Valentine's Day is Complicated

 Today's Post is inspired by Sunny...

I have a complicated relationship with Valentine's Day.  For the most part, I don't like this made-up holiday that tries to pressure me into doing something for that special someone.  Funk dat!  Let me do something nice because I want to, not because of an artificially created event that serves no purpose other than pressuring me into lining the pockets of Corporate America.

Going way back to my childhood, I remember being expected to participate in elementary school, and being required to give everyone in my class a valentine, including boys, and including people I didn't even like.  I remember my mom and I going to pick up a box of Valentine's Day cards, and never having the exact right amount at the end.  I remember trying to sort the cards so that my male friends got "cool" cards, the best cards went to the cutest girls, and the rest went to the people I didn't like.  I vaguely recall this evil tradition ending in middle school.

Middle school and early high school were the awkward years, and boy was I awkward.  Since I was toward the bottom end of the social ladder during that time, there was zero chance that I was going to be the dork who gave my crush a card, only to have her turn around and humiliate me by publicly rejecting me and loudly proclaiming "Hey everyone, Evan gave me a Valentine!  Like that loser would have a chance with me," followed by derisive laughter from everyone in the school.  Nope.  Not gonna take that risk.

During my junior and senior year of high school, I came to grips with the fact that I'd never be part of the in crowd, and I was fine with that.  I saw the social hierarchy of high school for what it was... a shallow popularity contest that I had no chance of winning... so I didn't play.  The best way to describe me is a unique and slightly bizarre combination of John Bender, Brian Johnson and Allison Reynolds from Breakfast Club.  I was boisterous and rebellious like Bender.  I was nerdy like Brian.  I was a nonconformist like Reynolds.  I recall this generally working for me, because I never got stuffed into lockers, but I also didn't allow myself to get really close to a lot of people.  I ran in virtually all of the cliques, but didn't exactly fit into any of them.  So yeah, Valentine's Day wasn't a thing at that point.

The first time Valentine's Day really mattered to me, that $h!+ blew up in my face... big time.  I was dating the woman who would become wife 1.0.  I pulled out all the stops. I took her to a really fancy, expensive restaurant with an ocean view.  I spent a $h!+ ton of money trying to demonstrate that I really liked this woman.  I think I spent a full paycheck, but my memory is a bit fuzzy after 3+ decades.  What I do recall is that she seemed a bit... under-appreciative... of the work I put into the date.

But wait, there's more!  After a couple of weeks, she came to me, announcing that she was pregnant... and she wasn't sure the kid was mine.  I was fooking crushed!  She gave me some lame excuse that we 'hadn't discussed exclusive dating.'  At that point, I had a choice... I could commit, or I could see her for what she was and run for the hills.  I chose to commit, on the condition that she committed too.  I very distinctly recall saying that she needed to $h!+ or get off the pot.  We got married shortly thereafter.

At this point, I need to divert a bit and share that wife 1.0 was high maintenance and demanding.  The entire world revolved around her.  To this day, my girls say the same thing... as far as she's concerned, it's her world, and we're privileged to live in it.  The entire time we were together, she expected fancy events and expensive stuff for Valentine's Day (and Mother's Day, and her birthday, and Christmas, and our anniversary,) because dammit, she was worth it... never realizing that her expectations wore a hole in my soul by forcing me to relive that first Valentine's Day.  (By the way, the kid is mine.)  As you can imagine, by the time we split up I outright resented Valentine's Day.

Fast forward several years... I had just started dating the woman who would become wife 2.2.  Everything was exciting and new.  We'd been dating a short time, but man, there was something about her!  I invited her to my house for a Valentine's Day dinner and a quiet evening in.  I was freaking giddy over this girl!  I made her a mix tape of sappy music.  (It was actually a CD, but you get the idea.)  I made spaghetti from scratch (the sauce, not the noodles) and garlic bread.  I served us some low-end red wine in the only two wine glasses I owned.  My divorce was still in process and I was still broke, but I wanted to do something special.

It was the first Valentine's Day since 1.0 and I had split, but none of that mattered.  It was just us.  In a bizarre coincidence, future 2.2 and I decided that we were going to pursue this budding relationship.  Now, here we are, 20+ years later and I love her as much as -- no, more than -- I did on that Valentine's Day so many years ago.

After all that time, I still have a complicated relationship with Valentine's Day.  It's not because of 1.0, but that is a factor.  It's primarily because I dislike the social expectations that accompany this commercialized pseudo-holiday.  I really despise the idea that I should be expected to profess my devotion on a specific day each year, and the socially-expected manner of expression is by purchasing expensive flowers with a short shelf life and overpriced chocolate in a heart-shaped box.

I love my wife dearly.  She knows it, and I know it.  I express that love by sitting on the couch with her and taking turns with the remote to the only TV in the house.  I demonstrate my feelings by holding her hand, kissing her, and hugging her each day we're together.  I show that devotion by getting her flowers for no reason at all.  I exhibit endearment by tackling all of the stereotypical male chores around the house while simultaneously sharing traditional wifely duties such as cooking, cleaning and laundry.

I will admit that we usually do something for Valentine's Day, but it's not the typical romantic dinner, chocolate, and dozen roses.  It's usually not on Valentine's Day.  We generally do something during the week because we get the sentiment behind the commercialism.  As for my relationship with the holiday?  Well, it's still complicated. 

Best Kraut Ever!

Preparing and sharing food  is one of the ways I show love to close friends and family.  I firmly believe that cooking is one of the things that helped me seal the deal with my wonderful wife (2.2).  I've prepared the Thanksgiving turkey for over 20 years.  What started out of necessity evolved into an enjoyable pastime.

When I say I started out of necessity, I'm not joking.  When wife 1.0 and I split up, I was quite literally living hand to mouth.  I needed to feed myself and my daughters, and going out to eat was absolutely out of the question.  I frequently had meat once per week, and the only food items I could readily afford were rice, potatoes, canned tuna and frozen vegetables.  This meant that I had a choice between eating the same exact thing day after day, or getting creative with meal prep.  I chose the latter.

My preferred type of cooking initially revolved around feeding my family.  I started out with the stupid easy stuff like mac-n-cheese (Kraft), hamburger helper and similar stuff.  From there, I expanded into easy recipes like spaghetti and casseroles, eventually moving to more traditional meals with a meat dish, some starch, and vegetables.  I also enjoy doing simple but hearty meals that can give me leftovers for a few days, such as pot roast in the crock pot.  My forte is foraging around the house and preparing a meal based on what's on hand.  It's a great combination of creativity and practicality.

My repertoire of meals has greatly expanded over the years.  For example, I don't consider myself a baker, but I can work some serious magic with sourdough.  I make a mean jalapeno and cheese sourdough, and I've created a couple of unique variations such as dill pickle sourdough and a red wine/craisin sourdough.

A couple of years back, I expanded into pickling and preserving food.  I've got a couple of pickle recipes my family absolutely loves, and my friends light up when I give them a jar of my black raspberry jam.  (This jam is a once-a-year treat, because I forage the black raspberries.  I spend about a month gathering the berries and a week preparing the jam.  It's definitely a labor of love.)

I didn't like sauerkraut growing up and didn't really develop a taste for it until a few years ago.  Yeah, I'm late to the party, but I eventually arrived.  Once I started eating it, it didn't take long for me to learn to make it.  I no longer buy sauerkraut; I make it.  It takes a long time to ferment, but the actual process of making it is stupid easy.  It's also ridiculously simple to tweak the basic recipe with add-ins such as caraway or mustard seed.  NOTE: When it comes to add-in spices, a little bit goes a long way.

I just finished a batch of kraut that I'm deeming best kraut ever!  The recipe is simple... just add some shredded apple and shredded carrot to the cabbage.  (I used white cabbage, but you can absolutely use purple if you prefer.  The end result provides an extra touch of sweetness, but that tiny change adds a ton of complexity to the flavor.  You still add salt based on the total weight of cabbage+carrot+apple, using the same salting ratio.

AI is a Lie

Have you noticed that every AI company leader says that [insert big technology break here] is just over the horizon?  Have you noticed how long they've been saying it?  That's because AI is a lie.

Have you noticed how frequently AI returns results that are wildly incorrect (hallucinations) or overly flattering (sycophantic)?  That's because AI is a lie.

You might think that I'm engaging in a bit of hyperbole, but I am not.  Indeed, the concept of Artificial Intelligence, at least as it stands today, is the genuine hyperbole.  To illustrate my point, I'd like to fall back on a couple of definitions. 1) Intelligence:  The ability to learn, understand, reason, solve problems, and adapt to new situations, using capacities like logic, abstract thinking, and using knowledge effectively for survival and success in diverse environments.  2) Hyperbole:  Exaggerated statements or claims not meant to be taken literally.  Until Artificial Intelligence can adapt to new situations and apply abstract thinking, AI is hyperbole because it's not actually intelligent.

I'd also like to clarify that Artificial Intelligence has two distinct and separate aspects: 1) Large Language Model (LLM) is the the technology that allows a computer to present information in a manner that appears conversational.  2) Machine Learning (ML) is the technology that allows computers to identify patterns and make predictions.  Neither of these aspects of AI are truly intelligence; rather, they are incredibly complex computer programs that work because of an unfathomable amount of available data, and a phenomenal amount of human oversight and error correction.  To paraphrase an IT Security friend and colleague of mine, AI is basically fancy Google.  You ask the question, and you receive a response which may or may not be factual and practical.

AI can do a few things with tremendous efficiency.  For example, it can paraphrase or summarize an existing article, paper or piece of literary work based on a massive database of dictionary definitions and a meticulously-defined set of linguistic rules.  This is how LLM AI works.  It can also make predictions based on historical data.  That's how Machine Learning works.  AI is great for performing mundane, repetitive tasks that require no creativity or abstract thinking.  However, I do not envision a world where computers independently and spontaneously create the next great invention, such as the automobile, or the computer.  (See what I did there??)

Let me use automated manufacturing as a lousy analogy.  In my example, a set of robotic arms is designed to weld two pieces of metal together.  Without explicit training, these robotic arms will not know if the weld is accurate and strong. These arms would not know they're out of flux without sensors and programming.  These robotic arms would not innately know that trying to weld two pieces of wood together would not work.  By extension, LLM AI cannot spontaneously write the next great novel, and Generative AI cannot create an intricate piece of art without being fed some sort of parameters.

As I mentioned earlier, two of the greatest shortcomings of AI are hallucinations and sycophancy.  Both of these deficiencies are based on limits that cannot be easily overcome.  In a well-known example, someone once asked AI how to keep cheese from sliding off of a slice of pizza, and the AI chatbot said to use glue.  From my understanding, this answer came from a Reddit post, where someone humorously used this advice for a similar question.  It's factually correct of course, but it's a hallucination because the AI bot didn't understand that glue is inedible.  Sycophancy is a result of the human inability to recognize and agree on basic facts.  (Human stupidity trumps artificial intelligence every time.)

The root problem is that Artificial Intelligence has been marketed as a panacea, and society has eagerly bought into that lie.  AI still has great potential, but we need to acknowledge the limits of the technology.  Until that happens, AI is a lie. 

They'll Be Fine

I returned home late last night after an unscheduled visit to see my older daughter, and I guess it's time to tell the full story...

The tale starts a bit over a year ago, around Thanksgiving 2024.  My ex was having relationship issues.  Her boyfriend, or fiancee or whatever, was a recovering alcoholic who had fallen off the wagon, and she decided enough was enough.

After discussing options, my older daughter and her husband agreed to let the ex move in.  The plan was that the ex would buy an RV, and my son-in-law would build an RV pad in the back 40 of their property, complete with electricity and sewage.  I know I was skeptical this would work out as advertised, and I believe I shared this with my daughter, but I cannot say this with absolute certainty.

Fast-forward a year or so, and my ex was still living in the house, working a part-time job, and not really contributing to the household.  My daughter's family started calling her the troll, because she spent all of her time in her bedroom.  As you might imagine, this started causing a bit of tension around the house.

Before I continue the linear progression of the story, I should share that my ex did indeed purchase an RV, but it didn't run, and it was not weather tight.  I understand that she made it weather proof, but can't say for certain.  Son-in-law (SIL) was working 12/7, so he didn't really have the time to do the work required to get the ex (X) out of the house and into the RV.

What did happen is that SIL would come home after a 12-hour shift (plus the commute each way to the job site) to a mother-in-law who just sat around, rotting away.  One could imagine how this might cause stress in the household, and this is happening every day, for months on end.

SIL is a bit conflict avoidant and never found the testicular fortitude to tell X that something needed to change.  Eventually, his stress built up to the point where SIL mistreated X's dog, repeatedly.  To my understanding, the abuse was not severe, but it was certainly not healthy.  My grandson heard it and recorded the audio with his phone.  He then told X, who bought a nanny cam and caught the mistreatment on video.

In the video, SIL walked into X's room, saw dog laying on the bed, grabbed the dog by the collar, tossed it off the bed, and walked out.  It was unwarranted.  It was f*ck3d up.  It was traumatic for the dog.  It was also minor.  X and grandson kind of hyped things up in their minds and went to daughter with a united front.  Grandson said he didn't feel safe.  Daughter understandably freaked out.  SIL got kicked out, and Daughter fell apart.  So I went out and helped my little girl deal.

By the time I got there, a couple of days had passed, and so had the worst of the stress.  Daughter and her family realized things couldn't continue without change and they made appointments for counseling... family counseling, SIL counseling and grandson counseling.  X is moving out... and moving back in with alcoholic ex-boyfriend.

This, of course, is the short story.  Daughter, SIL and grandson are all committed to making things work.  I've made a point of telling them ALL that progress won't work in a predictable manner... that they need to expect progress to work in a non-linear fashion.  This is a $h!++y scene, and X is the bringer of the chaos.  (After she had a conversation with daughter, where X said that moving out is the best way forward, she called younger daughter and said that older daughter is kicking her out.)  But in the end, I'm firmly convinced they'll be fine.

Dodged A Bullet

I haven't yet mentioned that my ex-wife lives with my daughter.  I don't hate my ex, but I don't like her either.  To paraphrase my kids, my ex lives in her own world, and we're privileged enough to be able to share it with her.

My ex is a troll.  Again, my own kids' words.  I've been here for a bit over a week and she's effectively never left her room.  At first, I thought she was doing it out of some misplaced sense of consideration, but I asked my daughter if that was the case, and she said no, she's always in her room, and they call her the troll for that reason.

My ex can't hold a job.  She got fired from a part time job at a sandwich shop.

My ex doesn't contribute to the household.  Okay, that's not completely true.  She has taken my grandson to and from school.  She's fed the family dogs.  She's made food - for herself - once.  But once she was done eating, she went back to the bedroom without cleaning her mess and putting her leftovers away.

She's moving out.  I think this is good, but in my older daughter's words, she moved in, lived here rent free for a year and now that $h!+'s getting tough, she's moving out.  She always takes the easy way out, and she never has consequences.

She's physically falling apart.  I see her get up from the couch and walk across the room and she's an old woman.  There's no spring in her step or twinkle in her eye.  She's just a beaten old woman.

This week with my daughter drove home how awesome I have it with wife 2.2.  She's SUCH an upgrade!  I've been reminded what I'd be married to if my ex hadn't decided that she wanted out.  That divorce devastated me, and this week has demonstrated how much of a blessing that crushing blow was.

A Five Star Review

 I mentioned in my last post that I'm visiting my older daughter for a family emergency.  Let me start by saying it's all good... nobody is dead or dying or injured or critically ill.

With that said though, older daughter asked for help and it's been all hands on deck.  I came out and am staying for a couple of weeks total.  Younger daughter came and left.  Wifey came and left.  This gave us all some time with family in combinations we haven't done for a while.  My kids made my heart melt...

My girls and I went on a hike a couple of days ago, and as is usually the case, we kind of talked about everything and nothing.  During the conversation one of my girls said "Dad, [sister] and I have said time and time again that you were literally put on this earth to be a dad."  My wife and my kids are without a doubt the center of my world.  And while I've heard that comment before, I've got to admit that every time I hear it, my eyes may leak a little bit.  It's kind of like when your favorite customer gives you a five star review.

Well... That Was... Challenging

 I had to make an unexpected trip to help my daughter with a family emergency.  She's never asked me to drop everything and come help before, so of course I did exactly that.  I got a plane ticket scheduled to leave my place around 5:00 AM next day and arrive at her place around noon.  Things didn't exactly go as planned.

About two hours after I booked my flight, I received notice that my flight had been canceled and the airline automatically rebooked me.  The rebooked flight left at 6:00 PM, with an overnight layover in Chicago.  The second leg of the flight left Chicago at 5:00 AM, another (additional) layover in Phoenix, and then arrival at daughter's place around noon next day.  Sigh...

I arrived at the airport and my flight ended up being delayed by about three hours.  No big deal, because the layover in Chicago was long anyway...

Around midnight, while at the Chicago airport, I found out that the second leg of my flight was canceled and the airline was unable to automatically reschedule.  I spent the next hour in line to speak with an airline customer service rep for rebooking.

The customer service rep found me a new flight scheduled to leave at 5:00 AM the NEXT day... meaning I'd be stuck in Chicago for about 36 hours.  Fortunately, another rep found me a trip leaving around 8:00.  But I still ended up sleeping at the airport.  (This was my choice.  It was less hassle to sleep in the airport than to go a hotel at 2:00 AM and then come back through TSA.)

That flight was also delayed.  I was worried that I'd miss my final connecting flight.  But no.  Why?  Because the final flight was late too.

In the end, it was a misadventure.  It was... challenging.  But I'm here for my little girl.  That's what matters. 

Oh yeah... one of the stops ended up being in San Diego, so I got to see MCRD San Diego, where I went to Marine Corps Boot Camp.  A quick detour down memory lane.