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The Happiness, Toils and Tribulations of AI

How’s It Working for You?

AI is here to stay. The best thing to do is to embrace it. A few weeks ago, I wrote “What Does AI Really Know About You?” and “Is AI Really That Smart?”

Time to move on and discuss my latest findings. I have been on several Zooms, a breakfast (the bagels and lox were good, but not from Brooklyn), and conference calls about it. AI helps with streamlining basic activities. In the media relations world, it is great to research reporters and publications. I have found it more helpful than the pricey databases (Cision and Meltwater) we all use. Yes, those platforms are incorporating AI into their system. Like all things moving forward with AI, it is getting there. Remember, once there were three TV stations – ABC, CBS, and NBC. Look at where we are now.

Many people are using AI to draft emails and corporate memos and to create visual aids. Does it take the human touch out of things? Sure. It is cookie-cutter style. When I upload these blogs to AI tools to see what it thinks, it makes important corrections by catching typos and offer suggestions.

That’s great. But it takes the personalization out. I mentioned characters from “E.T. – The Extra Terrestrial” in “Keys” on Substack. I mentioned Keys, played by Peter Coyote, and went to stay with Gertie, played by Drew Barrymore, who is a better character. In my opinion its true. Most people probably remember her telling E.T. to be good in her tearful goodbye.

E.T. at the Museum of Moving Image, Astoria, NY

I was personalizing my post. AI told me not to. It seemed to think personalization would be distracting or not flow. Did I cut it out? No. I cleaned up my reference, and all of a sudden, AI loved it. Go figure.

The holy medicinal waters at Coney Island

The questions raised are: how creative can AI get? I took a few continuing education writer classes with the Gotham Writers Workshop. Highly recommended. We discussed this. Our thoughts came back to the standard thinking with AI as it grows – Use It and Verify. Don’t completely trust it. But learn how it will help you move forward. It can help your creativity. Just like seeing certain waves at Coney Island when you are shooting images of the Polar Bears.

Sounds like the rule of thumb for everything. It is all a learning experience that helps us get smarter.

Should They Have Called Me?

Do I Care?

About a week ago, the USA celebrated its 250th Anniversary. I remember the 200th. My dad and I watched the Tall Ships Parade by the South Street Seaport. I was very young. But have memories of it. Some of my soon-to-be summer camp friends were at Liberty Island, and a phrase that would become famous at camp was uttered for the first time.

I am sure in ’76 and this year, many went to BBQs and the beach and watched fireworks. I always enjoyed watching the fireworks. I was hardly allowed to light any. Once in a while, I snuck in a bottle rocket.

I wanted to watch this year’s fireworks. But I had my own fireworks. I spent it in the ER. I went in the early evening and was discharged shortly after midnight. I am fine. But did experience some discomfort for three or four days after I saw the doctor. He said all is well, told me what to watch for over the next few days, and to schedule a follow-up.

I actually had an appointment to see him in August for a routine follow-up. We kept that date. I jumped into an Uber, went home and saw Paul Simon at the Forest Hills Tennis Stadium. I am fine.

During the few days of discomfort, I stayed home. I only ventured outside once to go to the bank and get some vegetables and whatever other food I forgot to order from Fresh Direct. I did what I needed to do.

I am involved in many organizations and chair one of them. In the case of all of them, I am doing things for and with them both at their respective venues or online almost daily. I kept my online presence up. But that’s only posting to social media and maybe sending out an email or two. That’s for one org. The other all takes place at the venue.

I am fairly private with many things. Of course, my mom knew what was going on. She told my sister. I only told three or four people that I went to the ER. Some I told while I was there. Some of the next day. I even spoke to one of them while they were drawing blood. Well, maybe not at that exact time. But close enough. He had called me as I was walking to the hospital. I wound up butt-dialing him from the ER. We had a few good laughs about our crazy group and my situation.

As for the other place, not one person reached out while I was MIA. I contribute financially and do other things. In the old days, the leaders, one of whom passed away in 2020 and the other of whom moved in 2024, would have called to ask where I was. If I told them I was not feeling well, they would have sent over food and asked if I needed anyone to run to CVS to pick up medications. Those days are done.

A few days ago, I was back. One of the leaders said, “Where were you?” I said I wasn’t feeling well. They said everyone was concerned because you weren’t here. I said, well, you could have called, texted, LinkedIn, Snapped, Facebooked, etc. With a laugh, he said, nah. Not us. The next day, I was back. Several people asked the same question. I went through the same situation I did the night before and received the same response.

Should they have reached out? I don’t know. Within their clique, they reach out to each other 24/7. Does it make a difference to me that no one had the decency to check in? Not at all. I didn’t expect it. And I am strong enough to know it’s not a slight. It’s life.

Keys

We All Carry Keys – Are they the Keys to One’s Heart, Memories, Your Residence or Car?

When you think of keys, the first that probably comes to mind are keys to your house or apartment. Maybe for those of us who own cars, you think of your car keys. Of course, these days cars and many homes open electronically.

Perhaps you think of the keys to opening the heart of the woman you like, and she’d date you. I doubt you think of the character Keys, played by Peter Coyote in “E.T. – The Extra Terrestrial.” There are better characters to think of, such as Gertie.

I would think we all own a few sets of house keys in our lifetime. I remember when I got my first set of keys. I was about 8 or 9, and they were for the house my parents, sister, and I lived in on Staten Island. Eventually, I got the car keys to my first car. It was my father’s Caddy. It became mine. I loved that vehicle. It was fun to cruise Staten Island while playing the Cure or Depeche Mode. When I took it to college, it was easy to make friends when you were on campus with a car. I drove everyone around. I played the same music.

I got residence hall and off-campus apartment keys at SUNY-New Paltz, and eventually keys to the apartments I rented and the one I now own. I own it. But currently, the bank owns me. Soon enough, it won’t.

Years ago, after my father died, I had the keys to his Plant City, Fla., home. I sold it. The keys are gone. I don’t have the keys to my mom’s house anymore. I used to for many years after I moved out. Eventually, she got new doors that required different locks. At one point, I had the keys to my sister’s first apartment. We basically lived next to each other. Nor do I have the keys to my prior dwellings. Why would I keep them? They wouldn’t open any doors.

In addition to the Caddy, I have had two Nissan Sentras. I remember selling the third one. I still have one of the keys. Why? I have no idea. I doubt the car is still running. It was 2002. But maybe. I kept my second car from 1992 to 2002. It was in six figures in mileage.

There are the keys to opening the hearts of the people I like. Those keys do not fit the lock—nothing more to say.

I remember when my grandmother gave me the keys to her Brooklyn apartment. She kept giving me sets of keys. Eventually, one of the sets worked. She told me one might have been my grandfather’s set. He’s been gone for a while. Too long. One might have been the set she gave to a friend, and the list goes on. Eventually, I got the keys to her building and apartment.

Of course, half the time I visited her, I never remembered them. I had to call her when I got there to be buzzed in. She can’t really hear. So, I had to call a few times. A few weeks ago, she went into the home (nursing home). She is now 99 years old. I’ve visited. It is hard to see her there. My mom, my aunt, and my uncle cleaned out her apartment. It was a rent-stabilized unit. She’s been there since before I was born. I figure the building will put it on the market. When the apartment was empty, my mom returned the keys to the super. My sets are in my kitchen—doubt they’d open the door anymore. Weeks ago, while she was still living there and we knew she was leaving, I mentioned to my mom that I guess I could toss the keys into the incinerator. She said not yet. Sadly, I think the time has come. But still holding on to them.

While I may no longer have the physical keys to my cars, dwellings, or whomever it is I like, I will always carry the vaulted memories of what they opened or could have opened.

What Does the Venue Think?

By Mitchell Slepian

Last night, I saw Paul Simon at the Forest Hills Tennis Stadium. A few days ago, I was at Yankee Stadium. Just before that, I saw Lenny Kaye in the Loft at City Winery, Human League with Soft Cell and Alison Moyet at Radio City Music Hall, and Kim Deal at Pier 17. Future shows will be at the Beacon and Garden. Speaking of the Garden, we all know Taylor Swift married there on July 3.

Paul Simon at Forest Hills Tennis Stadium

All shows brought their expected crowds. We had the aging hippies, the artsy and all-black-wearing new wave and goth crowds, and, of course, those of us decked out from head to toe in our NY Yankees apparel. It didn’t help. They embarrassed themselves by allowing the Twins to pound them. Seems to be a trend. George and the Stick must be rolling around in their graves.

Many of us have felt the Garden shake during performances by The Who or felt connected to Bono. We’ve come to a new understanding of the world while listening to the top-notch songwriting and skills of the Cure and Depeche Mode. We ached that Siouxsie Sioux only did a few shows and did not come to NYC.

But did you ever wonder what the arena feels like? We know what the Stadium feels. It wants the Yankees to bring home that trophy. It’s been far too long. Sure, these venues are concrete and steel. But do they have feelings? Do they have a sense of what’s happening inside them? Does the Garden ever say to Radio City Music Hall, I wish the Human League were on my stage? I doubt the Stadium talks to Fenway Park. They hate each other. Or maybe they complain about the fans or certain players?

Forest Hills Tennis must have been happy to have its local Forest Hills High School boy, Paul Simon, performing at its arena. Although the schoolyard in “Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard” is never officially named. Per the lyrics, it is in Corona. I have been to the schoolyards; it is believed to be. As I was listening to him perform it, I wondered how many people in the venue had ever traveled to the yards he meant. What does that schoolyard think?

Do the venues have favorite artists? Do they prefer the classic rock, goth, or pop crowds? Does it give off feelings that enhance or hurt the show? Does it get excited when one band does three or four nights? I saw Billy Joel’s residency at Madison Square Garden a few times. Does the Garden kick back into Billy’s coming tonight, and will we have his awesome crows? What does it think when Robert Smith takes the stage with the Cure, and they play in darkness vs. the more top 40 shows that light up the place? Does it prefer bands that really honed their craft to those that are marketing projects created to sell tickets and push downloads? Maybe I need to ask it. It might laugh at me. Or whisper back its thoughts.

Wednesday Matinees

Who are Better Theater Goers – Seniors or Young Adults?

By Mitchell Slepian

A week ago on a Wednesday, I saw the Don Quixote ballet as part of the American Ballet, performed at the Metropolitan Opera House. Mom and I had orchestra seats. I have seen many operas and love this theater. This was the first time I had orchestra seats.

The theater was loaded with senior citizens. Some came with their respective senior and religious organizations. Wednesdays are typical days for both seniors and young adults to attend matinees or visit museums. Countless times, I have walked through the Guggenheim, the Whitney, and other venues and noticed this occurrence.

Who acts more mature? Who is more respectful? Well, when the kids walk in, their eyes often light up. For many, it might be the first time they’ve been to the theater or the Guggenheim. Yes, they are on their phones taking tons of pictures of each other. Some get a little more dressed up than today’s teen apparel. Some don’t.

As for the seniors, they are on their phones, too. They snap a few shots. They complain about the security and how this theater does it differently from the other one. I am a regular at all of Lincoln Center’s theaters. The complaints I heard while waiting to go through security were off base. Although each of the Center’s theaters is independent of the others, the security is pretty much the same. The kids just dealt with it and took more images.

Eventually, everyone got to their seats. Everyone sat and waited for the curtain to rise. It did. Who was quieter and stuffed their phones into their pockets? The kids. Who didn’t stop talking? The seniors. Why? Who knows?

During the performance, many of us had to get up to use the restrooms, and the line was long. Who was more respectful while walking down the aisles? Guess. At the end of the show, I noticed empty candy wrappers and water bottles on the theater floor. Several rows looked like a garbage dump. The kids were not seated in those. Their rows were clean.

Jay and Christy Meet Up

Jay’s been lying low. He knows what his cousin, Christy, has been doing. The two do not know each other well. They probably would compete for attention. But Jay thought it might be good for the two of them to meet up.

Jay knows Christy spends most of her time wreaking havoc at Coney Island. He decided he’d get there early on Thursday. He arrived and quietly went into Nathan’s for a hot dog, fries, and Coney Island Mermaid Pilsner. He came off as a typical customer. He wore jeans, shorts, sneakers, and a faded Mets shirt. His t-shirt choices are often another thing that pissed off Marc and Alana, the two diehard fans of the Bronx Bombers.

He quietly munched on his food while sipping his pilsner. He heard screams. He knew the rides were opening and figured they were coming from the people on the Thunderbolt. Nah. He looked toward the boardwalk and saw his cousin on the prowl.

Jay got up and walked towards her. He yelled out her name. She turned around and saw him. She grinned and kept attacking little kids on the boardwalk and landed several pieces of stale bread onto the beach. He was about three feet away from her. She glanced at him and kept firing at the children.

Christy fired at Jay. He was not surprised. He fired glass at her volley of bread and knocked it down mid-flight. She managed to hit him in the head. He retaliated. It looked like the two of them would wage war over who reigns as the chief nemesis.

Reading Books, You Snagged from a Friend

By Mitchell Slepian

About a week ago, several of my friends gathered at the home of one of our dearest friends, brothers, and mentors. He is getting on in year. We were packing up things he is donating. He and his wife sat in the living room while we packed and dined on turkey sandwiches. It was a bittersweet moment.

Our friend is involved in many organizations and is a retired engineer who helped build NYC’s subway system. His home is chock-full of memorabilia from all his interests, including many books on the history of our nation’s infrastructure. Some are written for engineers. Some for the general public. I snagged a few books. Of the infrastructure books, I took the ones written for the average Joe.

Last Saturday, I started reading “The Road Taken: The History and Future of America’s Infrastructure” by Henry Petroski, a professor of civil engineering at Duke University. I am about halfway through it. While reading, I was thinking about my take on the history Petroski was telling. He’s written several other books. I plan to read a few.

As I turned the pages, I put myself in my friend’s chair and started thinking about how he understood the topics in comparison to me. I know he’d have a better grasp of the subject matter and may have worked on some of the projects discussed in the book. For me, it was a learning experience because it was a new topic. I plan to read and learn more. I like it, as it is different for me, and change is the only constant.

Then I thought of other books I got from friends and some comic books that I was given at various comic cons. Were their thoughts of this literature channeling through me? Would I understand it better or worse? Of course, for the books from family and friends, I likely knew why they read them. Some of the giveaways from the comic cons were probably read for similar reasons. Like me, they like the Incredible Hulk.

Happy Holidays or Merry Christmas?

What About Other Holidays?

By Mitchell Slepian

For years, people have debated whether it is more appropriate to say “Merry Christmas,” “Happy Chanukah,” or the more general “Happy Holidays” or “Season’s Greetings.” Hallmark once produced simpler cards for that purpose, and e-card companies do the same today.

Every year, I send Chanukah cards to people I know who celebrate it and other holiday cards to those who do not. I make all my cards myself, using my own photos and high-quality printing from Printique by Adorama. I do this for a few other holidays as well, and I also send the cards by email.

Yesterday was Father’s Day. Someone I had never met wished me a happy Father’s Day. I chair a committee for one of the organizations I belong to, and he was running an event. A few months ago, he texted to ask whether my committee would participate. We exchanged information, and I attended. I had a great time, although the event chair did not show up. I had not heard from him in a while, but I expected to hear from him about a future event. I would want my crew to be there because the exposure is valuable.

Early this morning, I glanced at my iPhone and saw his “Happy Father’s Day” text. I do not have children and probably never will. My father passed away in April of 2014. I do not think I saw him on Father’s Day the year before. Maybe. He lived in Florida. I am in NYC. Sometimes I flew down, or he flew up.

Anyway, why would someone who doesn’t know me wish me a Happy Father’s Day? Yes, he friended me on Facebook. Perhaps he looked at my posts. The last time I posted was the summer of 2020. I was zooming with a friend. She was lounging in her bed with her dogs. I posted the screenshot. If you looked at my posts from six years ago, it is obvious I do not have kids. All my friends post pictures of important moments with their children. For example, graduations, becoming an Eagle Scout, being the lead in a school show, or winning a sports competition.

To me, his text made no sense. It annoyed me. I have always erred on the side of being politically correct during holidays so as not to insult anyone. But never thought Father’s Day would fall into that. I always wish my mother and grandmother a Happy Mother’s Day and extend my wishes to a few aunts and a friend or two whose kids I am close to. But I know they are celebrating. I don’t consider this a winter holiday when you may not know what someone celebrates. Maybe they celebrate Festivus? I figured Father’s Day is easier. Either you’re a dad, or you’re not. Or your dad is around, and you should be wishing him a great day.

So, what did I do for Father’s Day? I did something I never did; I went to the cemetery and visited my father and all my relatives nearby. I did some grocery shopping and sadly watched the Yankees lose.

Did You Receive a Rejection Letter After an Interview?

Did It Make You Question the Quality of the Company You Interviewed With?

By Mitchell Slepian

A few weeks ago, I received an email asking me to set up an interview with an organization I was interested in working for. The interview would be with its chief of staff. She was the sender of the email. I read it carefully and noticed that she wanted to interview for a role I did not apply for. I had done none of the work this role required. I searched the website. Sure enough, that role and the one I wanted were on the job board.

About an hour later, she sent me a note apologizing for typing in the wrong role and said we would talk about the position I applied for. We figured out a time to connect.

I wound up doing the interview two days earlier than planned. Out of the blue, she emailed to ask if I could hop on Zoom. I did. It was supposed to be 15 minutes. We stayed on for around 30. I sent the thank-you note and included some things I could bring to the table if hired.

The next morning, I got the rejection letter. I was upset. The job was a carbon copy of many roles I had. There wasn’t one thing they asked that I hadn’t done. I have the portfolio to prove it. Then I read the note again. She included the lead sentence twice. The note had punctuation marks randomly added. There were a few typos and poor verb usage. I am still upset I was rejected. I want to work there. But it makes me wonder if the chief of staff cannot properly proofread what was more or less a three-sentence note, what does that tell me about the organization?

This was far from the first time I had received notes like this or had other “interesting” experiences. Have you experienced notes along the lines of this one?

Being Rejected When Offering to Volunteer

By Mitchell Slepian

I volunteer for many organizations. I am the chairman of the Ten Mile River Scout Camps Museum. I was vice president of my co-op’s board and built the PR function for American Friends of ELEM, which now has a professional team.

When I volunteered on many political campaigns, I helped run the campaign office. We lived in it. It was fun. We won some. We lost fun. We ate too much junk food. But had a lot of good pizza. Nothing’s better.

I belong to most of NYC’s museums. A few weeks ago, one of them sent an email seeking volunteers for a specific program. I was available during the times they were hoping for people to work and had done some of the work they wanted you to do. I sent an email offering my time.

Weeks went by, and I thought they had forgotten about me. Two days ago, I got an email from them saying that many people had applied and that they could not accommodate everyone. Therefore, they picked the first batch of emails. They thanked us and said if you’re still interested in volunteering to email their volunteer coordinator. I did.

She responded very quickly and told me they didn’t have any opportunities for me. They’d keep my note on file. I learned very young never to turn away a volunteer. In all of the groups I have worked with, we always found work for people to do.

Just last week, I assisted in a volunteer work effort. We had about 10 people packing up donated items for a future museum display. Some people who came have mobility issues, and some are too old to lug boxes up and down a few flights of stairs. Their knees would go out. Did we tell them not to work? Not at all. We found so much constructive work for them to do that they were busy for hours. We fed everyone. We had many food options.

We accomplished a lot over about 4 or 5 hours. The next step is to sort through what we packed and see what we will keep. A few of us already started and filled many trash bags.

The great thing was that we all worked together. We got the job done, and no one was turned away. The entire group will be back for the next volunteer session. Never turn away a volunteer.