December 2025. a musing

A Thought

“Well,” commented my daughter-in-law in an observational, not judgmental tone, “He certainly made a negative impression on you.”

Which made me realize that I had once again complained about the rude waiter we’d encountered not once but twice at “G” restaurant, declaring that it would be a long time before we went back there to dine.

I replied, “The first time I thought he might just be having a bad night, and so we went back, but we got him again and he was just as bad. As soon as we sat down, he announced that the kitchen was closing in twenty minutes (and I wanna get out of here) and then just kind of tossed the menus on the table in front of us and walked away. Served our entrees the same way too.”

Thinking about it and my reaction more, I realized that at most restaurants, including “G” on past visits with different servers, the wait staff was pleasant and friendly. But unless the waiter really stands out by providing exceptional service or has had to contend with some unforeseen problem with amazing grace and calm, I really don’t remember them once I’ve received the tab, added the tip, put away my charge card, and stood up to leave. Why do those who create a pleasant experience seem so anonymous to me but the ones who sour the experience are remembered so clearly and with such detail?

There was the audiologist at Costco who was such a grouch last year when I asked if I should have another audiogram since I was not getting much benefit from my hearing aids. “You just had one last year. You don’t need another.” (Period. so stop bothering me). And yet at every other interaction with the hearing aid center, the staff has always been so pleasant, smiling, and willing to help, and I don’t remember any of them except for the one from my most recent visit just three days ago. Why does bad service stick in my mind and why do I take good service for granted?

Shakespeare alluded to this fallacy in Mark Anthony’s funeral oration in Julius Caesar when he wrote, “The evil that men do lives after them, the good is oft interred with their bones.” To quote Shakespeare while musing about bad server interactions may be a bit pretentious. I mean we are considering a failure of service, not the murder of a legendary historical ruler.

That said, how can we and, why don’t we, recognize and reward good customer service more often? And by the way, what is good service?

To consider the second question first, good service probably means different things to different people. For me, it means that the service person sees, recognizes, and treats me as an individual, not just a faceless paying customer.

With respect to the first question, the usual way to reward a good dining experience is to leave a larger than customary tip. Although the server will be gratified by this, does he or she realize that you, are thanking them for their effort. That you’re not just a big spender out to impress the company that you’re with? The server probably would be left with a warm glow if, as they presented your bill, you specifically told them how much their service added to your enjoyment of the whole experience. The message being that you also see them as a person, more than just the anonymous server of salads and entrees. That you are aware of them and appreciate their efforts.

I guess to sum up before putting this ramble to bed, or interring it, we all would like to be seen and recognized as individuals. Expressing thanks and gratitude when we have a pleasant encounter with another person will leave both of us smiling. Just by performing a non-random act of kindness. .

November 2025 Story

Coach

The present—

“How the hell does Jake do that? He seems to know what defense we’re calling every time. Disguised corner blitz, and they send the tight end to the spot vacated. Drop back in deep coverage just before the snap and they break a big gain with a quick, short pass over the middle to the running back.”

“When we saw what they’ve been doing to the other teams they played, I wondered if they were hacking into the headsets, so I had the IT folks look into that. They said there’s no way they could do that. The system is secure. I don’t think they’re stealing our signals. But I agree, they sure do make a lot of changes right at the line of scrimmage.”

“Then Jake must be a effing mindreader. From seven and ten to leading the Conference in one year.”

A year and a half ago—

Jake Bowzer, the offensive coordinator for the NFL Madison Mudhens, was worried as he walked outside the empty practice facility to a meeting with the general manager, Tom Tussle and his head coach, Bob Buffo. Yeah, seven and ten isn’t great, and we missed the playoffs, but we did better than last year’s five and twelve. I hope the new owner doesn’t want immediate results. I thought me and Bob agreed that it would take a few years to get to where we wanted to be.

He climbed the stairs and opened Tom’s office door and was shocked to see the team’s new owner, Ziggy Smart also there. Oh, oh, Jake thought, must be something big for Smart to be here. Am I gonna get canned? His armpits started to sweat and his palms got wet.

Ziegfeld Smart—who got into artificial intelligence at the start, and was still THE major player in the field. His net worth was a closely guarded secret, for he was a very private person, but from what could be gleaned from records, he was a more than enormously wealthy person. Given his nature and presumed lack of interest in sports, it came as a great surprise when it was announced that the new owner of a mediocre NFL franchise, the Madison Mudhens, was he. It’s said that he was given his unusual first name as a take off on an old Broadway show, the Ziegfeld Follies, by his father because he was the unplanned last child in his family.

Jake wiped his right hand on his pants as he stepped into the room to shake hands with the three men present.

Tom said, “Jake, I don’t think you’ve met Mr. Smart, our owner, before.”

“I’m very pleased to meet you, Mr. Smart, sir,” Jake said. “You must be a very busy man, so it’s a surprise and an honor to find you here.” Oh God, is he going to lower the boom?

“If you’re worried about why I’m here, let me put your mind at ease. I thought you made satisfactory progress with the team from last year to this,” Smart replied.

Jake felt a huge sense of relief, thinking—satisfactory progress—he’s okay with this year’s results.

“But of course we can’t just be satisfied with satisfactory,” Smart continued.

“Oh I fully agree,”Jake said. “Right Bob?” Buffo nodded.

“And that’s why I asked you to come to this meeting,” Tom Tussle said. “As you must be aware, Mr. Smart is THE leader in the field of Artificial Intelligence. He’s shared his ideas with Bob and me and now wants you to be included.”

‘To be included,’ Jake thought. Man this must be really something big. And I’ll be in on it too.

“But whatever we talk about and decide, you can never repeat. Not to anyone. Not ever! If you don’t think you can agree to that, then it’s best that you leave now. Take a minute to think about it and decide,” Tom continued.

To not even know what I’m agreeing to and I have to decide blind? What if it’s a criminal act? But Bob agreed and he’s the most straight up guy I know. Really honest, ethical. So if he’s in on this——? “Bob, you know what this is all about and agreed?” asked Jake.

“Yes,” Buffo replied.

Jake took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m in.”

“You can call me Ziggy too,” Smart began.

“Thank you sir—I mean Ziggy,” Jake said. Call him Ziggy too? Wow.

“You know that analytics in all sports is routine now,” Smart began. “It started with baseball and as owners and coaches saw that it gave the team using it a leg up, everyone began to copy. Football was no exception. What were the odds of a favorable outcome in going for it on fourth down at what yardage, which stage of the game, given the opponent, and so on. Follow?”

Jake nodded.

Tussle interjected, “Excuse me Ziggy, but one last check before you go further. Jake, if you sense where this may be headed, one last chance to opt out if you’re worried.”

“No, I’m still okay.” Opt out? This gotta be big. But what? Analytics? And Smart is an AI guy.

Smart continued, “In your case, as the Mudhens offensive coordinator, what if you knew what the defense would do before you called a play, 94.7 percent of the time?”

“It’d be like mind reading their defensive coordinator,” Jake said. 94.7 percent!? Pretty specific figure. Wow! Got to see where this goes!

As if Smart were a mind reader himself, he said, “The 94.7 figure is not something pulled out of thin air. It is real. Three years ago, out of curiosity and boredom, I looked into the quality of the number crunching and analytics that NFL teams use, and discovered it was fairly basic. And I thought, I bet I can do better. I began by looking at all sixteen teams in the conference the Mudhens were in—it was just a coincidence that it was the Mudhens conference. I set up a program, I called it Lombardi, to put every game, every situation in each game, and the plays that each defensive coordinator dialed up, into computers, along with the characteristics and records of each of each team’s defensive players. “

Holy shit, thought Jake, ‘Lombardi’, he is the AI god. Is this covered in the rules?

Smart continued, “I decided to start with the defensive side. And over the course of a year’s worth of data, each defensive coordinator’s tendencies emerged based on the situation, the look of the offense, and the personnel involved. And if there were changes in staff or personnel, that too was fed into the program. I tested it with real time games the following year, and that’s how the 94.7% figure was derived. Follow, Jake?”

“Thank you, Mr. Smart,” Jake replied, “No, you explain it very clearly. But how-ah-do the rules cover this?”

“They don’t, and that’s the beauty,” Smart said. “Then when I learned that the Mudhens might be up for sale I saw a chance to test Lombardi in the real world. The Mudhens were, before you and Bob came on of course, the bottom feeders of their division, and so their price was not astronomical. And if things didn’t work out, I could put them up for sale again and not take a huge loss.”

So we’re nothing more than a test of concept to him, thought Jake. A rich guy’s plaything. It was a deflating moment. He said nothing and waited.

Buffo said, “Jake, I hired you as my offensive coordinator, because Tom and I were impressed with your work as quarterback’s coach with the Waco Warthogs even though you were young. You’ve more than justified our decision. Now you’ll have a great chance to do an even better job.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Jake replied. To be handed their playbook in each game. Not quite honest, but not covered by the rules. What if this gets out? And if we win, how much is from me and how much is due to Lombardi? “Yeah, I mean let’s do it! Is Chaz (the Mudhens’s defensive coordinator) in on this?”

“Not for now,” Tussle replied.

“So just the three of us,” Jake said. “And mum’s the word.”

“Yes,” said Smart.

“I’ve got a lot to think about and absorb. Thank you Mr. Smart—I mean Ziggy—for trusting me,” Jake said.

“And let’s get beyond ‘satisfactory’ this coming season,” Smart said.

“Absolutely!’ Jake said. With a little help from my friends or AI.

After Jake left, Tussle said, “He’s a good man, I’m glad he came on board. You won’t tell him about ‘Belichick’?

“No, but I’ll be comparing what plays Jake runs, with what my offensive program ‘Belichick’ suggests. As long as what he decides works well and we win, there’s no need to make him feel pressure or to worry him,” said Ziggy. “The players need to have a person they relate to calling the plays. And they like Jake. I don’t think they’re ready to have an AI as coach. But who knows—maybe someday.”

Yeah, Buffo thought, ‘someday’ AI on offense, AI on defense; so who’ll need any coaches at all and we’ll all be out of jobs.

October 2025 story

Arachne

The large circular web sparkled with dew drops in the morning sun, and Cindy felt a familiar shiver, the hairs on the nape of her neck prickling, as she eyed the large black and yellow spider waiting patiently in the center of the web, its eight legs held in pairs to form a X. Another one! She hurried back to her garden supplies on a bench under the wide roof overhang to get the insect spray.

She cautiously approached the web, spray can held before her like a sword, ready to deal death to the spider. As if it could sense her intent, the garden spider dropped quickly on a strand of silk into the bushes, out of sight and escaping. “Damn,” Cindy said aloud, “Got away!” She got a rake and tore down the web any way. Why don’t you things stay out of my garden, she thought.

That afternoon her friend and workmate Lucy visited. The day was warm and humid and they retired with ice tea and just baked peanut butter-walnut cookies to the backyard, sitting in the shade of the roof.

“Ugh, “ Cindy said with a shudder as she looked up and saw another large web spanning a gap between two rose bushes, black and yellow spider in the center of the web. “I’m going to get the bug spray.”

Lucy shook her head, “You really have a phobia Cindy. Spiders are good for the garden. They eat bugs that would lunch on your roses and vegetables. Biologic pest control. Better for your health too than using a lot of bug sprays.”

“I don’t care,” said Cindy. “I hate spiders. Always have.” She sprayed the spider and the web with a generous cloud of insecticide, then tore down the web and its dying weaver. “Got ya this time,” she said with satisfaction.

“Have you always felt this way about spiders?” Lucy asked.

“I think it all started when I was eight and I was hiking with my folks and I was in front and singing so happy and looked back at them and walked right into a spider web and it got all over my face and stuck in my hair. I can still feel the shock of that and how it felt. And they had the nerve to laugh as they pulled the web off me!”

“Poor Cindy,” said Lucy. “But you’re fifty-five now.”

“Well, some things never change. I remember that scene in “Lord of the Rings” where Frodo and Sam are trapped by Shelob, the monster spider? Oh God, I had to walk out of the movie! That was the worse!”

“Well,” Lucy said, taking a bite of her cookie, “Lucky for you no monster spider in your yard. Just helpful garden ones that you insist on poisoning.”

“I wish the hell they’d go somewhere else where they’d be appreciated. Like with you.”

“Sorry, live in a condo. No garden.”

“Well they sure seem to like mine. Every day at least another one that I have to exterminate.”

Luckily there were no more spiders that afternoon so they were able to chat, refill their glasses from the pitcher of ice tea, and munched on the cookies until it was time for Lucy to go.

“And here’s Monday tomorrow again,” she said. “Weekend seemed to fly by. Pick you up same time?”

“Yes, same time. I’ll be ready.” Cindy replied as she put their glasses and the cookie platter on a tray to take inside the house.

“I’ll get the pitcher,” said Lucy.

After dinner Cindy watched TV for a while till, bored with the program, picked up the fantasy-romance novel she had started yesterday and read till she was ready for bed. A beautiful young girl fleeing danger, a mysterious man, dragons, and sex, she thought as she brushed her teeth, same formula, but it works. Time to get eight hours of sleep.

She was wakened from sleep by a woman’s soft voice singing a song about weaving. There was a dim light from the hallway that led to the living room. Must have left the TV on, she thought. But that can’t be, I distinctly remember turning it off, she then recalled. Strangely she did not feel afraid. I must be havng a dream, she thought, but that’s strange because I usually don’t realize I’m dreaming until I wake up. Cindy rounded the corner into the living room, where the soft light seemed to come from the air itself, and she saw a beautiful young woman weaving at a loom, dressed in a yellow and black Grecian-style tunic. The woman rose from the stool she had been sitting on and smiled at Cindy.

“Hello Cynthia,” the woman said. “Did you know that your name is of Greek origin as is mine?

“Who are you and what are you doing in my home?” Cindy asked, still not frightened.

“I am Arachne,” the woman replied, continuing to smile.

Arachne, Cindy thought, that kind of rings a bell. Something about a Greek myth.

As if she could read Cindy’s mind, Arachne said, “Yes, I challenged the Goddess Athena to a contest to see who could weave the most beautiful tapestry. Unfortunately for me, Athena was a poor loser and so she punished me.”

Greek Goddess and a weaving contest, Cindy thought, what a wild dream. Maybe the story I was reading before bed?

“Did you know that your name Cynthia is another name for Artemis, the sister of Apollo, and the virgin Goddess of hunting and the wilderness?” Arachne continued. “And you Cynthia have lived up to your name too well, hunting down my followers.”

“Hunting your followers?”

“Ah, you’re not aware of the consequences of your actions,” said Arachne.

“Consequences of my actions? What are you talking about?” Cindy asked, puzzled.

“Why do you hate my followers so much? Why are you killing my followers who are helping you in your garden?”

“Killing your followers? And in my garden? Wait, wait. What? You mean spiders?” Cindy asked, feeling a chill run down her spine, a weakness in her knees, backing away.

“Poor Cynthia, your are frightened. Let me ease your mind,” said Arachne, spreading her arms wide and approaching Cindy. “Come, let me embrace you and kiss you, in peace and forgiveness.”

Cindy was frozen in place in fascinated terror as she watched Arachne come closer, as she saw her two arms become four, to fold her closely even as she kissed her left cheek. And Cindy felt her fear drain away to be replaced by a feeling of peace and contentment as she was held tenderly, lovingly even, as black and yellow garden spiders streamed into the room through the open windows.

———————————————-

The next morning Lucy pulled her car to the curb in front of Cindy’s house. “She’s late coming out this morning thought Lucy. Usually she’s so prompt, standing here on the sidewalk unless the weather’s bad. After waiting another five minutes, Lucy got out of the car to ring the front door bell. No response.

“Cindy,” she yelled, knocking hard on the door. Nothing. Beginning to feel worried, Lucy went around to stand on tiptoe peering over a hedge, covered with spider webs, into the living room. She screamed at what she saw, but still had enough presence of mind to call 911. Then she retched again and again, sobbing uncontrollably.

When the firemen arrived they broke down the front door, then stopped at the entry from hall to the living room in horrified awe at the sight of Cynthia, suspended in the center of a giant spider web, wrapped in a cocoon of silk with just her face visible, eyes closed and a Mona Lisa smile on her lips. They carefully cut her out of the web. As one of the firemen gently laid her body on the floor, he remarked “She’s so light.”

September, 2025, a revision

If you remember the songs referenced, then you are—well—mature too. Songs listed below.

Autumn songs remembered

Remember those nostalgic songs of September?

When time was slow and love was mellow?

Now shorter days give proof it’s December.

The fields of grain are brown not yellow,

Old winters song now holds sway.

————

The red autumn leaves of October, November?

A wintry blast blew them far away.

————

The Bird of Time is on the wing,

Bird, open your beak while you can and sing.

For the hunter lurks, his aim is steady,

The oven door’s open, a roasting pan ready.

————

The bucket of lists, rusted through and through,

Spilling places to visit and things to do.

More precious now than any itinerary,

Are the people I love, both here and in memory,

For the days remaining are golden but few.

————

Buds in springtime, bright flowers of summer,

Tanned hands and faces, so well remembered.

There were fields of gold and dark starry nights,

The memories of these, still vivid and bright.

————

And the young love, the true love, who came from the sea?

Though time took its toll, she is still here for me.

Songs — Try to Remember, September Song, Autumn Leaves, Fields of Gold, Bells of St. Mary’s. —

Poem—Omar Khayyam

August, 2025, a thought

You Were Born to Lose

Obesity and its deleterious secondary health effects including Type 2 diabetes, is a ever- expanding health problem in America. There have been a plethora of diet plans and medical treatments from pills to surgery promoted over the years with very limited long-term results.

Latest figures show that Health Systems spent 173 billion dollars on obesity-related problems in 2024, and individuals spent 70 billion dollars on weight reduction efforts. More recently GLP-1 drugs, self-administerd injectables, have beem heavily promoted. The monthly personal cost ranges from 500 to 1500 dollars. It’s interesting that HHS Secretary Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., the czar of MAHA, or Make America Healthy Again, who had previously railed against GLP drugs (and the pharmaceutical industry in general) now thinks there’s a role for them and he’s the one who decides where the federal health dollars go.

Kennedy has been pro-natural and pro-organic and, anti-drugs, anti-vaccines, and against the pharmaceutical and chemical industries. With his bias, I think that now, in the fullness of time, the stage is ripe for the reintroduction of a previously outlawed all-natural, totally organic treatment for obesity that could sharply reduce costs.

——————————————-

Tapeworms.

———————————————-

Tapeworms as a treatment for obesity might be a difficult concept to swallow at first, but the science and logic are irrefutable. Even folk-wisdom supports it. I’m sure I’m not the only one who has heard people say, “He’s so thin and yet look at how much he eats. He must have a tapeworm.”

——————————————————

Some background information will lend weight to my proposal. There are three species of giant human tapeworm. Taenia saginata and Taenia solium, the beef and pork tapeworms respectively, and Diphyllobothrium latum, the fresh water fish tape worm. Tapeworm cysts are found in the flesh of their respective animal hosts and, when humans eat raw or undercooked beef, pork, or fresh water fish containing cysts, the cysts activate in the small intestine and attach themselves to the wall of the gut. They mature in several months, reach lengths of 10-30 feet, and live, if untreated, for decades. It is very important to emphasize that other than removing calories, tapeworms do not harm their human hosts.

These adult worms never invade our bodies, remaining only within our intestines where they absorb a portion of the calories that we eat. They pass eggs with our feces, which then find their way to the food supply of cattle, pigs or fish, are swallowed by them, and hatch in the animals’ intestines as larvae. (You can use your imagination about this part of their life cycle.) The larvae penetrate the intestinal wall and travel throughout the animals’ bodies to form cysts in the flesh, lying dormant, awaiting human diners who relish their meat or fresh water fish very rare or raw (think sashimi and steak tartare) thereby continuing the cycle.

———————————————————————-

*However, should a human swallow tapeworm eggs rather than cysts, especially of the pork tapeworm, serious problems could result. The human would take the place of the porcine host and the hatched larvae would penetrate and encyst in muscle, heart, brain, and even eyes, and could cause muscle and heart inflammation, convulsions, blindness, and death. Considering that human feces are the source of the eggs, swallowing them would involve extremely unsanitary conditions and habits.

————————————————————————

Studies comparing symptoms in people who have worms and those who don’t, find that occasional diarrhea is the only symptom of significance and, if it occurs, does so for only a short time after cyst ingestion. Other types of complaints are infrequent and indistinguishable between people with and without worms.

Thus, one advantage of tapeworms over other treatments for weight reduction is that they are free of side effects, except as noted below, and are associated with few, if any, symptoms. Another huge advantage is that one swallow, or at most a few, of cyst-containing flesh is the entire treatment. Unlike all medicines, injectables, and dietary supplements, no continuing treatments are needed to maintain weight loss.

————————————————————————

The choice of which worm to use involves aesthetic and religious considerations. Beef tapeworm segments are active and can breakoff and sometimes exit the anus. Pork tapeworm segments do not do this, but their use may be precluded because of dietary laws. Fish tapeworms usually pass tiny eggs rather than visible segments and therefore would likely be the treatment of choice for most people. However this species does absorb vitamin B-12 and a deficiency of vitamin B-12 called pernicious anemia could occur. This can be prevented with oral B-12 supplements.

The pork tapeworm is rarely found in the United States and the beef tapeworm is estimated to infect only .03% of cattle in the United States. On the other hand, the fish tapeworm is regularly found in fresh water fish and was a common human infestation in northern Europe. The north central states and Alaska are common sites of human infestation in the United States.

——————————————————-

Although tapeworms are technically classified as human parasites, they could more properly be termed symbionts when used for weight reduction, since this situation fulfills the definition of a symbiotic relationship–two dissimilar organisms living together for mutual benefit–a partnership.

The goal of tapeworm therapy is to enhance weight reduction by harmlessly removing some fat-building calories before they can be absorbed. This should not be thought of as a stand-alone, primary remedy–each person should still learn to restrict intake and to exercise. Otherwise, as soon as the intestinal symbionts are removed, a simple matter of swallowing the right pills, the former host will again begin to gain weight. However, if a person cannot adopt new eating habits, then the weight-reduction symbionts, with their life span of decades, could be left in place.

———————————————————-

There might also be unforeseen secondary benefits. People make pets of a great variety of animals. It is not inconceivable that some hosts may begin to feel similarly about their internal companions. The owner might feel grateful for the help of his or her symbiont. Although a worm probably cannot feel emotion, it certainly needs its human owner to provide shelter and food. It is also totally at the mercy of its human host who has the power to terminate its life instantly by merely swallowing pills. And it certainly would be unique. No other pet would so intimately share its owner’s life. It would also be a most convenient companion, requiring no litter box, no special foods, no quarantine when traveling, no boarding kennels, and no walks except as a passenger.

——————————————————————

Thus, tapeworm therapy for obesity will be a can’t-miss, biotechnological innovation in weight control, with the potential to eat into a huge part of this bloated market. A major advantage of this proposed treatment is that it is most certainly an all-natural, organic product and probably should not require FDA approval since it is not a drug. Development and production costs would be extremely low compared to the costs of developing a new drug, since the only requirement will be to establish and maintain clean, cyst-bearing schools of fish, or herds of cattle or pigs, as sources for flesh containing symbiont cysts. Fish would probably be easiest and best source. Who doesn’t like sashimi?

July, 2025, Story

Set in the future. How far in the future depends on the impact of Generative AI on creative writing or in fact any form of written communication.

College Counseling

“You wanted to see mr, Mr. Downing?’

“Yes, please have a seat, Xue. It’s about your college applications, in which you state that you intend to pursue Written English and Literature as your fields of study.”

“That’s right. Was there something wrong in the way I presented that? Was it unclear? Was I unconvincing in the video?”

“No, no, your presentation was fine. In fact I’d judge it to be among the top college application videos that I’ve ever reviewed.”

“Thank you, Mr. Downing.”

“No, it’s not about the video. It’s about your choice of field of study. Why Written English and Lit? You must realize that Written English is a dying if not dead subject. I mean it’s like studying Sanskrit. Unless you plan to go into a college teaching career—and how many of those are around—how would you make a living?”

“I just find that reading the original words of stories and novels is fascinating. How the authors put words and sentences together to create a personality, an environment, and an emotion. To study each author’s way of crafting their work to get their ideas across.”

“Well I see that you are taking four years of Written English to fulfill your language requirement. And you did very well—straight 4.0s. I’m curious. How did you, a second generation immigrant, become so fascinated with studying English and not aim for something in college more practical and rewarding like law or medicine or AI?”

“My introductory ninth grade class was taught by Mr. Ngawa. He is an immigrant too and yet he made reading the original words so fascinating. He said that not being born into the language gave him a fresh viewpoint and appreciation of it. He’s even working on a novel himself now. So I think his class was the biggest influence on me.”

“Well, you certainly did well in his class. But I’m not sure Mr. Ngawa did you any favors by getting you hooked. Fully written-out English is hardly in use now. When there are written communications, it’s mostly txt characters and icons. So much faster and clearer than even phoning. And using the speak-to-txt app, means you don’t even have to type. All instructional manuals are in video formats. Podcasts for information and opinion. Written English is just not a very practical major in our present society.”

“I know you want to help me, Mr. Downing, but reading the actual words that a writer uses gives me a connection that txt and icons don’t.”

“Xue, if you are talking about the so-called master works of fiction, they have been all put into visual form and, with music added, they convey the emotional content as vividly and clearly, perhaps even more so, than the printed word does. Now take Shakespeare. The video versions of his plays are in the language we use today so that they are easier to understand and their content is more accessible. Why would you want to read them in their original form and struggle to decipher his archaic English? And if you prefer to actually read from the printed page, there are manga adaptations of many “classic” novels that use the actual author’s words, though abbreviated to fit the manga format.”

“I realize that I could make more money studying something else in college. If you look at my math scores, they’re all 3.9s and 4.0s. But that’s not where my heart is. Maybe I could end up making a living by teaching or even writing.”

“Xue, even in the area of current creative writing, authors frame their work for the video and audio formats, not for the printed page since no one reads anymore. The scripts that are used in movies, television drama, and immersive, interactive first person adventures are AI generated. Or largely so. The same with technical instructions.”

“I know you have my best interests at heart, Mr. Downing, but I’m aware of the situation. I’m willing to take my chances. Even if I have to work at service jobs for a while until things click for me.”

“Well—-bravely spoken, Xue. Do your parents know of your plans? What do they think?”

“They are from the old country, but they are willing to let me try to find my own path, although I know they would rather have me follow a more conventional route like medicine or engineering. I told them I would try to do it without their support.”

“Xue, I just wanted to be certain that you know what you’re getting into before you’re too far along this senior year to change. It looks like you are aware of what you will face. I’ll help you in any way that I can. If you should decide on pursuing something else, please let me know. Otherwise, good luck with following your dream, Xue. I’ll schedule another meeting with you for February.”

“Thanks, Mr. Downing.”

June, 2025, song

June the month for weddings as was mine. For all the June and other month brides, past and present, a song.

Shadow of Love

music—lyrics: Lara’s Theme from Zhivago (Maurice Jarre)—Some Where My Love (Paul Webster)

Shadow of love,

Once we waltzed to this tune.

But then as now,

The music ends too soon.

—————————-

With lilt and sway,

Gracefully gliding the floor.

We were in love,

How could we wish for more?

——————————-

Fires of our youth,

And love’s sweet aching spell.

Though years have passed,

I still remember well.

———————————

Winter has come.

The skies are cloudy and grey,

But embers of love,

Still warm my heart today.

Yes the embers of love still warm my heart today.

May, 2025, Story

A Night Walk

Time to take that nightly walk, Olivia thought. The night was still warm from the heat of the summer day. and there was hardly any breeze. No need for a sweater or a scarf. As usual, she used the toilet before going out. I don’t want to have to rush home and risk a fall even though I’m just going around the block. It’s a long block and I walk slowly. I guess I could wear one of those adult diaper-type things, but I like to think I haven’t got there yet. But someday who knows.

Her cane was by the door next to where Lucy’s collar and leash still hung from one of the clothes pegs on the left wall in the entry way above the bench where she sat to put on her walking shoes. No laces she thought, glad they came out with these velcro straps. Old Lucy, I miss you. Fourteen years old. You didn’t pull hard anymore like you did when you were a puppy, after you became slow, just like me. We were two old dogs out for a walk. If Tommy had heard me say that he would have laughed and said, “Glad you didn’t say two old bitches.” Well now there’s just one, me. Check and double check to make sure I have the key before I close the door. Don’t want to lock myself out. Turn on the outside light.

She carefully descended the two steps to the cracked concrete walkway leading to the sidewalk; holding on to her cane with one hand and the stair railing with the other. How did I ever manage this with Lucy too? That was two years ago, and I was steadier on my feet then. Just two years, what a difference. And long before that, I walked with Tommy every night, no problem. Lucy was a big support for me when you suddenly died and left me, Tom, and it’s been thirteen years. No warning, Tom, that was the worse part. When you didn’t come in for lunch, I went to the garage and found you stretched out on the ground next to the car. Gone. I think I hated you for doing that to me, even as I cried and loved you and missed you. Oh Tommy. We had a good life together, didn’t we? Except for the ending.

It was a safe neighborhood. Not gated, but with neighbors who had been mostly living here a long time; who’d raised families and stayed even when their children had grown and gone. Just like ours Olivia thought. Jerry. Gone to the Big city where the jobs and opportunities are. How’s that song go—‘New York, New York it’s a wonderful town?’ Not many kids on this street now. Though that nice new family moved in down the street last month with two young kids. Linns. Said they left the big city so their kids could grow up with grass and they could walk to school by themselves safely. Guess that’s why I still stay here. Even though Jerry keeps telling me I should move to a retirement community. Said there’re some in the City so I could be closer to him. Or at least one in Connecticut that would be nearer to him than I am here. Our home with so many memories that are hard to leave. And our town where I can walk safely at night by myself. Try doing that in New York.

The street lamps cast their light through the canopies of the elms that lined the street making a pattern of shifting light and dark shadows on the sidewalk and street. Olivia knew every crack and uneven rise in the sidewalk by heart. But she still walked with her head bent slightly forward so that she could watch where she stepped. She seldom met anyone else. She preferred it that way. Not that she was unfriendly, but standing still and talking was really hard on her back. Walking during that in-between hour when dinner was over for most people and they were watching TV and too early for the dog owners taking their last walk before winding up the day. Like I did with Lucy.

I used to be able to hear the programs that each neighbor was watching, especially during the summer with the windows open. But now, even with my new hearing aids, it all sounds muffled and distant. Bad ears, bad eyes, bad back, bad knees. Like they say, ‘growing old is not for sissies.” Tommy, you were no sissy, but you didn’t stay around long enough to find out if that was true. Just seventy six. And just retired eight years. You left me to find out about growing really old all by myself. You were so active and strong, Tennis three times a week. Gardening. Volunteering. Still liked sex. And yes, I did too, and I didn’t need to take a blue pill. Well, I still think about us. Dirty old lady—ah, if they only knew. It took me a while to get used to not having you around. When you were first gone, I’d start to say something to you when my back was turned and then realize that you weren’t there. And I would ache all over again. Who ever said time heals all things? Baloney. But we learn to adjust and cope and survive. If it had been me to go first, how would you have done? Would you have found someone to replace me? Like trading in a car? I wear the wedding ring you gave on a chain around my neck. Fingers got so arthritic that it wouldn’t fit on my fourth finger any more. Funny, I still feel for it there every once in a while. I put your ring and my engagement ring in with your ashes. Ah Tommy, I like to think that you’re still around me somewhere and you can hear me. Guess that doesn’t fit with Rev. Mathew’s idea of Heaven.

She’d made her way around three sides of the long block, and was now rounding the fourth corner and heading home. Up ahead, under a street lamp, Olivia saw a person in a black hoody walking towards her. But all in black? Not the safest way to dress at night. A young person’s walk, she thought. She decided it was a man, feeling a momentary worry. Not many young men in our neighborhood now. Maybe back from college, visiting parents or grandparents? Should I cross the street? If he plans to hurt me, I couldn’t out run him anyway. I’ll just say good night as we pass. Hs face was still hidden by the hood as they drew closer.

He spoke first, a pleasant tenor voice, “Good evening, Olive Oil.”

That stopped her. “Wait. What? Why I haven’t been called that since I was in high school! Do I know you?”

He laughed, “Oh, I know everything about you, Olivia.”

“Who are you? Please take down your hood so I can see your face. What a surprise.”

He pulled back his hood, revealing the face of a smiling young man with head of thick, black hair.

“I don’t recognize you,” she said after studying his face. “Did I meet you at your parents’ home when you visited?”

“No,” he replied. “I’m here tonight just to see you, Olivia. But I think you already know me.”

“I know you?” Then the slow realization, as she watched him waiting patiently, still smiling. “Yes, I have been expecting you. But you’re so young and good looking. What took you so long to find me?”

“To each in their own time. And I like not being stereotyped.” he replied. “But now, are you ready to go? Shall we dance?”

“It’s been so long since I’ve danced. I’ve forgotten how to.”

“Take my hand and I’ll lead. It’ll be easy.”

April, 2025, story

Shock and Awe

The explorer emerged from a “worm hole” in space and began to orbit Earth, undetectable by human technology. Its mission, as programmed by the ancient race that sent it on its journey, was to find, catalogue and, if need be, assist the beings or civilizations that it found. The ship, christened Gamma Five, was a super-computer carrying a minimal biologic crew of three. The race that launched it had a philosophy of peace and benevolence that it wished to share with the younger races that it encountered in the galaxy.

Gamma-Five found a world that was environmentally severely degraded and wracked by discord that had not as yet resulted in the use of nuclear weapons, but it seemed only a matter of time before a desperate country or group might resort to their use which would then rapidly cascade into a planet destroying hell.

The biologic crew was appalled by what they found. To gain an understanding of how these beings, who called themselves humans, arrived at such a point, Gamma-five began a review of recorded human history as well as the vast catalogue of literature and visual entertainment that presented a picture of their beliefs and philosophies. It found that humans had throughout their history always fought and waged wars for domination—individual against individual, clan against clan, tribe against tribe, nation against nation, belief against belief, religion against religion. Gamma Five concluded that if this trend continued, there could be only one outcome—a total destruction of the science and technology-based civilization and a return to the clan level on a severely damaged planet from which point the process would slowly repeat itself.

The biologic aliens, Gammas A, B, and C, discussed this dismal prediction telepathically.

Gamma A asked, “These humans will not survive to attain adulthood if present conditions continue. Should we intervene?”

Gamma B replied, “By our philosophy we must attempt to assist them and change the trajectory of their history. That is also programmed into Gamma-Five’s mission mandate.”

“The will to dominate and conquer seems so ingrained in their nature that I doubt that anything we can offer them as an inducement to change their ways will be enough to convince them,” said Gamma C. “Gamma-Five, from your study of the humans, do you have a comment?”

“I agree with Gamma C,” said Gamma Five. “Even when their sages or prophets preached peace, tolerance, and humanhood, their teachings became quickly subverted by their followers who either tried to force their beliefs on others who did not agree or perverted the meaning of what had been taught to suit selfish purposes.”

“You feel then, Gamma Five, that just showing them that their actions are leading them into disaster would not alter what they are doing?” asked Gamma B, raising a questioning digital tentacle.

“I do,” said Gamma Five. “They have been repeatedly warned of the folly of their actions or inactions by their fellows humans and yet their governing bodies do not listen.”

“Yet we cannot just leave and let them self-destruct,” Gamma A said. “A quandary.”

“Gamma Five, from your study of humans, how could we best help them change course?” asked Gamma B.

“They are a paranoid, suspicious race. Composed of different factions constantly looking to dominate or to avoid being dominated. Perhaps if this trait can be turned from being directed against each other to against a common foe, that might stop their internal strife long enough for them to mature”

“I see,” said Gamma C. “Divert their attention to a threat external to themselves. You mean such as we might represent if we reveal ourselves, given their paranoia!”

“Exactly,” said Gamma Five. “Their popular entertainment has always harbored the possibility of encountering alien life forms and usually the aliens that they encounter are hostile. Further evidence of their underlying nature.”

“But,” said Gamma A, waving a large tentacle for emphasis, “It is against our nature to actually threaten anyone. To defend ourselves if need be, certainly. If we use this tactic, we should appear to be a threat without actually being one.”

“To get their attention and announce our presence, we need to do something awe-inspiring that is totally beyond their understanding; to shock them out of their core beliefs. And that the entire Earth experiences together,” said Gamma B. “Thoughts, Gamma Five?”

——————————————————

And so in July the full moon was suddenly gone for ten minutes all around the Earth that night, replaced by a black hole in the night sky around which the stars still shone. And the next day, the sun suddenly turned black in a blue sky at noon. A message was heard telepathically by all humans: “Greetings Earthlings. The events of last night and today was our way of introducing ourselves to you. We are an ancient race and in our travel through the galaxy we came upon your world, a once Edenic place that you are in the process of destroying. This must stop! We will not reveal ourselves to you at this time, but remember, we will be watching you!”

The explorers hoped that the shock of their arrival and the message that they delivered would unify the humans and they prepared to continue their explorations, leaving behind an observation sentinel.

In the aftermath of this unprecedented event, governments around the world convened to deal with the crisis, even as people prayed and rioted, took to their survival shelters and raided gun shops.

—————————————————————

The president of the United States called an emergency meeting of his cabinet, senior military, and key scientific advisors.

“I’ve declared martial law to cope with the panic and riots,” said the president, “that I’ll lift once we have some answers for the public. First, do these aliens pose an immediate threat to us? General?”

“Not an immediate threat in our opinion,” the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs answered, “Otherwise they would have just invaded without this magic show. I mean my God, we can’t even detect them! Longer term? We don’t have enough information.”

The vice president said, “I agree. They said ‘at this time.’ So we don’t know what their long term plans are. They also said, ‘we will be watching.’ a warning,an implied threat?”

“NASA has some interesting information that Houston received from the Space Station,” said the president. “John?”

NASA’s head scientist spoke, “At the moment that the sun disappeared from our view, it was still very much visible to the Station. But below them in the atmosphere they saw a shining sun-bright disc that traveled with the Earth’s rotation that would have been the diameter of the sun as seen from the ground.”

The president waited until the murmurs and exclamations died down. “Do you have a hypothesis?”

“Other than whatever was done was done in Earth’s atmosphere, no. The disc instantly disappeared as the sun-block ended. The Station was able to quickly analyze the atmosphere in the area of the disc afterwards and found nothing.”

“Suggestions—anyone?” asked the president.

An atmospheric scientist raise her hand, “Could it be water vapor that was somehow controlled by the aliens to form the disc?”

“How would that work?” the president asked.

“I don’t know,” she replied. “Perhaps a physicist or a chemist could comment.”

A physicist from Cal Tech raised his hand, “If the aliens did not introduce a substance to form the discs, and they used what was present in our atmosphere as the disc material, then water molecules would be the most likely candidate, as my colleague has suggested. To do that is beyond our science, but probably not theirs. The aliens would need to concentrate water molecules to form the disc, and then orient and coordinate each water molecule to reflect light in single direction away from Earth.”

“You’re suggesting that in essence they created a giant mirror,” the president said.

“That could be one explanation of how they did it,” replied the physicist.

After a long pause while this thought sunk in, the Secretary of Defense asked, “ If they are able to do that, could they also form a concave disc that would concentrate the sun’s rays on a single point on earth?”

“Of course I don’t know for certain, but if they can do what they just did, I don’t see why not.”

“So—they could pose a very real threat to us, to all of us,” the Secretary said to the president.

The silence that followed was broken when the Chief of the Space Force mused, “If we could learn that technology we would immediately once more become the most powerful nation on earth. To use the sun to fry or threaten to fry any adversary!”

“Like burning holes in leaves with a magnifying glass when we were kids,” said the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. “Would it be possible to form a lens as well as a mirror?”

“If the aliens could do the one, it’s highly likely they could do the other,” replied the physicist.

——————————————————————

Other nations were not without capable scientists and ambitious generals who met and arrived at the same analysis. And so the great Space mirror/lens race was on, despite the intentions of the aliens.

March 2025 Story

The Maze

….it’s getting late and i keep running into dead ends. how’d i get into this maze anyhow? the cornstalks are high and closely planted. why can’t i remember? another wrong turn. the dirt is so black, so uneven to walk on. big clods. don’t want to spend the night sleeping in here. the corn rustles. don’t know if there’s something coming through them. wolves? do i play dead if one comes for me? okay, got into a row that seems to be leading somewhere. another dead end! backtrack and turn left. i must have gone out for something. it’s darker. did i turn this way before? should I yell for help? my phone! why didn’t i think of that before. i’ll call sarah so she’ll know i’ll be late. what’s the password? i can’t remember the password. the battery’s almost dead….

Oh, thank God. I woke up just in time. It was just a bad dream. I’m awake but where am I? I must be lying on my back in this white place. Now I remember. The ceiling looks so high above and the walls so far apart. My dream had color—it seemed so frighteningly real. But there’s no color in this place. I can hear activity around me. Soft muffled voices. Wheels rolling by? And there may be people moving out of the corners of my eyes. Why can’t I move my eyes to see them? Am I still dreaming or awake? It must be breakfast time if I just woke up. But I don’t feel hungry. I’ll get up and look around. The back wall keeps receding as I walk towards it and I don’t see a door so how can I get out to see where I am? Guess I’ll go back to bed and just rest….

….where’s that sandwich shop that we went to the last time we were visiting. the pastrami was really piled on. And sauerkraut. i’ll bring it back to the hotel. it was half way down clement street. or claremont? i’m here, but where is it? excuse me mister, but did the tasty sandwich shop move? “it’s now in the mall.” oh it’s in the mall now? thanks. huh, really small door to the mall. and i should have asked where in the mall. there are so many corridors and it’s not very well lit. no direction board. try the middle corridor that looks like there are some food stalls—got colorful awnings. pizza, dim sum, fish and chips, chicago hot dogs, waffle cone ice cream, but no sandwich shop. there’s another door at the end of the lane. up spiral stairs, dark and musty smelling. push open this heavy grey door. now what? just a long hallway with closed sanded glass doors and no signs. where’s a rest room—i need one now. look quickly down the hall. here’s one. it’s not very clean with paper towels on the floor. smells bad. but i’ll use the stainless steel trough. ah, that’s better. back in the hallway. but how do i get out? ask this guy—excuse me but where’s the exit? “you just have to follow the office workers out at quiting time.” thank you. open this metal door and go up more stairs. another heavy grey steel door. up on the roof. a really lush garden here and green grass i should phone sarah that i haven’t found the sandwich shop. wrong number? what’s the right number? try again. wrong number again. try later. great view, the city looks really spread out from up here. all the way to the sea. maybe i can walk back to the hotel….

Such a real dream. Too bad I didn’t find the sandwich shop. Sarah and I really liked their pastrami. But it was just a dream. Who’s coming up? Oh, it’s Dr. Long with someone new.

“Good morning, James. James is our patient who’s been with us the longest with locked-in syndrome,” Dr. Long said to the new resident he is orienting. “James, this is Paul who will be assisting in your care.”

“Hi James,’ says Paul hesitantly. “He can see and hear us?”

“Yes. James is unlike most people who are locked-in, in that his eye muscles are also paralyzed. So unfortunately he can’t use eye movements to communicate with us. But we think he can hear us because his auditory region lights up on functional MRI (fMRI) when we talk to him. Likewise his visual cortex when we show him pictures of his family.”

“What about his EEG?” asks Paul.

“James’ EEG shows wake patterns as you would find in a waking person, and sleep patterns when he’s asleep. We think he dreams too, because he dips into and out of REM sleep tracings. During waking periods, the fMRI motor areas will light up at times so we think he is walking or doing other motor tasks in his mind.”

Dr. Long steps back from the bedside so that an attendant can access James’ ostomy port to feed him his liquid lunch, and then change his urine drainage pad.

‘”James, Paul and I will be back later today. We’d like to run some more tests on you. Nothing painful. Okay? See you later.”

Okay Dr. Long. Guess I really don’t have a say in the matter. Oh Sarah, we had such a happy visit to San Francisco. It’s great to remember. And the Cliff House at sunset….

Outside of James’ room, Paul asks, “Dr. Long, is he still sane? I mean locked into his mind with no way to communicate. I can’t imagine how horrible that must be.”

“We try to keep him engaged with travel and science programs on TV as well as movies. PT visits daily. We found out from his wife what music he enjoyed and play those. And she and the children visit regularly.”

“What about the testing today?”

“We’re trying out a new scalp electrode cap to see if he can be taught to answer yes or no questions by activating discrete parts of his cortex to communicate at least in a minimal way.”

“Aren’t there experiments with implanted brain electrodes?” asks Paul.

“First we’ll see if James can be taught to communicate in a simple yes or no way. And then if he is capable of that, we’ll speak with his wife Sarah about next steps.”