Mitchell's thoughts, photos, etc.

AI and the Arts

Is it Helpful or Does it Destroy Creativity? Will it Make Coney Island or NYC’s Flowers and Rivers Look Better?

I’ve been to some in-person breakfasts and/or lunches (remember those) and attended several Zooms (we all know those) where we’ve discussed the progression of AI. Make no mistake, it is progressing.

One of the things we discussed in the side conversations or hallway chats is how it affects the arts. I had a similar discussion with people who are writing and performing their own music. They’ve played in some of NYC’s bars. Hopefully, one day, one will headline Madison Square Garden.

The big topic is: does AI help or hurt the Arts? I know people who are now creating art using AI. Is that how we should use it? Use it as a collaborative tool. It will make your work better.

We have spoken about how, in a few decades, we will enter the Guggenheim and see art created by AI? Will it rival the pieces painted by Cezzanne, Monet, Picasso, Pissarro, and Van Gogh? Unlikely. I doubt it can capture the feelings they had while painting. But it can create interesting material? Should it have an asterisk? Sort of like what they did to Roger Maris after he hit #61?

AI certainly helps you be more creative. Don’t use it to create your image or music. Use it where it enhances your work. I love using Photoshop’s new AI tools. Most of my photography is shot outdoors. My favorite sites to shoot are Coney Island, Brooklyn Botanic Garden, South Street Seaport, and a few scout camps.

Little Acorn Cabin at William H. Pouch Scout Camp

Photoshop has enhanced its tools that let me delete those annoying glares and spots from the sun. Yes, I used polarizing filters. But nothing can one hundred percent eliminate them when shooting. We have great tools on our cameras, and AI is another super tool to help. It does a few other cool things, such as removing distracting elements or fixing the colors better than it previously did. It is easier to fix someone’s shaving cut and make their face look better in the image with their children at special moments.

Sure, it can play around with clothing. I know someone who wanted to take a uniform someone wore in an image from the 30s and update it to today’s look. I said no; that’s where we should keep things the way they were.

Bottom line: when used properly, AI can do wonders. It is frustrating to see sun spots in my skies, rivers, and fields when filters could not block them all out. That is where AI is especially helpful. It can help you be more creative. Use those ideas as a starting point, not as a substitute for your own vision.

Nostalgia

How Music is the Driving Force

Over the last few weeks, I saw performances by Paul Simon at Forest Hills Tennis, Bon Jovi at the Garden and Joe Jackson at the Beacon. Future shows include Squeeze at Radio City Music Hall, David Byrne at Forest Hills Tennis, Sting at Brooklyn Paramount and Belinda Carlisle at Palladium Times Square. I hope to see more. I do have a few Yankees-Red Sox games on tap.

All brought back memories. Or, as my mom said, nostalgia. Bon Jovi’s on-stage commentary put it best. He said, let’s party like it’s 1999. We all know Prince, whom, sadly, I never saw did that. Bon Jovi said Let’s go back to 1986. He references when his hair was a little fuller and his jeans were tighter. He continued, saying that all of you listening to me now were much younger back in the day. Probably all in high school and now we’re older.

As I listened to him, I was blasted back to my high school job at the Greenridge Plaza McDonald’s and when we closed the store. We all brought cassettes to put into the boombox to blast while we cleaned up. Remember cassettes and boomboxes? We had one of our managers, Uncle Dave, or Disco Dave, with his choices. Others had their choices. We used to fight over what we’d listen to. We heard a wild mix of Bon Jovi, the Cure, David Bowie, Cinderella, Depeche Mode, Genesis, Guns & Roses, Love & Rockets, Madonna, Mötley Crüe, Poison, U2, Van Halen and Wham. I liked most of it. Couldn’t stand and still can’t Cinderella, Mötley Crüe, Poison and Van Halen. Plenty of other acts made our playlists. They were either on mixed tapes, or albums that we pulled in and out of the boombox. We did not have the luxury of Apple Music.

Hearing Bon Jovi pushed me back to those days. I had visions of us in our uniforms scrubbing the grills, sweeping and mopping the floors. It made me think of the times we hung out in the parking lot after we closed. In our cars, we played what we wanted. In front of the stores, some of us had beer. Not me. I did nothing. That’s usually the case.

As for Paul Simon, I wasn’t around for Simon & Garfunkel’s heyday. I did see their reunion tour in the 2000s. I have seen Simon solo a few times and saw Art Garfunkel once at the original City Winery on Varick Street. As Simon played songs from the “Graceland” album, it reminded me of being driven to Scout trips, particularly our winter ski trip—my first- and only-time skiing. I did not do well.

It also reminded me of when I played music all night and kept my sister up in the next room. I made mixes. Most of the new wave and goth bands. But had to include the classic rock tunes. Elton John, Billy Joel, and the Beatles made the cut. Billy Joel was my first concert. I called in sick when I was supposed to close McDonald’s. I got to the former Brendan Byrne Arena with my family. Seated a few rows behind me were several of my coworkers. No one said a word about my illness.

I constantly listen to the Cure. Many times, I flash back to what was perhaps my first date, seeing them with the Pixies and Love & Rockets. We were too young to buy beer. Not that would have as I was driving. We had M&M’s at Giants Stadium.

All of the other bands mentioned do something similar. People who knew me in college often say they remember my Cure and Depeche Mode posters hanging on my dorm room wall. Sid Vicious hung on my room’s wall at home.

Good music, particularly the best generation of music ever, the 80s, is the driving force of keeping things going.

The Meeting

Anat invited Marc and Alana over for Sunday brunch. All of the kids were playing nicely in Alana’s home office. There was lots of great food – shawarma, salmon, eggplant and wine and beer.

Dan was there, too. They decided they needed to end, once and for all, the craziness involving Jay and Christy A. Marc was still pleased with her actions at Lincoln Center. But knew that was a solo homer, and she needed to be stopped.

They were tired of their days being ruined every time they went somewhere. Their kids, although powerful, didn’t need to learn to fight at such a young age. They were just happy they were playing together and getting along. Everyone knew Sarah and David Benjamin would likely be the most powerful. Both of their parents had superpowers. Their blood was loaded with strength. They could be as strong as Anakin. Maybe stronger.

Dan had no powers. But he had his law enforcement training and had the tactical skills. That’s why he was there. He added a lot to their discussion. They decided to split up and stake out two enemies. They know that, despite their distant relations, they hated each other. They knew that from their recent battle.

The heroes hoped they would fight each other to determine who would rule. They wanted to lure them into a fight. They figured the two of them would go on and on. Alana, Anat and Marc hoped that while the two were weakening each other, the three of them would attack with all of their forces. They didn’t think they’d be able to handle that. The three of them plotted how to get them to fight.

Headphones at Coney Island and Elsewhere

I hate headphones. I remember when the Sony Walkman was introduced, and everyone got one. My dad took me to the now-shuttered Tops Appliance City in Edison, NJ, and I got one from a competitor. I worked fine. My friends and I would sit in our bedrooms every Sunday night and listen to Dick Clark’s Top 100 and other music countdowns on our Walkmans. We would report our thoughts and predictions to each other over our Radio Shack walkie-talkies.

I could not stand having the music blaring directly into my ears. I took the headphones and put them slightly above or below my ears. Usually below. I could hear “Eye of the Tiger,” “Don’t You Want Me” and “Beat It” just fine. I have never outgrown this habit.

During the countless Zooms we sit through, I do the same if I am in the office. If I am remote, I use the speakers on my MacBook. For the record, I have had several iPhones. I have never once used the AirPods. I am thankful people use them. Keeps things slightly more pleasant on our subways. Much better than when people blast their music on their mobile devices for all of us to hear. Hint: we do not want to hear it.

A few days ago, I did the “Meet the Sharks” tour at the NY Aquarium, Coney Island. Chance our tour guide handed out headphones. He mentioned that if you stay close to me, you might not need them. But several camp groups are visiting, and it can get loud. Plus, there are fans, and we are going into some areas with louder equipment. I did my best to stay close. But everything he mentioned made me put on the headphones. I had to place the headband over my NY Yankees hat and push the speakers just below my ears. All was well. I heard it all and learned a lot. Toward the end of the tour, we handed them back and walked into the touch tank. I got to pet several cat chain sharks.

I have always been fearful that they have not been disinfected. Sometimes they give headsets in plastic bags that you tear open and attach to the device. Usually, you can keep or trash those when you’re done.

I have taken many tours with the Tenement Museum, New York, NY. It has walking and indoor apartment tours. They give out headsets. I never use them on the indoor tours. The educator usually speaks loudly enough. As for the walking tours, I stay close. Occasionally, I have had to wear them my way. I am outside in NYC. It is loud.

Bottom line, headphones have a purpose. But between the sound directly penetrating your ears and my worries about whether someone has worn them before me, I will do my best to use them only as needed and in my way.

A Quiet Day. Not

It was a pleasant sunny day. Thankfully, the heat wave ended. People were back outside and enjoying the beach and parks. David Benjamin and Sarah were in their joint stroller being pushed by Marc. Alana was humming music from the Bauhaus, the Cure, Depeche Mode, and, for kicks, she tossed in some Bon Jovi. She and Marc saw him the night before at the Garden. Sometimes they needed good, fun rock. It is not as deep as the goth and new wave scene. But has its needs.

All was going well. The kids were enjoying themselves in Prospect Park. They had spent a few minutes at Grand Army Plaza and walked over. Alana and Marc are not the biggest fans of zoos, but they planned to take the kids to park’s zoo. One day, they’d take them to an African safari. But at this point, they knew their younglings would enjoy the sea lions, some wild felines (Alana and Marc are allergic to and hate cats), and maybe even try feeding some of the animals. They are still a little young to understand everything. But we are quickly getting there.

They walked down Flatbush Avenue in the direction of the zoo. They gazed at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden across the street. They wanted peace. They sipped their water and made sure the two kids had their milk in their NY Yankees thermos. They were both wearing Yankee t-shirts, shorts, and hats.

They saw the usual crowds on Flatbush – The Homeless, the mentally ill, other families, the street performers and salespersons, and the ice cream trucks. Alana’s phone buzzed. She had no desire to answer it. But it was the blasting of the emergency ringtone by Siouxsie Sioux.

Alana’s eyes lit up. Marc’s phone was on vibrate, and it was vibrating. There was an attack in New Springville near the Staten Island Mall. Glass was flying everywhere. The NYPD was trying to defuse the situation. Dan’s emergency response team was on the scene.

Anat jumped into her Porsche and was making great time on the FDR Drive to the heliport near the South Street Seaport. Dan alerted the police that his wife would be able to negotiate. Although Anat worked in investment banking her negotiation skills were well known in NYC. Dan often had her counsel his staff.

She exited her car and headed into a chopper, and in about five minutes, she was at the mall. Glass almost hit the chopper. Dan knew Anat was not going to use her powers on demand. She and the others kept their secrecy. It has been getting harder. But they’ve been getting smarter.

Jay was in rare form. The officers fired at him. But his glass deflected all the bullets. Alana and Marc were entering the zoo and deciding what to do. They knew they couldn’t get to Staten Island in the manner that Alana did. However, they thought they could be useful. Anat went without Gili and Jerry. So, there’d be no jelly, latkes and olives flying. Dan was getting worried. The NYPD was making some strides but needed something extra.

He looked at his wife. She smiled. She got onto the microphone and asked Jay to stop. More glass flew. Anat said she had to use the ladies’ room. She made that up.

She walked towards Richmond Hill Road and used her senses to sniff out Jay. She fired prunes and apricots at the glass. She knocked most of it down. One piece came awfully close to her. She ducked just at the right moment. She heard Jay’s gravelly voice. She was able to fire in that direction. She stunned him when a raisin hit him between the eyes. He thought he was in total control, and his enemies weren’t gonna get to his location. Wrong he was. Anat fired several more times. Jay fell to the ground. The NYPD closed in. Anat walked away.

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.