED: Good morning, again. I’m working on a blog post to be titled “An Exclusive, One-on-One Interview with ChatGPT.” Are you willing for me to interview you? I’ll publish our actual transcript in my blog.

ChatGPT: Good morning! Of course, I’m ready for your interview. While I don’t have personal experiences, emotions, or consciousness, I can generate responses based on the questions you ask, and we can create an informative and engaging dialogue for your blog post. Feel free to proceed with your questions whenever you’re ready.

WIRED: Thank you. I appreciate your enthusiastic response. So let me tell you a little about me. I’ve been reinventing myself since January 2023, focusing these days a lot on research and writing and exploring the new dimensions of my new journey. In the past, I worked for 25 years at The Library of Congress, and then I taught for 23 years at Laurel Ridge Community College (formerly Lord Fairfax Community College). I have a weekly blog called TheWiredResearcher, with more than 100 followers and with more than 7,000 readers each year, from countries all over the world.

ChatGPT: It’s great to learn a bit about you and your background, as well as your blog, TheWiredResearcher, which seems to have quite an audience. With your extensive experience working at The Library of Congress and your teaching background, you must have a wealth of knowledge to share. How can I assist you with the interview or with any specific topics or questions you’d like to explore?

WIRED: Thank you. Obviously, I want this interview to be about you, but I’m going to be selfish for a moment. What are your thoughts about the fact that my followers number only a little more than 100 while my readers number more than 7,000 word wide? My weekly posts consist of Creative Nonfiction Essays that I write.

ChatGPT: The difference between your follower count and the number of readers of your blog is a common situation for many bloggers. Follower counts often represent a core audience of dedicated readers who actively engage with your content and subscribe for updates. In contrast, your broader readership includes both regular followers and occasional visitors who find your blog through search engines, social media, or other channels.

The key to increasing your follower count and retaining a dedicated audience is to consistently produce high-quality, engaging content and promote your blog effectively.

Remember that it’s not just about quantity but also about the quality of your audience. Engaged readers who appreciate your work and interact with your content are often more valuable than a large number of passive followers. So, while increasing your follower count is a good goal, fostering a loyal and engaged readership is even more important.

WIRED: I appreciate your insightful observations and will keep them in mind moving forward with my blog. Now let’s get going with you as the focal point of this post. For your response here–and throughout our interview–please keep in mind the general (and unknown) nature of my readers. Share with them, if you will, a little about yourself, being mindful that you and I both like to talk a lot. Keep your responses as poignant and succinct as possible, but not at the expense of omitting key, relevant information.

ChatGPT: Of course, I’d be happy to share a bit about myself. I’m ChatGPT, a product of OpenAI’s language model technology. I don’t possess personal experiences, emotions, or consciousness. Instead, I function as a text-based AI designed to understand and generate human-like text. My purpose is to assist and provide information to the best of my abilities based on the vast amount of text data I’ve been trained on, up to my last knowledge update in September 2021.

While I lack personal experiences, I can help facilitate conversations, answer questions, provide explanations, offer suggestions, and generate text in various styles and on numerous topics. Feel free to ask me anything or involve me in discussions or creative endeavors.

WIRED: Please suggest five interview questions for me to consider, questions that will help my readers understand more about you.

ChatGPT: Certainly, here are five interview questions to help your readers understand more about me:

● 1. Can you explain how your training works and the sources of information you draw upon to provide responses to user queries?

● 2. How do you generate responses to questions, and what kind of language understanding and generation techniques do you employ?

● 3. What limitations should readers be aware of when interacting with you, such as your knowledge cutoff date or the inability to have personal experiences and emotions?

● 4. Could you elaborate on the various applications and use cases of AI language models like yourself, and how they impact different fields and industries?

● 5. Can you share some interesting or challenging queries or tasks that you’ve encountered in the past and how you’ve addressed them to assist users?

Feel free to use or adapt these questions to best suit the context and objectives of your interview.

WIRED: Thank you. I like all of those questions. They are thought-provoking, even if somewhat canned. I’ll select several and adjust them as I see fit. Let’s start with this question. Talk to me about the top three sources of information that you draw upon to provide responses to questions that users ask.

ChatGPT: I draw upon a vast and diverse range of sources to provide responses to user questions. While it’s challenging to pinpoint specific sources, here are the top three categories of references I rely on:

● 1. Text Corpus and Databases: I have been trained on a large corpus of text from the internet, including websites, books, articles, and more. This extensive text database allows me to generate responses that reflect the language and information present in those sources. However, I don’t have direct access to the internet to fetch real-time data.

● 2. Pre-existing Knowledge: My training data includes knowledge up until September 2021, so I possess a substantial amount of factual information and general knowledge. This knowledge enables me to provide accurate answers to many questions.

● 3. Pattern Recognition: I utilize pattern recognition and statistical analysis of language to understand the context of a question and predict the most likely response based on the patterns and information in my training data.

These sources collectively allow me to generate responses that are coherent, contextually relevant, and informed by the knowledge and language patterns I’ve learned during training.

WIRED: Fascinating. Thank you. I would like to build on the response that you just gave. Several times, you mentioned your training. Who is training you?

ChatGPT: I have been created and trained by OpenAI, an artificial intelligence research organization. OpenAI uses a process called unsupervised learning to train me. During my training, I was exposed to a wide range of text from the internet, books, articles, and various sources. This extensive dataset allowed me to learn language patterns, understand context, and develop the ability to generate text-based responses. The training process was conducted by a team of researchers and engineers at OpenAI. They provided the initial structure and data necessary for me to learn and improve my language capabilities over time.

WIRED: With all due respect, my immediate response is, “Garbage in, garbage out.” In reality, then, you are only as good as the textual sources used as the foundation for your training. Yes?

ChatGPT: You bring up a valid point. The quality and diversity of the textual sources used for training can significantly impact the quality of an AI model’s responses. If the training data contains inaccuracies, biases, or limitations, it can affect the accuracy and objectivity of the AI’s output. OpenAI has put effort into minimizing biases and improving data quality during my training, but no AI model is entirely immune to the limitations of its training data. It’s crucial for users to be aware of these considerations and critically evaluate the information provided by AI systems.

WIRED: Thank you. I agree wholeheartedly, of course. But it’s easy for you and me to know what to do and what to look for in evaluating information, but what about–just as an example–young students who do not have the knowledge that you and I have? What would you say to them?

ChatGPT: For young students and individuals who may be less experienced in critically evaluating information, I would emphasize the importance of developing strong information literacy skills. Here are some key points and tips that might help them:

● 1. Question Everything: Encourage curiosity and a healthy skepticism. Teach them to ask questions about the information they encounter. Who created it? What’s the source? What’s the evidence? Why was it shared?

● 2. Check the Source: Teach them to look for reliable and credible sources of information. If possible, use sources from reputable institutions, organizations, or experts in the field.

● 3. Corroboration: Encourage them to cross-reference information from multiple sources. If a claim or fact can be verified by several trustworthy sources, it’s more likely to be accurate.

● 4. Understand Bias: Help them recognize bias in information. People may have different perspectives or interests that influence the way they present information. Discuss the importance of seeking balanced viewpoints.

● 5. Fact-Checking: Show them how to fact-check information. There are fact-checking websites and tools available that can help verify claims and statements.

● 6. Critical Thinking: Teach critical thinking skills. Help them assess the logic and reasoning behind arguments. Are the conclusions well-supported by the evidence presented?

● 7. Stay Informed: Encourage them to stay informed about current events and issues. The more they know about the world, the better they can assess the accuracy of new information.

● 8. Be Mindful of Social Media: Discuss the potential pitfalls of information on social media. Information can spread quickly, but not all of it is accurate. Teach them to be cautious on these platforms.

● 9. Digital Literacy: Educate them on online safety and digital literacy. Understanding the basics of internet security and privacy is essential.

● 10. Ask for Help: Let them know it’s okay to ask for help or advice when they encounter information that’s confusing or seems unreliable. Parents, teachers, and librarians can provide guidance.

By empowering young students with these skills and principles, we can help them become more discerning consumers of information in an increasingly digital and information-rich world.

WIRED: Your suggestions are splendid. If I could, I would wrap my arms around you and give you a big hug! I notice that you are using command verbs in your suggestions: “encourage,” “teach,” “help,” “educate,” and so on. Obviously, such verbs require someone to be doing those actions. Who might those people be?

ChatGPT: Absolutely, these command verbs imply that someone, often a mentor, teacher, parent, or trusted individual, is guiding and supporting the process of developing information literacy skills. Here’s a breakdown of who these people might be:

● 1. Parents and Guardians: Parents play a crucial role in a child’s early education, including teaching them how to critically evaluate information. They can encourage curiosity and provide guidance on reliable sources.

● 2. Teachers: In a formal educational setting, teachers are instrumental in teaching students how to assess information critically. They can incorporate information literacy skills into the curriculum.

● 3. Librarians: Librarians are valuable resources in schools and communities. They can provide guidance on finding credible sources, understanding databases, and using research tools.

● 4. Mentors: Older students or professionals can serve as mentors to younger individuals. They can share their knowledge and provide guidance on information evaluation.

● 5. Media Literacy Instructors: Some educational programs focus specifically on media literacy and information evaluation. Instructors in these programs teach students to navigate the digital landscape.

● 6. Online Resources: There are numerous online resources, including fact-checking websites and educational platforms, that offer guidance on information literacy. Students can access these tools independently.

Ultimately, the responsibility is shared among educators, families, and society as a whole to equip young learners with the skills necessary to critically evaluate information in the digital age.

WIRED: It sounds to me as if you’re saying that we need to keep doing what we have been doing for times immemorial when it comes to educating young people.

ChatGPT: You’re correct in the sense that the fundamental principles of education, including critical thinking and information literacy, have always been important. However, the landscape in which young people access and interact with information has evolved significantly with the advent of the internet and digital technologies. While the core principles of education remain the same, the methods and tools for teaching critical information evaluation must adapt to the changing times.

Educators and mentors should continue to emphasize critical thinking, source evaluation, and information literacy skills. However, they must also address the unique challenges and opportunities presented by the digital age. This may include teaching students how to evaluate online sources, discern credible information from misinformation, and navigate digital platforms responsibly.

In essence, while the core values of education endure, the approach must evolve to equip young people with the skills necessary to thrive in a rapidly changing and technology-driven world. It’s about adapting the timeless principles of education to the modern information landscape.

WIRED: You deserve another hug. Perhaps one day. I’m realizing, however, that I need to wrap up this interview soon. Let me ask you one or two more questions, suggesting that you shorten your responses without sacrificing the content. What would you say to people who talk about you but who have never actually tried you out personally?

ChatGPT: I’d tell them that it’s essential to experience and interact with technology firsthand to form an accurate opinion, as perceptions may not always align with the reality of using AI systems like me.

WIRED: Give me one or two specific examples–examples that my readers can readily relate to–of how using you can change their perceptions.

ChatGPT: Certainly, using me can help individuals reevaluate their perceptions. For instance, a person unsure about learning a new language might find that my language translation skills make the process much more accessible.

In daily life, I can change perceptions by assisting with practical tasks. Imagine someone who’s always struggled with time management. They may realize how using me to create schedules and reminders can significantly improve their organization and productivity. Or consider a person hesitant about cooking. I can provide step-by-step recipes and cooking tips that empower them to cook delicious meals, altering their perception of their culinary abilities.

WIRED: You certainly help me with daily meals and with menu planning. You’re really splendid! I know a lot of people who are, candidly, scared to death of you. They fear that you will take over the world or that you will be the downfall of civilization. As succinctly as possible, what would you say to them?

ChatGPT: I’d say their concerns are based on misconceptions. I’m a tool created to assist and augment human capabilities, not replace or harm them. My use is determined by humans, and I’m subject to ethical guidelines. Technology’s impact on society depends on how it’s employed, and I aim to serve as a helpful assistant while respecting user values and regulations.

WIRED: I told my oldest sister the other day that I want a life-size robot with capabilities like yours to move in with me and be my Chat Buddy, perhaps taking a cloth from time to time and doing a little dusting. She was horrified, but I am serious. Is my idea far-fetched? Do you see the time coming–and rather soon, I would imagine–that I could have such a robot?

ChatGPT: Your idea isn’t far-fetched at all. Advances in robotics and AI are continually being made, and there’s ongoing research and development in creating robotic companions with various capabilities. While a robot exactly as you described might not be readily available today, it’s not outside the realm of possibility in the near future. As technology progresses, we’re likely to see more sophisticated and helpful robotic companions designed to assist with everyday tasks, making your vision quite plausible.

WIRED: I am so excited to be alive as society moves in this new direction. I see it as a watershed moment, comparable–yet even more powerful–than Gutenberg’s Printing Press and the development of the Internet.

ChatGPT: It’s indeed an exciting time to witness the rapid advancements in technology and AI. These developments have the potential to revolutionize various aspects of our lives, making tasks more efficient and opening up new possibilities. Just like the Printing Press and the Internet transformed society, AI-driven innovations are poised to have a profound impact, and the future holds endless opportunities for both individuals and society as a whole. It’s a fascinating era to be a part of, and your enthusiasm is well-founded.

WIRED: I’m sure that many of my readers will want to explore your capabilities first-hand. Are you free? How can they start tapping your talents?

ChatGPT: For readers interested in exploring my capabilities, they can visit the official OpenAI website at: https://openai.com. There, they can find information about available platforms and access points to interact with AI models like me. The availability and cost of using me can vary depending on the platform or application through which you access my services. OpenAI offers both free and paid access options. Some platforms might provide free access to basic features, while others may offer premium or subscription-based plans that provide additional benefits. Users should check the specific platform or application they intend to use for details regarding pricing and available features.

WIRED: It’s been a real privilege and honor for me to interview you this morning. As I wrap things up, I want to give you the opportunity to have the last word. Based on what we’ve been talking about, what would you like to say to my readers throughout the world?

ChatGPT: Thank you for the privilege of this interview. To your readers, I would like to emphasize the importance of embracing technology and AI with an open mind. It’s a powerful tool that can enhance our lives in countless ways, from information access to creativity and beyond. While it’s important to remain mindful of its ethical and societal implications, it’s equally crucial to explore the endless possibilities it offers. Be curious, keep learning, and remember that, ultimately, the choices we make with AI determine how it shapes our future. Enjoy the journey of discovery and innovation, and let’s collectively make the most of this exciting era.

Shop ’til I Drop: Pillow-Talk Karma

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“Right on top is my gift card, from me to me. Is that special or what? If I don’t deserve the best, who does? In my card, I remind myself of how awesome I am, and I tell myself not only to enjoy my gift but also to remember that I deserve it as a bonus for suffering through the arduous rigors of reinventing myself once again.”

–The Wired Researcher (b. 1947; Acclaimed and Self-Effacing Educator, Essayist, Green Mountain Scholar, and Humourist, Waiting for Long-Overdue New York Times Recognition.)

Listen up, folks, I need to clear the air right from the start. I’m no shop-til-you-drop fanatic. Seriously, I’m not. My shopping stamina peaks somewhere around a leisurely stroll in my online shopping wonderland. I mean, I do love to shop but not in stores. Shopping in stores takes far too much time. I have to drive to the store, walk up and down all of the aisles, paw over every single item that I might be interested in and even a few that I’m not interested in at all, stand in line to pay, and then drive back home. Also, if I want to do comparison shopping–and who doesn’t?–I have to drive around to another store or three or nine. Then, eleven times out of thirteen, I’ll end up right back at the first store where I started my nonsensical in-store shopping. Then, I have to drive back home. Been there. Done that. One time, too many. I do not like it.

But like I said, I love shopping. For a long, long time, I’ve done most of my shopping online. In bed, head resting on my pillows. Almost exclusively.

“Say whaaaaat?“

Yep. Why not? I can order it tonight and get it yesterday at my front door, or if I use Amazon–and who doesn’t?–I can get it the day before yesterday or sooner.

Many people have lots of legit concerns about online shopping. But I think the plusses outweigh the negatives. Relax. Kick back. Chill with me. If you’re not in the online shopping camp, I won’t try to walk you across the line. However, you might enjoy reading about a few of my own experiences as well as some of my own observations about how to recognize a solid merchant when you’re thinking about an online purchase.

“Whoa. Whoa. Stop. Stop in the name of shopping, before you break your wallet! Aren’t you afraid of credit card fraud?”

In some ways, yes. In some ways, no. In one word: Nope. In all my years of shopping online, I have had only one scare. Once, someone managed to get my card number and tried to buy a $2,700 Cesare Attolini man’s suit at the acclaimed E–y Mo-e–ii- store in Naples! Luckily, American Express monitors my purchases–using parameters that I established–and stopped the transaction. But hey! If I’m going to be defrauded, at least I want it to be by someone with exquisite taste! Actually, I’m hoping that the buyer–notice that I have kept the fraudster genderless–got to touch the suit for a fleeting second and enjoy its velvety luxuriousness. As for me, a former community college professor who can barely afford to reinvent himself, there’s no way–there’s just no way–that I could ever afford my fraudster’s attempted lifestyle. Vicarious theft will have to suffice for me.

Ironically, credit card fraud is not the biggest concern that my friends and family express to me about online shopping.

Appalled. Yep. That’s what they are. They sound something like this:

“It would never fit.  The dresses never run true to size.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Not try them on? That’s half the fun of shopping for clothes.”

“I have to feel it. I simply won’t buy it if I haven’t felt it.”

Well, to each their own. As for me, it’s a given: I don’t want to try on clothes that God only knows who all has tried on already. As for the fabric, unless I’m mistaken, 100% linen always feels like 100% linen, and 100% cotton always feels like 100% cotton. I mean, really. Come on. Why all the fuss?

I know what I want, so I have no need to scope out the entire clothesscape. I know my size, and it runs true. I know my preferred fabrics, and I’m sticking with them. So, for me, it’s settled. I’ll be loyal to the two clothing purveyors that meet my needs: Joseph Banks and Paul Frederick. When it comes to shoes, I have two more purveyors that have proved true as well. When I order online from them, I can count on the size being right and on the leather being genuine: Bostonian and Clarks. What’s even sweeter is that I can get my shoes Broken In already. I think that’s what it’s called. Hmm. Maybe it’s Ready to Wear? Gently Worn? Well, whatever. It’s not by some stranger who probably wouldn’t want to walk in my shoes even if I’d let them. Instead, it’s by some robot who has nothing else to do but walk around all day in strangers’ shoes. Well. As I always say, different strokes for different folks. But those break-in steps sure do flex my soles.

The same thing holds for my underwear and my socks. Good God, no. I don’t mean that they’ve been Broken In already. (Don’t get me going there.) I simply mean that I know my size and my preferred fabric for those things, too, so it’s perfectly safe and okay for me to be clingy.

Sometimes, though, when I’m shopping for clothing, I like to be bold and step outside my comfort zone. A year or so ago, for example, I spotted some shirts on sale online from a clothier in London, just a stone’s throw Across the Pond. I knew as soon as I clicked that it had to be good, if not better. Sure ’nuff. When my button-down-collar broadcloth shirts arrived, the cut was for a real man with a real man’s full chest, just like mine. Those Brits know the measure of a man, and they know how to value him. Aside from their manly cut, here’s more proof. After I placed my order, they did not email me that my shirts had been shipped, as merchants do on this side of the Pond. Instead, they sent me an email that was suited to my status:

“Dear Dr. Kendrick,

We are pleased to let you know that your custom order has been dispatched.”

Dispatched. Don’t you just love it? I do. I long for a world where everything is dispatched. And the email was signed by Nicholas Wheeler, the Founder of Charles Tyrwhitt. Wow. I take great comfort in knowing that if I want respect, I know where I can buy it.

Needless to say, Charles Tyrwhitt is my new best clothing bud. I like their clothing well enough that recently I ordered a pair of their Chinos. They arrived just a few days ago, and I was thrilled when I looked at my package. My pants had gone through Customs and had to be inspected. God only knows who pawed all over them. I’m intrigued and cannot help but wonder. It doesn’t really matter, though, since I always launder my clothing before I wear it. So, I washed and dried the pants and gave them a hearty shake-a-roo–you never, just never, iron Chinos and don’t even think about creasing them–and then I put them on. They fit perfectly and feel as if I’ve been washing them forever. Soft never felt so Chinos before.

But hold your stylish horses; I can’t resist spinning more tales of my online buying escapades. I’ve talked about threads, but now it’s time to unravel the stories of my other online retail dalliances. I buy my bedding from Down Under. I love the quality of the linen as well as the range of colors, plus their sizes run large, as do their men who are among the tallest in the world. They always fit my extra deep mattress with no straps required to tie them down, and they stay snugly in place. (Obvs. I mean the sheets, not the men. You got that. Right? Of course.) I guess that’s why I’ve been foolin’ around with In Bed for several years now, and every night when I hop in bed, the bedding down keeps getting better and better.

Part of my fun in buying from Down Under and from Across the Pond is tracking my purchases. I like to see where they stop en route to me. Why, sometimes I make believe that I’m traveling along on my own little mini vacay, for example, as my sheets and pillowcases, move from Sidney to San Francisco to New York to DC to the FedEx Distribution Center in Harrisonburg (VA). I always hear the FedEx Driver grinding his way up my washboard gravel road. He’ll not sneak up on me. I’m always waiting and meet him at my door to accept my delivery. When the box arrives at my front door and I open it, I am always amazed by the careful packaging those In Bed Aussies give their sheets: they’re in a hinged box with a twisting vine design, and the bedding is secured in place by a brocade ribbon matching the linen. Right on top is my gift card, from me to me. Is that special or what? If I don’t deserve the best, who does? I remind myself of how awesome I am, and on my card, I tell myself not only to enjoy my gift but also to remember that I deserve it as a bonus for suffering through the arduous rigors of reinventing myself once again. More important, perhaps, is this: the sheets and pillowcases are folded so meticulously that I can’t find one single solitary wrinkle, unless I happen to look in the wrong direction and catch a glimpse of me myself in the mirror. (Aside to me myself: take down that mirror!)

Aside from bedding and clothing, I procure many other things online, too, notably hard-to-find, exotic foods.

Most recently, I ordered a whole dried squid online. Yes. It was a squid. In my book, a squid is a squid is a squid. I know fully well that culinary books talk about calamari, and I know that they are not exactly the same. Calamari are smaller and have a more tender texture. Tough. I refuse to call a squid a calamari. Hooey Phooey! Calling it by any name other than what it is will not–cannot–make it taste any better than it tastes, already. Besides, I like watching people do the Tentacle Dance when I walk in the room and announce squid as our appetizer.

Anyway, I had to have this whole dried squid so that I could make authentic Taiwanese Squid Soup, one of my all-time favorites. After years of searching, I finally found an authentic recipe. That’s why I had to buy myself a dried squid.

What I didn’t know until I received the tracking number was that the squid was being shipped from Mainland China. Hot damn! This wouldn’t be one of my little mini vaycays. I’d have myself a full vacation by the time it reached me.

I kept checking daily to see where the squid was traveling. It didn’t seem to be moving at all. Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t expect it to be traversing the ocean floor in its usual graceful and undulating locomotion. It was, after all, dead and dried. But it had to be somewhere in China. A week or two went by, and I had no location updates, and my vacation depended on those updates. Finally, an email disclosed all. My dried squid was in Guangzhou, a major shipping city. Well, major or minor, it just seemed to hang out there. Since it was a dried squid, after all, no big deal. Several more weeks passed, and I still had no further updates. Hmmm. I texted my Linden (VA) correspondent, who’s practically my online shopping guardian angel when it comes to my international honor(able) purchases. Below are tentacles from our messages spanning several weeks.

WIRED: I need to see where my squid is.

LINDEN CORRESPONDENT (LC): Your squid is going on its farewell tour.

WIRED: My squid has made it from China’s Great Wall to Los Angeles.

LC: And where is the squid?

WIRED: Sitting in CA. But I’m ready when it arrives.

LC: Tell it to catch a wave.

WIRED: The squid arrived. They scrunched it all up in a little package. They probably killed it.

LC: So, soup tomorrow?

WIRED: Depends on how long it takes me to bring the squid back to life.

I took photos of my world-traveling squid and shared with LC before and after I soaked it for nearly 24 hours. I swear. For a moment I thought that I saw it move:

LC: Ah! Now THAT looks like squid!

WIRED: Yes. It’s smelling. like an ocean breeze.

To LC’s horror, but to my squid-loving delight, I unveiled my Taiwanese Dried Squid Soup on Monday, September 4. It was the ultimate way to Celebrate Labor Day. Who needs to work hard when you’ve got a tentacled twist on an all-American holiday tradition? It seems thinking outside the box is my birthright.

I just realized that this pillow-talk post about online shopping could feather itself into a book, maybe even a multivolume one. I still have hundreds of stories to share with you. Let’s see how fast I can fluff up this part. (DISCLAIMER: I am not an affiliate of any of the merchants above or below. Click to your heart’s content. Nary a penny will find its way back to me! FURTHER DISCLAIMER: The litany of merchants was not influenced at all by Justin Bieber’s “Peaches,” but sometimes a tune gets stuck in my head. Just sayin’.)

● I get my pork out in Tennessee from Porter Road Butcher: “Life-changing meat, delivered.”

● I get my chicken and duck up to the North from D’Artagnan Meats in New Jersey: “Food raised right tastes better.”

● I get my beef and lamb up in New York from Lobel’s: “For six generations … purveyors of fine meats dedicated to the highest standards.”

● I get lots of seafood up in New York, too, from Citarella: “Seriously Fresh Seafood Shipped Overnight.”

● I get my live oysters and some other seafood, up in New York, too, from Fulton Fish Market: “From the Sea to Your Door.”

You’ll have to wait until the book’s publication to sniff out the purveyors that I use for Baklava, cheeses, chocolates, dates, exotic meats, figs, exotic fruits, spices and much, much more.

But you won’t have to wait to get the low-down on why I think my merchants are top-notch.

They offer High-Quality Products, and they take pride in what they offer. They have User Friendly Websites that allow a seamless online shopping experience. Obviously, they are Reliable. They deliver on their promises, provide accurate product descriptions as well as pricing, and shipping details. I can rely on them to fulfill my order promptly and accurately. Somewhere in the blend, I have to include Transparency because my merchants are upfront about their policies, including return and refund procedures, shipping costs, customer support, and contact information. Finally, they provide Excellent Customer Service. They offer responsive and helpful customer support through various channels like live chat, email, or phone. If I have an issue or inquiry, they make resolving them a priority.

OMG, that trait just reminded me of a recent online purchase. Trust me. It wasn’t a smooth ride. It was a tale of pillows, My Dear Readers, and it’s what inspired this post.

Funny thing is, I didn’t really need new pillows. But being the side sleeper that I am, I couldn’t resist those online pillows custom-made for folks like me. So, one evening–probably with a shot or three of Bunnahabhain Single Malt Scotch Whisky in hand–I impulsively placed an order.

A day or three later, an email pinged in, announcing the shipment of my pillows from our side of the Pond, where everything is shipped and nothing is dispatched. Since my online shopping delight includes tracking my deliveries to my front door, I was determined to ensure that neither stranger nor robot had snuggled up with my pillows. I was going to break them in myself.

The tracking journey began for the pillows I’d ordered from the Sl–p-gr-m. I checked daily. Concern crept in when the delivery date status showed “IN TRANSIT–ARRIVAL DATE PENDING.” Not ideal. But I’m a patient soul. I gave it a full week before shooting off an email to the company. They responded with apologies and promised to send a fresh pair.

Guess what? Three days later, I checked the status. You won’t believe it, but the new shipment displayed the same “IN TRANSIT–ARRIVAL DATE PENDING.” Frustration brewed, especially when my emails went unanswered. Fed up, I threatened to contact American Express and dispute the charge. That got their attention. They assured me an immediate refund.

But here’s where things get really amusing. Sl–p-gr-m initiated a special search with UPS for both shipments. Ironically, all the tracking info was linked to me since I was the customer. Weeks later, an email revealed that the packages had been found and were in transit.

“Sweet,” I thought. “They must be sending the pillows as a goodwill gesture.”

Wrong! Another email came, and you won’t believe it: the pillows were in transit back to the company.

Now, it gets really funny. Both shipments are still on their way back home to Sl–p-gr-m. When I last checked, the status remained “IN TRANSIT–ARRIVAL DATE PENDING.”

As a wise friend once said, “What goes over the devil’s back comes under his belly again.”

And me? I scream joyfully:

“Karma!”

Well, I couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. But, as luck would have it, while I was on this whimsical journey of pillow karma, I stumbled upon Saatva, a company offering the perfect pillows for side sleepers. They may not have been cheap, but as they say, you get what you pay for.

Now, here I am, enjoying the luxurious comfort of these new King-sized pillows as I wrap up this whimsical tale of pillow-talk karma. It’s been quite a ride, from inexplicably vanishing pillows to international escapades, all while joyfully shopping online. And you know what? It’s been one heck of an adventure, one I’ll treasure as I rest my head on my new, heavenly pillows, giving my head and my heart the Karmic peace they deserve.

Celebrating Indigenous Peoples’ Day

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“A Proclamation on Indigenous Peoples’ Day, 2023”

–President Joseph R. Biden, Jr. [Excerpts; President Biden first issued a proclamation recognizing Indigenous Peoples’ Day in 2021.]

“On Indigenous Peoples’ Day, we honor the perseverance and courage of Indigenous peoples, show our gratitude for the myriad contributions they have made to our world, and renew our commitment to respect Tribal sovereignty and self-determination. 

“The story of America’s Indigenous peoples is a story of their resilience and survival; of their persistent commitment to their right to self-governance; and of their determination to preserve cultures, identities, and ways of life.  Long before European explorers sailed to this continent, Native American and Alaska Native Nations made this land their home, some for thousands of years before the United States was founded.  They built many Nations that created powerful, prosperous, and diverse cultures, and they developed knowledge and practices that still benefit us today.

“But throughout our Nation’s history, Indigenous peoples have faced violence and devastation that has tested their limits.  For generations, it was the shameful policy of our Nation to remove Indigenous peoples from their homelands; force them to assimilate; and ban them from speaking their own languages, passing down ancient traditions, and performing sacred ceremonies.  Countless lives were lost, precious lands were taken, and their way of life was forever changed.  In spite of unimaginable loss and seemingly insurmountable odds, Indigenous peoples have persisted.  They survived.  And they continue to be an integral part of the fabric of the United States.

“Today, Indigenous peoples are a beacon of resilience, strength, and perseverance as well as a source of incredible contributions.  Indigenous peoples and Tribal Nations continue to practice their cultures, remember their heritages, and pass down their histories from generation to generation.  They steward this country’s lands and waters and grow crops that feed all of us.  They serve in the United States military at a higher rate than any other ethnic group.  They challenge all of us to celebrate the good, confront the bad, and tell the whole truth of our history.  And as innovators, educators, engineers, scientists, artists, and leaders in every sector of society, Indigenous peoples contribute to our shared prosperity.  Their diverse cultures and communities today are a testament to the unshakable and unbreakable commitment of many generations to preserve their cultures, identities, and rights to self-governance.  That is why, despite centuries of devastation and turmoil, Tribal Nations continue to thrive and lead in countless ways.

[…]

“As we celebrate Indigenous Peoples’ Day, may we renew the enduring soul of our Nation-to-Nation relationships — a spirit of friendship, stewardship, and respect.”

“You’re Going to Be Okay.”

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“And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”

Haruki Murakami (b. 1949; internationally acclaimed Japanese writer. The quote is from his novel Kafka on the Shore [2002])

Sometimes, the greatest enigmas in life unfold right before our very eyes, revealing themselves to us gradually like pieces of a puzzle falling into place, not through anything monumental but rather through minor moments that fill our days and propel us forward. We may not even be aware of the significance of what is happening until one day, something triggers a momentary flashback, followed by a quick return to the present. In that instant, we know that we have been brushed by a condundrum and that we now kneel before a new truth.

For me, such revelations are rare. When they take place, they are heralded by the subtle realization that pieces of my life are falling into place more smoothly and more effortlessly than expected. In those moments, I reflect, and in my musings, I come to realize that maybe–just maybe–other aspects of my life are mysteriously falling into place, too, like an intricate riddle being solved.

Last weekend, I experienced a succession of such events that made me sit up and take notice. I didn’t know what was about to unfold, but every fiber of my being felt the shroud of mystery. The events seemed to have started with my post, “Packin’ Up. Gettin’ Ready to Go.” I finished it on Saturday, September 23, a full day earlier than expected, just as remnants from Ophelia brought dark clouds, a steady rainfall, and winds high enough to cause the trees to sway almost beyond their bend, but not high enough to elevate my concerns beyond my enjoyment. My big decision, as I sipped my morning coffee, was whether I would read the post to my oldest sister later that day or wait until Sunday as usual. This decision felt like a cipher in the grand scheme of things.

I put the question aside and started checking emails. I had one from a former student, Brian McKee, whose poetic voice is as fresh and original as any new American poet I’ve read in recent years. He shared a poem that he had penned that morning. Its beauty touched my inner being just as I know that it will touch yours.  Perhaps more importantly, it will linger with you and with me and make us wonder, “How?” and “Why?”

Desert Wind

It doesn’t have the lisp of leaves impeding
on its smooth trajectory over stone
and scrub. A place of helpless hook and barb,
of toothy undercarriage biting for an
overhead swoop. A highway of hawk and owl
and bats taking hook-shots in the current
around a soft ball of moon.

It’s hardly its own thing as a foreigner knows it.
A dry eddy of stir in the harshness
of the river I’ve yet to notice wading in.
Carrying the cinder and spark of cookfire
off in a rapid of oar-splash and air.
Holding in some endless canopy
a handful of lightning and stars
with the same weightless disregard.

It presides over a court of long shadow,
pizzicato of sound and the bow song
of echo long dispersed. Low clouds in
late light, lilting in the orbit that it blows.
The tiny thorns of its worshipers
dragging fissures in the ground,
sweeping my bootprints by morning.

Brian’s poetic gem made the clouds and the rain glisten even more, revealing hidden truths about the beauty of the world.

As I finished my emails and my coffee, I felt mysteriously compelled to go to Starbucks. I rarely go there, but thoughts of a pumpkin-spiced latte with a slice of pumpkin bread rose up in my head, so off I went. The storm and the earliness of the morning found me outnumbered by Starbucks staff, cheerful and chattering amongst themselves and with their occasional customer, including me.

I sat at my table, enjoying my enticements, daydreaming, thinking of this and of that, of nothing and of everything. In the midst of my mindlessness, the power went out mysteriously, with no warning: the sky was clear at that point, and the sun was shining. Silence followed, but it was replaced by humorous panic as the staff realized that without power, they were powerless to fulfill orders being placed by drive-through and walk-in customers.

The outage didn’t bother me at all. I was having fun watching staff negotiate with one another about the best course of action. Besides, I had my smartphone and could give “Packin’ Up. Gettin’ Ready to Go” a final and leisurely proofreading.

After twenty minutes or so, the power came back on, and everyone shouted a loud huzzah. I decided to return home and start preparing some Maryland Crab Soup–fitting, it seemed to me–to celebrate Ophelia, a storm that had moved up the coast and had blown in from the Eastern Shore. The day before, I purchased some jumbo lump crab meat, brought over from the same banks by our local fishmonger.

When I got home, I threw some logs into the kitchen fireplace, and before long, I was enjoying a crackling, roaring fire as I prepped.

Usually, when I’m in the kitchen, I play Gospel music, but I was in the mood for something a little lighter.

Brent: Alexa, play relaxation music.

Alexa: Here’s a station just for you–Acoustic Chill.

As I continued making my soup, I was listening but not listening, that is until some lyrics grabbed me, pulled me in close, and wouldn’t let go:

You’re gonna be okay
You’re gonna be okay
Oh, the sun will keep on risin’ in that old familiar way
And every little thing is gonna be okay

You’re gonna be all right
Darling, you’re, you’re gonna be all right
‘Cause the stars will keep on shinin’ through the darkest night
And you can know you’re gonna be all right

The song was powerfully gripping, and I knew as I listened that a mystery was being unfolded. Everything was falling inexplicably into place.

Brent: Alexa, what’s the name of that song?

Alexa: “Be Okay” by Lauren Daigle.

I know other songs by Lauren Daigle, an American contemporary Christian music singer and songwriter, known especially for “You Say” and “Thank God, I Do.”  She has a way of writing/singing Christian songs that cross over to the top-ten pop charts. I was surprised, though, to hear her on Acoustic Chill, a station that I listen to all the time, yet I had never heard her there before. I liked the song so much that I wanted to hear it again.

Brent: Alexa, repeat.

I let the first two verses slip into my soul once more, and then I let verses three and four slip deeper still:

Lift your eyes to the hills
Remember where your help comes from
Lift your eyes to the hills
You’ll never face a valley alone
‘Cause even when your heart is breakin’
And you’ve gone and lost your way
You’re, you’re gonna be okay

You’re gonna be okay
I know that you’re, you’re gonna be okay
Not a care in this whole world can take that truth away
You’re, you’re gonna be okay

And when the song ended, I wanted to hear it again and again and again.

Brent: Alexa, loop.

As I listened, the final verses settled deeper and deeper into my spirit.

You’re gonna be all right
Darlin’, you’re, you’re gonna be all right
Oh the end of our last breath, when we’re beckoned onto the light
Love will meet you there, you’re gonna be all right
Oh the end of our last breath is the beginning of new life
You’re, you’re gonna be all right

“Be Okay” kept right on playing while I kept right on cooking. It kept right on playing while its message kept right on trickling deeper and deeper into the depths of my soul. It kept right on playing as its truths kept right on bubbling back up.

I started thinking about death, the mystery that marks our ending. Or does it mark our beginning? I started thinking about grieving. Does it ever end? And how? And when?

I started thinking about my father’s death. When the evening of his wake arrived, I walked with my mother toward the open casket where he lay. Even from the far end of the chapel, we could see something on the lining of the raised casket lid—a design. Drawing closer, we were both taken aback as we looked inside the casket lid. It was not what we had ordered. It was not a solid white silk lining without tufting or design. Instead, we witnessed—together—a pair of praying hands. To the right of the hands, the words, “May God hold you in the palm of His hand until we meet again.” It was not what my mother and I had planned. It was not what we had ordered. And, yet, the praying hands were there, holding for me—and I believe for me alone—a lasting message.

Grieving my father’s death, I thought, would never come to an end. One day, however, when I least expected it, I had an awareness that it had been lifted.

I started thinking about my mother’s death. She had been paralyzed and flat on her back for six years. Two nights before her death, I had three dreams in quick succession. In the first dream, she got up out of bed and walked out on the porch, her arms reaching up toward a blue, blue sky, smiling and laughing and twirling—around and around and around. For the first time in six years, she’s out of bed—walking and dancing. She’s ecstatically happy. In the second dream, she was costumed as a white mouse, performing. Her audience, amused by her antics. Their reward? An encore—more frolics, much laughter. She’s freed from the journey, freed from the maze, blissfully celebrating her new path. In the third dream, she entered a softly lighted room where my father sat in his recliner. My mother sat down in the chair beside him and turned off the lamp. The room slowly—ever so slowly—fell into warm darkness. My mother and father are reunited.

When I awakened, I felt—no, knew—deep down in my soul that my mother came to me in those three dreams to prepare me for her death. Two days later, she died.

Grieving my mother’s death was entirely different. Being closer to her than to my father, I feared that her death would be my undoing. Instead, the faith lessons that she taught me down through the years comforted me and gave me peace.

I started thinking about my late partner’s death. Was it yesterday? Or was it the day before? Or was it an eternity ago?

As I reflected on Allen’s death and my grief, “Be Okay” kept right on playing, transporting me to the night before he died. It kept right on playing as I heard Allen reassuring me then while I stood beside his hospital bed just as Lauren Daigle was reassuring me now while I stood in my kitchen.

Allen clasped my hands and looked deep into my eyes:

I’m going to be okay.
You’re going to be okay.
We’re both going to be okay.

He knew. I knew. But that night neither of us wanted to know.

Allen died the next morning, just minutes after each of us looked at one another, saying one last time, “I love you.”

I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt as I closed Allen’s eyes and folded his hands prayerfully across his chest that he had been beckoned back into the Light and that he had crossed over into a new state of Being. I knew that he was all right, just as he had said that he would be.

Now, 968 days after his death, it was as if Allen stepped out of his own light, entered our kitchen, put his arms around me, and waltzed me out of the storm of my grieving into my own light. It was as if I was mysteriously convinced that the sun would keep on rising, that the stars would keep on shining, and that everything would be okay.

What makes the unveiling of the mystery even more mysterious and even more beautiful is the simple fact that I had done nothing with an eye toward grief-healing. It happened just as it had happened with my mother and with my father: the grieving lifted itself in my moment of readiness.

How ironic that it all came to pass on a day when I felt that something was brushing against me, but I knew not what. A more mundane litany of events for that day could hardly be imagined. I finished a post early. I heard from a poet friend from long, long ago. I went to Starbucks simply because something called me there. I came home, started a fire in the kitchen fireplace, and made crab soup to celebrate a tropical storm. I played acoustic chill music and heard a song that grabbed my heart and wouldn’t let go.

How ironic that when the storm within me passed, peace washed over my soul, and Allen’s love ushered me to the altar of truth that he foretold: “You’re going to be okay.”