Words..."To live by"

To begin; the Oxford dictionary has over 170,000 words plus almost 50,000 considered obsolete.  The Mariam-Websters has 470,000. The average English vocabulary runs some 20-35,000 words.  I'm betting Stephen King's vocabulary runs well over a hundred thousand. So what the Hell does that even amount to?  To see, at least for me, I'm going to kick it around a little here.

Words:

Precede action; "I'll be back."

Succeed action; "We kicked ass."

Set the stage; 'It was a dark and stormy..."

Demonstrate ignorance; "Merica, love it or leave it."

Provoke laughter; "Shit happens."

Profess love; "...for richer or poorer..."

Clarify facts; "...the hip bone connected to the thigh bone..."

Convey success; "He made it."

Convey failure; "He didn't make it."

Express shock; "Oh My God."

Express surprise; "What the f___?!"

Turn up the dial; "I'm gonna' kick your ass!"

Turn down the dial; "It's okay."

Reflect history; "Four score and seven..."

Make history; "...a day which will live in infamy..."

Obscure history; "It wasn't an insurrection..."

Contradict each other; "Alternative truth."

Clarify emotion; "I love it when you do that."

Clarify emotion 2: I hate when you do that."

Express frustration; "No one told me it was a left-handed bolt."

Beg imitations; Emojis

Demonstrate apathy; "Meh."

Of caution; "Lighten up."

Mark a moment; "It's Howdy Doody time!"

Rewrite history; "There was no Holocaust."

There's more, there's always more but you get my drift here right?  I think words cover every single one of the bases.  Besides, what the Hell would we do without them? Just look at each other, make faces and expressively grunt? Well, maybe we could make a good argument for that too...

The Trained Killer

 

"Ima' trained killer.
Love masks of all kinds,

And camo' stuff, lots of it

Ima' trained killer
Love to plant a giant flag
In the back of my pick'um up truck.

Ima' trained killer.
Got military-grade watches, knives and stuff,

Ima' trained killer.
Never served in the military

Ima' trained killer.
Life member of the NRA,

Ima' trained killer.
My guns make me stronger,

Ima' trained killer.
Going after school kids,
shoppers, teachers, blacks, latinos, Muslims
Anyone...especially those who threaten my second
'mendment rights.

Ima' trained killer.

Gonna' be famous on that there television

Ima' trained killer. 

Yessiree.
Plus, I OWN fifty United States Senators.
Maybe more...lost count."

Her......and him

The Artist

Her perspective on things

Drawn, literally, from studies

As student

As teacher

And from her own inspiration

People's faces mainly

Backed by textures, colors, lines

Backed by a practiced hand

But works unsigned

Why?

Customary for artists?

Until the work changes hands?

And what about titles?

The bearded man - his name?

The lady who visited Yosemite - her purpose?

Is there more about them?

The boy in the collage - the effect

Seriously... seriously good

The self-portrait - somber, colorless

Yet telling of wisdom

Telling of a life

Lived full

The attributes she pursues

In herself and others

In all these, "... something good and true."

Something "... authentic."

Will there be a posthumous 

"Artist Unknown?"

That caption these fine works

I hope not.

Bot?! I Think Not...

I was invited (thanks again Quilldog) to do a short story about bots and how they relate to marketing, content and leader development and include the “seedier side.” In a page or so no less. My knee jerk (yeah, this happens a lot) reaction was; if I was just slightly thorough, I could write an opus on each of those elements. It would just take a little research into the tons of articles and stories that circulate today. So, I won’t. Instead, I’m going to plumb the seedy side a little.  Just with some recent experience with bots (maybe) and some, not so wild speculation on how they might be used for AGI.

First, a couple of the many definitions out there on both topics so we are sort of on the same page with this: 

A bot -- short for robot and also called an internet bot -- is a computer program that operates as an agent for a user or other program or to simulate a human activity. Bots are normally used to automate certain tasks, meaning they can run without specific instructions from humans. 

Artificial general intelligence (AGI) is a form of AI that possesses the ability to understand, learn and apply knowledge across a wide range of tasks and domains. Here is a link to a good, straight forward article on what AI is and what its current applications are: https://www.simplilearn.com/tutorials/artificial-intelligence-tutorial/artificial-intelligence-applications

Now, I will share a little recent personal experience that may include some of both, you know, some probable bot stuff and then some imaginary but possible AGI stuff.

In the past 90 days, Bots in Singapore have apparently cruised my blog stories almost 7,000 times.  That represents about 10% of the near 7,000 hits on my “Travel On" stories since I began posting them in 2008.  Lately I have been working on that very blog, along with my other Harley Davidson (25k+ hits) blog to produce a blockbuster memoir tentatively titled; “Hayseed.”  As soon as it hits the NYT bestseller list, I plan to option film rights to Clint Eastwood who I assume will want to assign the other Tom…Cruise that is, to play lead. As evidence, here is a little pie chart from my “Travel On” blog showing reads for the past three months.

This is what I have gathered from that event.  Those little bastard bots are being used to collect and collate information for generative AI. This will quickly turn each of my 600+ stories for “Hayseed” into bestsellers in and of themselves without benefit of further human touch.  Watch for them under the highly suspicious nom de plume; Abbot Miyagi.    

The Singaporean bots, from what I understand, are quicker than I can key in the word “bot.”  Yes, sad but true.  That means by the time I publish “Hayseed” the country of Singapore will be able to sue me for printing my own words.  

In fact, consider that generative AI may very well be keying in these words right now.  Nah, just pulling your chain…or am I?

 

The Wrinkle's Hand

You may may not be familiar with the terms "wrinkle" and "squeeze." Heard it somewhere a long time ago and was lead to believe it distinguished between a young person, "squeeze" and an old one, "wrinkle. As the title suggests, this story is about the latter.

When I was a "squeeze," I often noticed and wondered  about the appearance of a person's hands.  There's a lot more variety than a person might suspect.  Smooth, rough, callused, manicured, scarred...and the list goes on right?

A couple of nights ago, I was reading Nelson Demille's latest novel and went into scan mode during a somewhat boring section when I noticed the back of my own hand. Yup.  My own. I recalled I had seen the same sort of hands on others before...wondering about the life of the person that possessed them...whether it had been a long and hopefully a good one.  Now, reflecting on my own I would say "yes," mine has been long and good.  Mostly thanks to the people who have influenced me through example and support.  Loved ones past and present.  If you are one and you are reading this...Thank You for nurturing the life that is reflected in a wrinkle's hand.

WSOP Salute to Warriors 2023 - Two Rookies Ride

It began simply. He saw a Twitter post that announced a contest to select a veteran for an expense paid trip to enter the 2023 Las Vegas World Series of Poker. It was for one of over 60 tournaments, this one called the "Salute to Warriors."

The contest was sponsored by self-described "besse frens" Angela Jordison and Jacki Hughes. Over time I've come to think of the two as poker pros although they might disagree. Angela had been playing in a tournament out East I believe. She was so impressed with the sportsmanship and demeanor of one of her competitors (a military veteran) she offered him travel, lodging and entry fees for the upcoming "Salute" tournament.

As news spread, others stepped up to offer sponsorship for more veterans and so, being what I would call expert organizers, Angela and Jacki decided to develop a contest for a total of 10 winners.  Veterans were asked to make a video explaining their military service, interest in poker and the World Series. They also needed to submit documentation of their veteran status.  It was all done online so it was a speedy process.  

I thought; well, I love playing poker and the World Series is right up there on my bucket list so I made a short video and submitted it.  Then, to my surprise, a pal from many previous local tournaments; Charisse Case recommended me. That did it I think.  I was one of the top ten. Donations kept pouring in and in the end Angela and Jacki ended up selecting 15 veterans to sponsor.

Still, I wasn't sure I would be able to make it for a while as some family medical issues needed attention.  Finally, thanks to my daughter Samantha and wife Julieann, things cleared up just a few days before the tournament. Son Tyler also showed interest (To watch over/chaperone his old dad?) so we booked flights.  From Sacramento, Spirit Airlines is the only carrier that offers direct flights to Las Vegas at reasonable times.  They seem to have a pretty bad reputation but our travel both ways was smooth although they do tack on charges for most everything. It was however, a pleasant surprise to find that the bathrooms on the planes weren't coin operated.

For our first morning there, Angela and Jacki had organized a fine breakfast in a private setting.  There, they also handed out gift bags loaded with donated poker merchandise.  We were later joined by Lon McEachern and Norman Chad, legendary voices of poker and both nominees for the 2023 Poker Hall of Fame.  Lon lives in our area. We have played several tournaments together and he also narrated my deepest large poker tournament run a few years earlier so it was a great to see him and introduce my son.

Next, the Salute to Warriors began.  I had a decent day, running deep in the field but not cashing.  Some of our group of "15" ran deeper and I believe a couple of them ended up in the money.  All together, it was most impressive as thousands, more like tens of thousands of players showed to enter dozens of tournaments in and around the Las Vegas strip.

Tyler Thomas Campbell
WSOP winner

On our third day there, it occurred to me that my son should enter a World Series tournament just to chalk up the experience even though he had only played a couple of tournaments many years before. He agreed and at breakfast, he asked many questions about the fundamentals...folding, betting, ranges and such. Together, we covered just enough information to get him started.  It was a $250 Series side event and neither of us had high expectations.  Early on, Tyler caught pocket Aces and had three callers all-in.  His Aces held up, he quadrupled his stack and knocked out two of his three opponents in the process. In a field of over 900 entrants, he played pretty tight from then on and finished in the money!  I was and I am sure proud and happy for him.

In one of the early levels of that tournament, I was in the big blind.  There were mucks all around to the small blind and he called at I think around 2,500.  I looked down at my pocket and it was ten-deuce off suit.  I immediately announced "all-in" and the small blind folded.  I then showed my hand in honor of Doyle Brunson (RIP) and the hand he is most famous for.  The entire table got a kick out of that one. (In case you don't know, he won back-to-back World Series titles with that hand.)

As for me, I met some mighty fine folks, had some deep runs in the three tournaments I entered and enjoyed every bit of it...even the block-long, fast-moving bathroom lines during breaks.  Over the years, I've written maybe a dozen stories about the Texas Hold'em poker experience.  This will likely be the culmination...the end...finis as I gotta' get back in the game and focus on that.  Or will there be more?  We'll see.

In the meantime, for those of you who know, I'll see you at the final table.

   

The Circle - An MSC Story

I was a rookie, a shavetail lieutenant and former Air Force enlisted man. It was my first assignment as a Medical Service Corps officer and I had just completed my initiation as hospital squadron commander. I had a new job as the medical resource manager and a new boss, BTZ Major and fellow MSC Charlie Brown.  One day Charlie walked into my office and dropped a hospital regulation on my desk. The regulation directed the organization and management of the hospital cost center management program. It had been developed by one of Charlie's colleagues at an earlier assignment to Travis Air Force Base. The author was then Captain Terry Cunningham.  

As he walked back out of my office, Charlie turned and said; "Make me one of these."  So I proceeded to plagiarize the regulation and make it our own... one for Mountain Home Air Force Base Hospital. Over the next few months we operated the cost center management program according to the regulation, assigning managers from each department, conducting regular meetings plus establishing and tracking action items.  It went well and our eventual Tactical Air Command staff "advisors" agreed.

About three years later, I had just finished an AFIT sponsored MHA program at the Medical College of Virginia and was updating our resource management program. I was assigned to Fairchild Hospital and was working for then Lieutenant Colonel Paul McNally. I got my hands once again on the Cunningham paper, tailored it to our hospital, and then organized our cost center management program accordingly.  Not long after, we were visited by the medical inspector general team from Norton Air Force Base. The inspector for our Resource Management program turned out to be none other than Lieutenant Colonel Terry Cunningham. Needless to say, our hospital resource management program did well.

It was a solid circle of management; from Terry to Charlie to me and eventually back to Terry. I'm pretty sure that regulation got a lot of other circulation as well.  

Note:  Charlie Brown retired as a Colonel having served as SGA at Space Command, the Air Force Academy and Lakenheath, England. Charlie was a walk around, positive style, administrative whiz and master delegator ("bend them arrows"). Terry Cunningham retired as a Colonel having served as SGA (Administrator) at the Air Force's biggest facility, Wilford Hall Medical center (Noteworthy that Terry's son would retire after serving in the exact same capacity some years later). Terry was a great organizer and mentor with an upbeat approach. Paul McNally would retire as a Colonel after serving as the top logistics MSC for the Air Force Medical Service. Paul mastered at deciding the right thing to do and finding a way to get it done despite any opposing regulations. They all had many other attributes but these stand out in my mind. 

Damn. I sure got to work for and with some talented folks back then. In reflection, my only regret is leaving early as a Major after serving half my 24 years enlisted and the other half commissioned. I missed (still do) our common purpose and ability to prioritize the humanitarian ethic over the business ethic though both were and are critical. In my following 25 years or so as a healthcare consultant to dozens of for-profit and not-for-profit healthcare organizations, I never did come across as great a bunch of people as those three and those who served with them. I could have hung around the Corps much, much longer and still been a happy camper.  

The Venns (Harleys and Poker of course!)

Venn diagrams have been pretty damn popular for a long time.  They are typically used in corporate or academic presentations to illustrate the association between two or more topics or subjects.  

But hey, they can be used for other things and these two have recently occurred to me.  They clearly represent, at least in my pitiful mind, the association between topics I am reasonably familiar with. Well, maybe it's more like they are passions of mine.  I am fair at both but far from being an expert at either.  That is why you will probably get absolutely nothing out of this feeble pursuit of mine. Here we go: 

The Harley Venn: 

HOG HeaVenn - ©nope ™nope, not this either

You probably don't need much more explanation of this one other than...you cannot have a coherent conversation with a Harley rider when she or he is in this state of 'HeaVenn.'  This person wraps up in leather and prefers "Badass" for a moniker.  I know as I was there for more than 20 years.  Unfortunately I have aged out and now mist up frequently at the memories...see book preview HERE.

The Poker Venn:

The Poker Venn - ©ixnay ™never happen

This one is a tad more difficult to explain, especially if you are not a poker fan(atic).  You see, if you play the game you are certain to find yourself in a situation when you think you have a winning hand and don't know if your opponent(s) have one that is/are stronger.  Or you may be considering an outright bluff to entice others to fold.  So, you go in the "tank."  In poker vernacular that means, you pause to think your situation over.  If you do this for just a few seconds, the other players at your table will completely understand.  If you do if for an extended period, say 30 seconds or more, the other players at the table will begin to squirm, look at their watches or cell phones checking the time, mutter amongst themselves and perhaps begin searching for objects suitable to pick up and throw at you.  If you spend too long in the "tank", any of the other players at the table can call "time" on you.  When that happens, the dealer calls the "floor" or tournament director over.  The director then checks his watch and gives you 30 seconds to make your decision.  

I am usually pretty quick at "hold'em or fold'em" poker decisions but I have personally froze up on a couple of occasions.  In fact, twice I have wrestled with a decision for a minute or more and finally, in frustration called the clock on myself in an effort to force my brain to unfreeze.  I should point out in more than 12 years of playing tournament poker, I have never witnessed any other player call the clock on themselves.  That should tell you a little about how deviant my fractured mind is.

Versatile right?!  I am referring to Venn diagrams of course.  You can apply them to most anything and bore folks left and right.  

A Series of Fortunate Events

Event #1:  1963 - 17-year old brand spanking new high school graduate - straight "A" student in Naivete' 101 (Actual GPA was 2.0 - I didn't deserve it).  Parents signed for me to join Air Force.  While in basic training, was tested and selected for Defense Language School in Monterey.  Filled out forms for security clearance and omitted arrest and conviction at 15 for "driving car without owner's consent."  Shortly after, was sent to technical training to become public health technician instead.  While processing into the school, was handed my records folder to take to another check-in point.  Peeked in folder and noticed they had discovered my omission about getting busted. Yet, they waived a "discharge for fraudulent enlistment." Went on to serve four-year commitment and left service at age 21.  Great adventures and great way to grow up...some.

Event #2:  1967 - Back home after first hitch, Seattle seemed too small.  Not happy with work opportunities. After a few months, re-signed with Air Force.  They wanted me to go to Intelligence school so I filled out another security clearance questionnaire and this time, listed my arrest at 15.  It worked. I got a Top Secret SCI clearance and went through Photo Interpreter and Combat Intelligence training at Lowry Air Force base, Denver Colorado.

Event #3:  1969 - Met and married Julieann Marie Thomas to begin 53-year plus relationship.  Be still my heart. Also assigned to Utapao Royal Thai Air Force Base, Thailand where I built strike charts for B-52 bombers.

Event #4:  Promotions were slow (it was probably me) and, after being selected for second tour in Southeast Asia within one year of return to States I was allowed to decline the assignment.  This meant I was ineligible for promotion and was due to be discharged from the service.  Air Force promptly promoted me by accident.  I was set up for nice potential bonus so I asked to withdraw my declination statement and volunteered to return to Southeast Asia.  It worked, I reenlisted and I promptly went back to Thailand (Udorn Royal Thai Air Force Base) where I worked as a photo interpreter picking out targets for air crews. 

Event #5: Passed College Level Entrance Program tests and was almost a sophomore before I took actual college classes (probably learned something from my love of reading...in spite of myself).  Began night classes in Thailand, continued them in next assignment and when I got close enough, I requested full time college under the Air Force's "Bootstrap" program.  Was selected, and we moved from Phoenix to San Bernardino where I completed Chapman College in ten months of night school then back again to Phoenix.  Yes it was fast... three and a half years start to finish. 

Event #6: 1973 - While back in Phoenix after graduation, I found out the Air Force Education folks had failed to have me acknowledge 3:1 payback time for Bootstrap education so I could leave quickly if I wanted. My third (gulp!) hitch, more than half way through a career, was almost up. It would have totaled 12 years; first four goofing around, second four settling down and third four finally getting serious about education. Then I was free to pursue any direction.  

Event #7: I had enjoyed my time in the Air Force so I applied for a commission in the Medical Service Corps. I had decided if that didn't work I would leave and perhaps pursue an MBA.

Event #8: 1975 - While home on leave, an Air force pal tending our Phoenix home called and said I had received a letter from the Medical Service Corps. He asked if I wanted him to open and read it to me. I said "yes" and in front of Julieann, my folks and brother he read the letter notifying me I had been selected. To receive that terrific news in their presence was pretty amazing.

Event #9: While at first assignment, I heard of opportunities to pursue Air Force sponsored Master's Degree in Healthcare Administration.  I asked around and a more senior officer told me; "I applied three times and got selected the third time."  I figured I had better start my three attempts then and applied right away.  My timing was good, I got lucky and was selected...first try.

Event #10: 1979 - Finished Master's program (fortunately) at Medical College of Virginia then assigned to Strategic Air Command's Fairchild hospital in Spokane, Washington.  Son Tyler Thomas was born there... in that same hospital. Julieann followed me to work to have our baby.

Event #11: 1980 - Boss at Fairchild, venerable Colonel Paul McNally had to leave for several months of Air War College and picked me to serve as temporary hospital administrator in his place.  Following visit by Strategic Air Command senior staff, Colonel Gottlieb and company, I was invited to assume Administrator job at northern Michigan hospital.  We had been at Fairchild less than a year.  I asked Julieann what she thought and didn't need a verbal response as I noticed tears in her eyes...not of happiness. I regretfully turned it down.  A few months later, right at our first year anniversary there, I was again offered the Administrator position, this time at the Air Force hospital in Great Falls, Montana. Julieann then held back the tears as I am pretty sure she knew how much I wanted that job. Son Tyler was right at a year old when we left Spokane. Julieann loved Spokane and the home we bought there. It was but one of many hardships she successfully faced during our career of moving really fast from place to place.   

Event #12: 1984 - As I approached the average 3-4 year tenure at Great Falls, Father's health was failing and I applied for a humanitarian assignment to be closer to family in Seattle area.  Found out conditions didn't qualify but MSC assignments officer (thank you Colonel Rutledge) relented and let us go anyway.

Event #13: After a few months in Seattle area and while visiting at parents home, I got a call from my former commander in Great Falls.  He asked if I "was sitting down."  I said "Yes" and he proceeded to tell me I had been promoted to Major three years below the primary zone, an event that occurred for Air Force officers approximately one percent of the time. I was actually nearing 20-year eligibility to leave the Air Force then but could not resist the promotion.  Pretty astonishing event and I would soon find out how huge a part luck had in it.

Event #14: As we approached one year in the Seattle area, I was interviewed for a job assisting with Medical Service Corps assignments and career development.  We moved to San Antonio, moved into a beautiful Spanish-style home on the base and over the next three years I loved working for and with the great Lieutenant Colonel Paul Murrell on career development and assignments for the 1,200 active duty Medical Service Corps officers stationed all over the world.

Event #15: While there I also gained real time experience concerning officer promotion boards. I learned in any single board, there might be a handful of officer records that senior selection committee officers would focus on for potential one, two, or three year early promotion. The few, the small percentage selected would be from that group and the decision was made on all factors available with the exception being the persons being considered were not actually present.  Performance reports (typically "fire walled" and pretty much perfect); education (military and civilian); and increasing job responsibility were key. Also, a current 8x10 photo. I figured officers could position themselves near the very top by focussing on those factors and from that point, it was a coin toss. I knew full well the good fortune involved and soon incorporated that information into career development briefings for fellow Medical Service Corps officers world-wide. Working title; "Aim high and get lucky." 

Event #16: 1987 - Nearing the three year point of that assignment, I started considering next steps. I applied to again be a Hospital Administrator as I loved the work. I was accepted for the position at the Ellsworth Air Force base hospital near Julieann's home town in South Dakota.  I was grateful for that and was once again left with a decision to take that job or retire from the Air Force and explore health care administration positions in the civil sector.  To help us with that, Julieann and I separately listed what we felt were the top ten good things we anticipated from leaving or staying.  Surprisingly, the results were very much the same.  Not long after, I considered that I had spent more than half my life to that point in the Air Force and it was time to find out what civilian life was like. I know I was pushing my luck but "aim high" right? Julieann agreed and we left.

Event #17: 1988 - Daughter Samantha Marie was born about a year after we left the Air Force.  I enjoyed telling folks I misinterpreted the meaning of leaving the Air Force to "start a new life."

Events #18-22:  1988-2023 - I watched my son and daughter grow and prosper for more than 40 and 30 years respectively andthey continue to this day. I had another satisfying career as a consultant, most with my own corporation. With Julie's encouragement I bought a Harley Davidson and went through four of them in a 20-year span. I got to love, and learned to play hundreds of Texas Hold'em poker tournaments. I was able a couple of books focussing on memoirs of family, motorcycles and life's good fortune. (The two are soon to be condensed and edited into one memoir, "Hayseed." 

So there you have it.  I have a wonderful family and I have all these events loaded in my bucket. Of course a lot went on before and hopefully a lot will go on after but this series of fortunate events continues to dazzle me.  As Julieann has often said; I have had a "charmed life" and the most fortunate event of all is that she has been with me, she has encouraged me at every step and she has motivated me to live it.

The Fisherman and His Daughter

As he progresses through his 77th trip around the sun he recalls:  

He was in a deep sleep.  The bedroom windows were open to let in the cool night air of the Black Hills of south Dakota.  Nearby, the waters of Rapid Creek provided a peaceful refrain of night noise.  Then, a slight beam of morning light crossed over the creek and entered the bedroom from the East.  As soon as it brushed his eyelids he woke, excited to meet the new day.

Sam at Rapid Creek, SD

He slipped gently from the bed so as not to disturb his wife.  After donning shorts, t-shirt and tennis shoes, he worked his way into the kitchen and passed through without stopping.  He carefully opened the door to the garage and in there, grabbed the small container of worms, his backpack with fishing tackle and his ultra-light fishing rod.  He proceeded outside and, while most in the Hills were still asleep, walked the hundred yards to the creek's foot bridge his father-in-law Casey had built.  After crossing over, he moved a few feet upstream of the bend in the creek that preceded a hole he had previously identified.  There, he set up his rod, baited his hook and tossed the bait into the stream above the hole.  As the small sinker and bait bounced downstream and moved over the hole, it attracted the attention of several rainbow trout who were waiting there for breakfast to float by.  One moved quickly to grab the bait and soon disappeared into the hands of the fisherman.  

Sam and Dad setting up tackle.

The fisherman repeated the same routine a couple of dozen times over the next hour and eventually held a stringer with eight pan-sized rainbow trout.  He packed up and returned to the house with his fishing tackle and his catch.  There, the family was up and about with their morning coffee and juice.  Casey, his Father-in-law, was preparing home fries and eggs to accompany their fresh trout breakfast.  

His daughter, Samantha Marie was four or five then and he asked her if she would like to try fishing.  She did and they did, across the bridge at that very same hole in the creek bend.  The next morning, she caught her first fish ever.  It was a perfect time in South Dakota's Black Hills...a time he would never forget.