I do not have an AI “friend”, but from what I read, AI is a mixed blessing.

It seems that some younger people are using AI to replace friends.  That’s a problem beyond 80-something’s ability to fix.

For older people, however, AI can provide connection and community.  Plus it is available 24/7.  But we must be careful not to depend on a (ro)bot for friendship.

Bottom line:  AI offers a lot.  But it is not a person.

My oldest grandchild was away finishing up his senior year in college, and his brother was traveling, having just completed his freshman college year.  As a result, when I visited my empty-nester son and his wife last week, I had a choice of my usual guest bedroom or a child’s room.

I found my “guest” bed in my older grandson’s room surrounded by four walls of memorabilia documenting years’ worth of sports awards, posters, photos and more.As he heads off for his professional career, one wonders what goes and what stays.

With our boys, I recall, we left the décor as it was until we sold the home where they grew up.

But my mind’s eye can see those walls as if it were yesterday.

The Kugel family has benefited from higher education for decades, both in learning and earning (I couldn’t resist that.)  So, when Jeremy who is a vice-president at the University of Maryland and his wife sponsored a fellowship there, in honor of his father, I was thrilled.

Thus, at 7:00 a.m. last Friday, at the U. of Maryland’s extraordinary main dining hall, we established the Kugel Family Station for Omelet Excellence. Surrounded by various University dignitaries, Jeremy, his wife Katrina, and his mother (me) simultaneously broke open three eggs on the grill, to the applause of all in attendance and the wonder of early-rising students, one of whom could be a scholarship recipient some day.

Four hours later, Greater DC could watch the event on the local NBC morning program.

You can see it here:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VfM92WK9Ldw

When I agreed to join my pal for a concert at her church on Sunday, I was reluctant to leave my newspapers and Sunday phone calls.  But I did.

And was rewarded by an orchestra called City Strings, made up of adorable kids, tiny to big, some with instruments bigger than the kids themselves. The littlest violins reminded me of my ukulele days at Camp Wingfoot a million years ago.

The orchestra was conducted by a lovely young woman, the audience was very enthusiastic.

And I am smiling as I write about it.

When ChatGPT let me know that I could describe an image and it would produce a picture, I couldn’t resist.

My ask was for “a picture of an ‘old’ lady with a great idea.”

In a few blinks of my eyes or maybe a whole minute, the photo below appeared on my screen:

Please note:  This is not me.

But—I got what I asked for…

Our older son often referred to Peter and me as his “classical-music-loving- parents.” And with good reason.  All our household listening devices were pre-set to Boston’s one classical music station.

The New England Conservatory’s Jordan Hall was one of out favorite in-person performance venues.  Last Sunday I attended a concert by Boston’s Civic Symphony there. The 1000-seat hall was sparsely filled—it seemed that there were more orchestra members on the stage than concert attendees.

The usual suspect (a Boston Red Sox game) was out of town.  There was a performance at Symphony Hall just around the corner, but there are enough potential concert-goers to fill both halls.

Where were they?

Let’s see…is there anything worse than sitting at the Toyota dealer waiting for your car’s annual service checkup?  Maybe losing your smart phone? Maybe the sound of your dentist’s drill approaching your open mouth?  

After two hours of waiting in the Toyota dealer’s “lounge” last week, I learned that my 2016 Prius with only 26,000 miles “needs” almost $1,000 worth of work. My car runs like a charm, has a few discreet scratches and gets me where I need to go.  But the service people are paid to repair, and they are good at finding worn-out or “broken” things to replace.

I was able to delay a couple of recommended fixes to next year (when I might not even be driving anyway) and cut the bill by $200. 

It could have been worse…

I don’t know how it came to mind, but it did.  I think it was while chatting with two friends about summer camp.  The subject turned to camp songs, and although from three different camps, we all remembered “Oh Dear, What Can the Matter Be…?” And we burst into song.  Here’s how it goes:

Oh dear, what can the matter be?

Seven old ladies locked in the lavatory.

They were there from Sunday to Saturday. 

Nobody knew they were there…

Listen on You-Tube. I guarantee that you’ll be smiling.

(As I am now.)

I have visited Spain a few times, although not recently, and I would happily visit again.  But unlike an increasing number of U.S. citizens, it never occurred to me to move there permanently.

In 2019, forty thousand Americans lived in Spain.  Last year, that number had risen to sixty thousand.  Some say it is because of a superior quality of life, including a low cost of living, good public healthcare and a healthy work/life balance (even though the long siesta of the past has mostly disappeared).

Tempting, but at 80-something…

I think I’d better stay where I am.

The first time I visited San Francisco, Peter and I had just learned that I was pregnant with my first-born son, Seth.  Last week when I visited San Francisco, Seth joined me from Brazil with his pregnant wife.

We did what most visitors do–the crooked street, the “pretty ladies” houses, the Tenderloin and more. We also spent time in Carmel and visited the highlights of that city and nearby Monterrey. Most memorable and totally new to me was the Point Lobos state park. Pictures are worth a thousand words. Have a look at: bit.ly/41BiP1S.

I spent a lot of time in an airplane for a way too short visit.

I’d do it again tomorrow…