family – Mitchell's thoughts, photos, etc.

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 AI Really Know About You?

How Accurate Is It?

By Mitchell Slepian

I read on a social media platform to do a deep AI search of yourself. You should see what people find about you when they search for you. It’s a good idea.

These days, organizations do that as a pre-employment check, potential dating partners check you out and organizations do it to see if you’re okay to volunteer with them. This is only the top of the list.

Maybe you read my May 15 post, “Is AI Really That Smart?” I discuss its accuracy and your need to verify. AI is a great tool, and it is forging ahead. We are in the midst of a revolution. We are also at a learning stage.

The other day, I took the advice from my reading and did an AI search on myself. I used Google. I have found that it and X’s Grok offer the easiest and quickest searches. Was what I found about me accurate? Yes and no. Was it concerning? Not really. Was it funny? A little. Was it slightly misleading? Yes.

Let’s jump into it. It quickly found my employment records. All it did was search LinkedIn. It was fairly accurate. It didn’t pull up the timing I had for certain roles. But it was not terribly off. My LinkedIn profile is accurate as the platform allows. That’s the simple stuff.

I asked it about my interests. It quickly pulled up my loves: the Yankees, summer camp, and theater, particularly at Lincoln Center. I am in love with the fountain. I’d love to jump into it. That’d be way cooler than jumping into the one at Washington Square Park. I have been in that one when there was no water in it. I’d have no problem jumping it when the water was in it. People do it every day. Lincoln Center’s fountain is too classy. Maybe they can do a fundraiser and let people pay to jump in. I’d donate and jump.

I asked it some questions. It said I was an avid Knicks fan, and I do not follow the NFL. I only follow MLB. I am not a Knicks fan. Sure, I am rooting for them in the championship. I have never watched a basketball game in my life. I was once offered tickets in the area Spike Lee sits. I turned them down because I was attending a more exciting (at least in my mind) event at the Plaza Hotel. Google told me to I check the scores of their games. During the final game of the playoff round, I checked once while I was watching the Bronx Bombers. As a New Yorker, I felt the need to know. I was glad they won. Does this constitute me being a hardcore fan? No way.

I asked it about my family. It noted that my father passed away. It mentioned my mom was an RN. It said, “I am very close to my sister, and we travel regularly to Long Island for photo shoots.” I do a lot of photo shoots. My photography is mostly shot at Coney Island, Scout camps, my European vacations, and the East and Hudson Rivers. My first one on Long Island will be next week at Baiting Hollow Scout Camp. My sister will not be there. She has never been to any of my photo shoots. Oh, the ones I allegedly do on the Island are shots of the stars. I tried that once in Forest Hills. One day, I will try again. It also said someone who is not my sister is.

I asked it what music I like. It said the top of my lists are Sir Elton, Billy Joel, and it claimed I don’t like the Beatles. I love the Fab Four. It expanded to list my new-wave and punk loves – The Clash, The Cure, Depeche Mode, Echo and the Bunnymen, and others. It left out my favorite band, U2. Was it right or wrong about music? I am not sure. Google pulled stuff from my blogs. In some of them, I mentioned what I listen to while I am writing or editing photography. All of these bands are in there. For the record, I am listening to goth right now. So, I guess AI was making educated guesses.

Rock Lake in Kunatah, Ten Mile River Scout Camps

It noted “Rent” is my favorite show. Hands down, it is. It pulled up my volunteer work and my role as chairman of the Ten Mile River Scout Museum. It mentioned my other volunteer work and attendance at religious services. It might have made me too religious. It is what it is.

It chronicled my Scouting America history. It noted that I was the chief of the former Aquehongian Lodge #112 and that I am an Eagle Scout. It got a few other things right and some things wrong. Funny thing is, I searched on the same terms two days in a row. One day it said this. The next day, it said that. It also pulled my fiction blogs and looped what my characters are doing as me. Most of the characters are based on me. That has never been mentioned. So maybe AI figured that out.

Bottom line, AI is getting there. Is it 100 percent accurate? Will it ever be? Probably not. But will it be really close? No doubt about it. Should you use it as your final check to judge a future hire or date? No. Should you still verify and check other sources? Absolutely.

A Trip to the Bronx Zoo

Jen decided to take Benjamin and Jerry to the Bronx Zoo. The real one. Not the Stadium. One day, they will get there. Despite Anat’s sick loyalty to the Red Sox, Jerry decided he loves the Yankees. He only wished he were old enough to have seen the Core Four. Oh well.

Everything was great. Jen had stuff under control. Ben and Jerry were becoming good friends. Benjamin was a grounded kid and not as goofy as Mom. But he had his moments. He was dancing with the lowland gorilla. He only wished he really were with him, and that the gorilla was not in a cage. But he watched it and danced along. Jerry liked the serpents and tigers. Jen was all smiles and bought the kids ice cream. That turned into a mistake when it wound up all over them. But they are kids and were having fun.

They were meandering over to see the giraffes. That is one of Marc’s favorite animals. As they passed the elephants, Jen got hit in the head with a moldy piece of bread. She was knocked to the ground. Benjamin ran over to his mom. She was scraped up and slightly bleeding. More bread was flying their way. It missed.

Jerry saw Christy launching her bread near the elephants. She was hanging off a tree like a monkey. Jerry needed to test his aim. He usually shoots his olives at a more direct target. He’s never shot at someone swinging off a tree branch.

Meanwhile, Benjamin got napkins and was wiping his mom’s face. She got up and kissed him. Jen was shaken. But okay. Jerry launched his first round of olives. A few missed. But one hit Christy on the arm, causing her to fall into the water that the elephants were drinking. She panicked. One of the elephant’s trunks was slapping water around to cool down and to communicate with his fellow elephants. Christy was getting soaked. She tried to stand up and get to the fence. She tripped and wound up back in the water. She was getting quite dirty.

Jerry waltzed over to Jen and Benjamin. He was all smiles when he was Jen was ok. They carried on and went to see more monkeys.

When a Tour Group Becomes a Family

By Mitchell Slepian

About a month ago, I came back from a tour of Sicily. I was there for about two weeks. I did start my tour solo, as I arrived a few days before the tour officially kicked off. I saw a lot before I met my new “family.”

I went to the conference room in my Palermo hotel, and we walked over to a nice restaurant. I sat with some people that I wound up eating with several more times. I was solo. There was one other solo traveler. I was the tour photographer. I wasn’t hired for it. It’s just that I was one of only two out of 45 people shooting with a traditional camera v. a mobile device. I was using a Nikon Mirrorless 7.

Sicily is beautiful, I became friends with nearly everyone. Of course, the people originally from Brooklyn and the Bronx were the best. Most people recognized I was from Brooklyn as soon as I started talking. That makes me proud. No other place has the Cyclone, the original Nathan’s, the Brooklyn Museum, and fantastic pizza. Sicily’s pizza is better. Way better. For the record, so is Milan’s.

Everyone on the tour was excellent. Yeah, we had some people that I thought were children of the corn. But we all got along and had a great time. We had a WhatsApp group during the tour run by our guide. She was the only one allowed to post.

Most people wanted to see each other’s photos. Someone made a WhatsApp group for us to use once we got home and went through our shots. It took me a few days to edit with Photoshop. But I posted as I edited. For the next few weeks, we swapped our photos and memories. We all commented. I am happy to say people loved my images. We are in a new year and still chatting.

I look forward to my next tour. I hope I can make a new family.

The Babies are Named

Eight days later, Alana and Marc left camp and went home. Before they left, Alana nursed her beauties. Marc sat with the Woodsman and listened. On the eighth day, the herd of buffalo approached the babies and blessed them.

Marc got behind the wheel. Alana carefully placed the babies into her Infiniti. Alana put Depeche Mode onto the sound system and signaled it was time to go. They drove straight to the temple. Their parents were waiting. Yes, these two have parents. They are very strange. Anat, Jen, and all of the others were waiting with big smiles and gifts.

The mohel was ready to perform the circumcision on the boy. He stared at the knife. The girl was beside him. She, too, stared at the knife. The mohel gave him some Shiloh wine. Anat knew the owner of the vineyard. She had him make a remarkable vintage. Marc and Alana gave out a bottle to all attendees. The girl snagged some of it. Was this a sign she would be like her mom? As the mohel cut the foreskin, the boy just smiled. His eyes fluttered. They wanted to name him Palpatine. But settled for David Benjamin. He has this funny look in his eyes. Of course, Marc and Alana were waiting to see what he would do. Would he shoot lightning out of them, like Palpatine? The two were quite worried about how powerful their children would be. To the best of their knowledge, they are the only two born to parents who both have powers. The girl was named Sarah. They were thinking of Leia or Ashoka. Or maybe just Tano. They would probably call their kids the Star Wars nicknames. Sarah and David Benjamin seemed happy. They were dressed in cute, all-black baby clothes from Sisley.

They went to the basement of the shul for bagels and lox. Jerry was bouncing around. He was making sure Gillil was ok. A great big brother he is. Suddenly, they heard some loud noises outside.

Jay was bashing cars outside the temple. Anat immediately pelted him with raisins and dates. She was taking care of business. But Jay snuck away and entered the delivery door by the kitchen and started shooting glass. A piece shot off Sarah and Benjamin David. Marc and Alana ran over to their babies. They looked like they were smirking. They were in their strollers. The two kids looked at each other.

Suddenly, the strollers started moving. Marc and Alana got nervous. They knew the kids were ok. They knew some of their friends were waiting for this moment. They wanted it to be delayed. They certainly didn’t want their parents and other relatives to see what would happen next.

My Wallet

Is it an Apple, a Coach, or a Jox Sox?

By Mitchell Slepian

These days, many people no longer use traditional leather wallets. You may remember them. They had a billfold and pockets for your license, credit cards, and a picture of your kid or dog. According to a report by Amazon Web Services and PYMNTs in February 2024, 79 percent of Gen Z use digital wallets. Baby boomers and seniors account for 26 percent of the digital wallet users.

Let’s reminisce about the various types of wallets available. They still exist. Let’s start with my first wallet. It was a white Jox Sox. I got the socks from my grandmother. She was and might still be the queen of socks. But they had to be Jox Sox from Thom McAn, a shoe retailer. Sadly, it shuttered its 100-plus stores in 1986. You can still get Jox Sox from Amazon. I have a pair.

In the ’70s, most of us kids kept a dollar or two in our socks. We put coins in them, too. Sometimes, that causes cuts on the soles of our feet or toes. I can remember a quarter or two floating around my sock. The change could tear through our foot protection. My favorite memory was from when I attended the Manhattan Beach Jewish Center Day Camp. The camp would take us on a field trip to L&B Spumoni Gardens to get spumoni. That’s where I developed my love of this precious treat. Our counselors told us to wait for them to get us our spumoni and not to get anything else. We were about 10 years old.

Did we listen? We pulled a dollar out of our sock and got on the line for a Sicilian slice. Back then, a pizza slice cost around 50 or 75 cents. We knew they had the best pizza. They still do. I was last there on Memorial Day. I pulled my money out of my Timberlands wallet. It now costs $9.75 for two slices and a bottle of water.

Please note that the camp is kosher. Why did they take us to L&B? Who knows? They would pack kosher meals for us when we went to the now-closed Action Park (it reopened under another name), the beach, and on overnight trips to Cooperstown. Once, they took us to Yankee Stadium. We snuck over to the concession stands. The counselors told us they had to taste our hot dogs to see if they were kosher. So, we cut a piece off. Yeah, we and some of our trusted counselors ate all sorts of “kosher” crap from the stands in the amusement parks. And wherever else went.

In the 1980s, I attended summer camp, which was the best time of my life. Before I went, my dad handed me an old brown wallet of his. He said I should have one and carry a few dollars in it to buy stuff at the trading post. I took it. I obtained the singles from Larry, who served as our banker and purchased candy from the trading post or a hamburger meal in Bob (Slob, as we called it) Landers.

I carried that wallet with me when I needed to. For the most part, through junior and high school, I kept a dollar or two in my pocket or sock. I arrived at college and needed to carry a little more money. Not much. So, I had the wallet. My girlfriend didn’t like it, as it was worn. She bought me a new one for my birthday. It was nice. I used it. When she dumped me, I went back to the trusty old wallet. Eventually, as I got older, I bought a few. I had a nice Coach wallet from Bloomingdale’s, and I received another one for my birthday from the people at a volunteer group I worked with. They just bought it for me. They had no idea if I was using a worn one or my sock. We had a meeting around my birthday. We had pizza, and they handed me the new wallet.

For the most part, now my iPhone is my wallet. I tap it at the subway turnstile. Yeah, I ditched the MetroCard, too. Eventually, New York City Transit will eliminate them. I tap and pay at the Stadium, Key Food, and most restaurants.

Ultimately, my favorite wallet will always be a sock. Preferably, a Jox.

The Naming

It was a warm Thursday morning. Anat debated about doing the naming at shul or in her apartment. She was not a fan of rabbis. Marc could not stand them. Anat could have easily gotten a nice Sephardi stand-up Torah in her apartment. But she thought of her grandmother, who was devoted to her volunteer work at her shul. So, she decided the naming would be there, and the party would be in her penthouse.

A decent-sized crowd headed into her shul. She was a member and donor. She just disliked going. The phoniness of many of the congregants made her nauseous. Dan got up the amud and davened shacharit. Marc took out the Torah. Dan was not super religious. But he knew the ropes. Dan and his beloved are both Kohanim. He read the Cohen aliyah. They called up Tzipora’s husband, Elan, a Levi, for the next reading. He knew it all. Jake did shlishi. With tears, Dan held up his little jelly and latke-shooting baby. The rabbi read the prayers, and his little bundle of joy was named, Gillil. Anat was in tears. She picked the name after her grandmother. She wished she was here to see her baby at her happiest time.

They exited the shul and went to her place for a delicious or, as some would say, lish feast of bagels, bialys, cream cheese, lox, sable, white fish, cookies, and cake. The Arak was flowing. Everyone gathered around Gilli. People were snapping images. The professional photographer was an old friend of Marc’s. He was so happy it was a dairy party, he offered his services at no cost. Gillil was calm. She has not had any incidents with her powers since her birthday. But Anat and Dan knew Gillil would be a handful. Marc and Alana were briefed on what she could do. They smiled and just waited.

Anat Gives Birth

Anat’s water broke. Dan was by her side. They were both nervous. Anat knew she could handle this. She did not understand how her powers would interact with the birthing process. She had no clue if it would be harder or easier. She went to the hospital. Funny, she remembers how she attacked Jen when she was giving birth to Ben. Anat was so upset that the girl who teased her in camp was married and having a kid.

Anat texted Marc and Alana to tell them what was going on. The two rushed to the hospital. She texted Jen, who raced to pick up and babysit Jerry.

With Dan by her side, Anat gave birth to a girl. Anat held her and started to cry. Dan was happier than ever. They would do the naming soon, and Anat sent images to all her friends. She asked them not to post on social media. She hated it. She held the little kid with all of her heart. She looked into the baby’s eyes. She spoke to her. She was so happy. But she had to figure out what powers this infant possessed. She knows what it’s like with Jerry and his abilities. She wondered if her new child would be more powerful. The doctor gave the baby a clean bill of health and said they could go home in a little while. Anat had a black baby basket and outfit ready. Dan hoped he could paint his daughter’s room pink and was worried the first music she’d hear would be the Cure or Bauhaus. Ultimately, he didn’t care. Dan was so happy to have a baby with Anat and knew what a great mother she already was. He had to work on the party after the naming.

The family left the hospital and headed home to show Jerry his sisters. Jay was lingering around outside and started throwing glass. Dan pulled his gun out and wanted to apprehend him. Suddenly, he saw his newborn shake in her basket. She was spinning; out of the basket came potato pancakes and jelly. The kid was shooting them out of her eyes. Jay was nailed in the head and fell to the ground. The baby raised her tiny arm and opened her hands. Lentils and rice flew out of her little hands. Jay ran. Dan knew he had his hands full.