Tuesday, November 10, 2026

VETERANS' DAY 2026 - ARNIE NAKKERUD, YOU ARE NOT FORGOTTEN - VIETNAM MOVIE


Arnie and I roomed at Ft. Rucker during our last months of training in the Army's Helicopter flight training program. I have told many stories of him in the past years here on Veterans' Day. 

In late October 1966, we were declared “Officers & Gentlemen.” High-ranking officers put wings on our chests and orders in our hands. Most all read “Vietnam.” Arnie and I shook hands, went home on leave and then to ‘Nam.

Later that year, I received a letter from my folks telling me they had been contacted by a member of his family that he had died flying on a combat mission.

It has been over 60 years, my friend, since those crazy days in flight school and your passing while flying Army helicopters in Vietnam. I think of you often. The memories are as fresh today, Arnie. God Bless.

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Crew chiefs, door-gunners and pilots. I remember the faces of the "boys" in this photo but cannot remember all of their names.  

 

This photo was taken on "The Golf Course" flight line in An Khe South Vietnam in 1967. The Lt. on the left and I (giving the peace sign) lost the tail rotor that night just as we lifted off to fly perimeter patrol. Those of us who are left are all old men now and members of the old guard.

With honor to all who served on this Veterans' Day.

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VIETNAM MOVIE. 2/20TH ARA. 1ST AIR CAV. - 1967 

Photos taken and compiled in 1967 serving with The 2nd of The 20th, ARA, 1st Air Cav. We flew out of An Khe, Bong Son, The An Lao Valley and Phan Thiet. Lyrics and music by Joe Galloway "God's Own Lunatics" from "The Shadow of The Blade" 


 Thank you for the visit this week.

 


 



 

Tuesday, November 3, 2026

DORA'S KITCHEN(2) - IT IS ELECTION DAY 2026 - SOME SARAH HOYT - JIBBER JABBER


This is a good example of mom quickly throwing parts and pieces of a soup recipe on a card and then using years of cooking experience to create the soup.  

  


    

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We voted early and learned that the numbers who have voted early, were well above levels in past elections. Given the onslaught of fear porn in every corner, I take some solace in the fact more folks were getting out and voting.

It has been years since the bride and I have had any TV on during the day for back ground noise. I do not miss the talking heads today with their "expert" opinions regarding voting trends and winners and losers. 

I do though have some gut level feelings that things are heading to worse before they get better. And get better to what? So, we will continue to shore up the needs of old folks living in cow country as a precaution.

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One of the blogs I read daily is Sarah Hoyt. She uses a lot of words to get an idea across and most often I skim. She has introduced me to some AI music that I do enjoy. Interesting to me now is that music produced by AI is more enjoyable to me than what youngsters are listening to these days.  But that is not abnormal me thinks. Regardless, I read/skim her daily and enjoy the posts that draw me in and cause me to think. 

So, a little Sarah Hoyt here.

YOUR CLOTHES AND WEAPONS 

TIME FOR THE STARS   (an intro to Astra Blue AI)

EUROPE FORMED A COMMITTEE   (Astra Blue AI on YouTube) 

KILL SWITCH  (Astra Blue AI) 

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RONJA VIND   Another AI generated music artist.

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JIBBER JABBER

Rain this morning but only just enough to dampen the ground somewhat. A tease at best but we will take any and all rain mother nature sends our way. 

I am guessing that in the remaining days of this week, media fear porn will be on high and how, what and where "it" may raise its ugly head is a crap shoot. There seems to be some consensus, amongst folks who call us and others with whom we visit, that if the elections go badly, we will have two years left for final prepping.

A pot of rice on the stove now, finishing up a quick pot of chicken soup for lunch today made from stores on the shelves and fridge leftovers.  Mom's beef barley soup later this week. 

Two doctor appointments, (minor stuff) and a shopping stop at a big store for Christmas chocolate chip cookie dough and a $5 rotisserie chicken, at weeks end.

I appreciate your visit. 

Mom and her sister plucking chickens on the farm in the late 1940's or early 1950's. Everyone worked and pitched in to put food on the table. 
 

 

Friday, October 23, 2026

DEER FAMILY FEEDING - FIRST FIRE - VINTAGE CARVING KNIFE SET - DORA'S KITCHEN AND RECIPES (1) - JIBBER JABBER

 

Early morning mist and a family of 9 deer grazing on new grass. There are 9 but somehow one has escaped this photo. Noticeably cooler now, long pants, sweat shirts and warm socks and shoes. Fingers remembering the cold and the time back in a warm house before all the cold numbness goes away. No complaints though as the heat from this past summer still in the memory banks. Cats are eating often and starting to put on weight. Blankets have been added to their "cat houses" and they are back to snuggling for naps and night-time sleeping.

Dusted the burning ring orifices in the propane fire place this morning using a small air compressor and then fired it up for the first time. We will soon be using this daily now to take the morning chill out of the house and warming when temperatures start to become winter-like. The bride tells me to keep it on for awhile as it is noticeably cooler in the front room. Talk of some homemade soup for dinner.

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Vintage meat carving/serving fork, knife and sharpening stone.

These three kitchen tools were used by my grandparents on the mother's side and then at home by my mother and father since the 1940's. We found them cleaning out a few of the kitchen drawers and my plan is to clean and sharpen. Seems fitting they should be used this coming Thanksgiving on the turkey, on the Christmas prime rib and ham. The carving knife is noticeably thin and I am hoping I can bring back a good edge on it. 

I still have vivid memories of these kitchen tools in the hands of my mother and father slicing and delivering good eats to the dinner tables. You will see these again here over the holidays.

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DORA'S KITCHEN (1)

Considering a new weekly blog entry called "Dora's Kitchen."

Several hundred recipes stored at random in a large shoe box to choose from along with old cook books also filled with handwritten recipes. These are in her own hand writing from the 1940s forward. Some from the "Old Country" of her parents (Russian immigrants) and my father's parents (Oslo Norway immigrants).

Fati' Man (pronounced) from Fattigmann (poor man's cookies), the Norwegian spelling and cookie recipe.  FATTIGMANN can be googled for recipes, but this one below is handed down from my father's mother to my mother and now to me. I believe this recipe was brought from Norway when they immigrated. My mother adapted the basic recipe to her and dad. I bet it was my father that doubled the amount of whiskey called for in the original recipe. 

I have vowed for years and years to make these Christmas cookies and finally, with my wife's help we will soon test this recipe along with applying memories of my parents making these. It was a team effort by my mother and father and instructions to me then were to stay out of the way.  

There are two reasons why I/we am/are going to put in the time to try making these cookies. First is to keep some family history alive and share it. Second is for that finished cookie flavor. These cookies never ever lasted more than two days between my mother, father and me eating them. No matter how big a batch. There was never any left over to share with anyone else. They were seasonal Norwegian Christmas cookies and an integral part of the Christmas spirit in our home. 

Making these cookies is no small undertaking. After quick frying these cookies in a cast iron skillet, they were set out to dry on paper towels and the lightest coating of powdered sugar spread over the tops. Mom also rolled the dough out thinner than those I have seen on the net. 

I will elaborate more on this recipe during our first attempt making these cookies in the weeks ahead. 

 

JIBBER JABBER

What to believe anymore is getting more difficult for me. Europe is burning. I have no clue as to what the truth is about the oil crisis, but dribbling gas into the Ford truck is a couple weeks of groceries for us.  We are going to vote this morning and I am numb yet hopeful.

Google says that AI is not sentient.  If I was a betting man, I would hold off on betting that it still is not. If you are looking for an hours entertainment that opens some doors to all of this via a television program, check out episode 2 of CUPERTINO now streaming on Paramount +. Take the time to watch that episode.

First world problems still come to visit here at night in the form of armadillos and every morning the build-up of pine needles poke harder at my chest.

The sun is up, the family of deer are out feeding across the road and yard work beckons in all quadrants. Three things I understand!

Appreciate the visit this week.  

 

 


 








 

 

Monday, October 12, 2026

WHINGING - "The Night The Lights Went Out in Georgia" - SETTING A TRAP - NACHOS FOR LUNCH - CROSS-WIND LANDING MISHAP - JIBBER JABBER

 

WHINGING

 “Relentless verbal grumbling --- the exaggerated, high-pitched nasal sound – A continuous stream of dissatisfaction --” (From Google)

Yep, that is what I mean when I use that word. I may like using the word when regarding others but I do not like the word when and if it is applied to me. I prefer the softer words like complaining or grumbling. Whinging brings with it body language, a negative aura, habitual behavior; “a (withheld) do something about it response.” Hanging whinging on someone else is also judgmental and not a good look.

When I step back and give this some thought, I find that I now may refrain from the quick use of that word in discussions of expressing one's opinion or situation. I do not want to observe myself whinging so maybe I best not be quick to toss in “whinging” just because I like the word. I am going to be softer henceforth but cannot promise that it may not surface when I am annoyed beyond self-control.

What prompts this is my discussion two posts back regarding not wanting to cook a meal being a thing folks may “complain” about more often than not. I have been fortunate enough in this lifetime to have grown up in and always being included in good food prepared by competent cooks who enjoy the job.

I enjoy cooking and still rely much on those who have taught me and at whose table I have enjoyed many a good meal. Much in the daily living of my years and memories revolves around a good meal and conversations. From a beer and pizza downtown to the large family traditional seasonal meals to daily family breakfasts, lunches and dinners.

Someone in these past years has always provided good eats accompanied by the wellness of a “homey” feeling. The smell of bread baking, a pot of soup or stew simmering in the kitchen, or fresh-baked cookies, pies and cakes that write the last paragraph of a day. And this was never ever measured by money but rather by talent, skill sets and the open desire of a person who enjoys folks around his or her table.

This person is still standing when all others are sitting at the table. This person hovers for a few minutes longer, pacing around the table, taking measure that no one is wanting. Then and only then will that person sit down and still spend most of her/his time insuring the wellness of all who sit through the meal. It is an art form and may go unnoticed by the passerby.

Walk into this person's home anytime of the day and there is always offered up a cup of coffee, a cup of tea, good conversation, laughing, teasing and a slice of something home made. 

These days, one of my sisters-in-law comes to mind. I so enjoy walking into her home kitchen to always find her in the doing of several things at once all the while visiting with darn near everyone in the kitchen. Steam off pots on the stove, some stirring or pushing of buttons on an oven or quick-heating device. She may seem distracted but she is not. I find a chair “with my name on it” and sit like I might at an event. She is art form in motion and has perfected her time moving about the kitchen. I so love to tease her but have learned that she takes deeply to heart teasing (that is just that) regarding the meal she is preparing. The dishes she presents and the table set as finished are worth the trip to the big city. When she finally sits down to join all of us, it is a grand moment in my book.

Quite often now and over this past year, lunch and dinnertime here may come and neither the bride nor I have anything prepared for our table. We both are given to honesty in not wanting to cook and have not or did not. And she will also offer up a no desire clause for any post meal clean-up.

Every time, within all of this, we seem to find something from the shelves and drawers in the refrigerator. A baloney wrap, peanut butter on toast, remains of a green salad or chips and dip. Mixing up a “bag o'tuna” in oil with some mayonnaise is not cooking. A bowl of corn flakes can be gourmet eating with little to no effort. The point here is more often than not, the not-planned meal can be quite satisfying.

APPLE CAKE

A few slices of gifted apple cake last week prompted us (her) into wanting to try her hand a making an apple cake from scratch. To the King Arthur Baking cook book for ideas and within a few minutes, she had a recipe and a plan. Apple cake was in our future and I was supportive!

King Arthur Flour cook book is a gold standard in my opinion when it comes to baking. I took a bread-making class there years ago. I brought home a wonderful loaf of homemade bread and homemade noodles. I came away with a better understanding of some dos and don'ts when baking bread. But I have yet to achieve a consistency and repeatable success. Good baking still withholds secrets from me and my impatience is never helpful.

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The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia.  Background story; Vicki Lawrence

The song 1973; Vicki Lawrence 

I came across this a few days ago and realized that has been decades since I have heard this song. Also I did not know the background to the writing of the song and Vicki Lawrence singing it. I wonder how many of you visiting here today have even heard the song, let alone the story. It has been well over 50 years. 

I always have liked songs and music like this that tell a story.

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SETTING TRAP

Armadillo activity out back last night and in the process of setting up one of the traps now. We'll see! 


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NACHOS FOR LUNCH


 Son sent this a few days ago. I could have helped make short work of that lunch!!

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CROSS-WIND LANDING GONE WRONG from the looks of it. 


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COBRA BACK SEAT INSTRUMENT PANEL RVN 1969


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JIBBER JABBER

Memory Lane. I found myself going through old photo graphs and memories last week. With each of the photographs I stopped on, copied and pasted into a folder on my desk top, were stories I would like to tell. But they would be like asking someone to sit and watch old home movies that really only have great memories of the person who lived the photos. Regardless, here are two of my favorites. 

My first car was a 1956 Chev with a 265 cu in engine and a three speed on the column. I started saving for this when I was 12 years old because that was the era of getting a drivers license, cruising and playing with cars. This photo was taken at my grandparents home/ranch in Raymond Washington. I can still conjure up the sounds and feelings of going through the gears and running down the road. It was and still is "cool" today. Ask any "old man" about his first car and he will sit and tell stories like they happened yesterday. Today, when I alone in my truck and running the highway, I turn up the oldies, sing along, feeling the freedom of the road. It is all still very very good.

MY SON'S FIRST CAR

Yep, he loved this truck and also has more stories to tell which most of them are not known by his father. That is just fine because he also got all of the experiences of learning mechanics of maintenance and the enjoyment of having his first car in high school. Today, he can fix anything mechanical. 

Thanks for the visit this week.
 

 

 

 

 

  

Sunday, October 4, 2026

WHAT'S FOR BREAKFAST - HOUSE COOKIES - WEATHER CHANGING - JIBBER JABBER

 You have seen this before. Just different day and time of year.

Homemade biscuits. I recently tried canned biscuits and never again. They look good on the can, in the oven and delivered to the plate. But they lack flavor and turn into a lump of wet dough in my mouth. No amount of butter and jam changes that.

HOUSE COOKIES

Our "propane guy" came to the house at the end of the work day last week to help with a fuel adjustment on the GENERAC generator. The generator is down and throwing codes. He helped me find the problem and a fix is on the horizon. "NO charge" for the service call he said because we buy our propane from his company. A very nice gesture given to us. But still saying thank you has long been ingrained in both my wife and me. 

The next day the bride was making thank-you cookies and they were delivered Friday morning. Folks always smile when homemade cookies come in the door. Always!

My share of the leftover dozens of cookies delivered. My wife called them "house cookies."

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JIBBER JABBER

The weather is changing. Noticeably cooler in the mornings and mid 80's in the afternoons.  Now is time of the season for the coming and going of thunderstorms . Over three inches of rain delivered over this past week.

Evenings entertainments

We are in the middle of "The Pendragon Cycle: Rise of the Merlin" now streaming on Prime Video. My wife is a big big fan of this era and myths. The filming and photography is outstanding of real places that exist today. These locations are brought to life in the telling of stories revolving around Arthurian Legend.

The locations/places mentioned in text on the screen are worthy of researching. It adds authenticity to the story line.  Example: Maridunum Wales

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Two Armadillo traps near completion today and hopefully these traps and/or my midnight trips outside to catch them in the act will eventually solve the problem. All I need to do is build the triggers and then rig the doors to hang open and drop when the trap is entered. One sheet of 3/4" plywood, two 1x6x8' pine boards, eye hooks and cord for rigging. About $30 each to build. I will share a photo of one trap rigged and set in next weeks post.

I am finding all of this exhausting though. Small animals like this and the havoc/ problems they can cause!! Not like there are not a dozen other outside projects calling me. 

Thanks for the visit this week

 

 

 

 
  

 

 

Sunday, September 20, 2026

GRASS ALWAYS GREENER....- "WHAT'S FOR DINNER?" - FLAT BREAD PIZZA - DEER FAMILY FEEDING - JIBBER JABBER

 

Greener Grass

I have found a now-preferred back road heading to nearby towns. It is a narrow country road, a lane and a half wide and I always pull over into the grass road side to let others pass. It is easier and much safer. It is scenic and peaceful driving through open cattle-grazing fields and ponds. Passing drivers always wave.

On my way to the gym last week, I came across a wonderful photo: cows proving the old adage that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.

I slowed down and watched the larger cow turn its head to squeeze between the barbed wire spaces on the fence being slow and deliberate. Once her head was through, she moved along the fence line enjoying the somewhat greener grass. That I was driving by was a no-never-mind until I stopped to take the photo. She hesitated and then continued to feed. 

Farmers tell me that the cows always push the limits of a fence line and thus the need to run fences often. It is not unusual to find an escaped cow cruising the outside of a fence line on a back road.

The young calf was also following its elders' lessons when I first came upon them. Seeing me slow down and stop, the calf pulled back and sat looking at me as though it had been caught and was guilty. I felt as though the calf was looking at me saying, “whaat?”

These times of any given day here are gifts. I never took the time to appreciate moments like this when I was younger. Always on the move with important things to get to and done. I would be looking down a road and ignoring the wonders of life living on the edge. These days, though, find me more often paying attention to life on the edges rather than the long view down the road. It is good!

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"WHAT'S FOR DINNER?" from Fairfield County Mom.

I came upon a story about three hated words, "what's for dinner." The article I initially found was behind a paywall, but I got the gist of this being a real "whinging" thing. Then I came across the article from Fairfield County Mom from three years ago. Low and behold, through all of the tears put out through various videos and other articles on the net, this gal gets it. She's right, it is never over. Well, maybe in the year 3535 when "everything you think do and say, is in the pill you took today." The question of what is for dinner has been around for eons.

The concept of feeding any family size seems common sense. Someone has to be in charge of the kitchen and the meals. That can be shared, but someone has to take ownership. Eating out these days is very expensive. Ordering out the same. Having someone else bring cooked food to your table doubles/triples the cost of the meals. The cost of getting a "to go" hamburger has now passed into being too expensive for some budgets. Those who have come to that road crossing and are now faced with cooking meals every day forever are experiencing a vertical learning curve. The good news is that the wheel for home-cooked meals does not have to be re-invented. 

Cooking every day can become cooking every other day if meals made are large enough for leftovers. The next day a "cooked meal" means a few minutes warming and serving. There are a million ideas available just for the looking and asking. The time and energy spent complaining could be best spent in learning to cook for the family. 

Old folk like me were raised to eat everything put on the table. "If someone has gone out of their way to cook for you, you  damn well better show appreciation and have some of everything served." Not an option. 

I balked at very few items placed on the farm and home dinner tables. Grandma's groceries were on the hoof and in the ground. Large meat bones boiling or baking in the oven. Greens and root vegetables pulled from the ground, rinsed and set in the sink awaiting their way to the table. When I balked at eating Rutabaga, mom taught me to mix the mashed serving with the mashed potatoes. Adding a little more butter, a little salt and within a few bites, the Rutabaga was easily consumed. My mother made sure that from the family farm table, I had a helping of everything grandmother had made. A small portion was fine, but never zero. 

To this day, the foods my grandmother and mother cooked are still baselines of most of what I enjoy cooking and eating. Leftovers are still a viable part of the meal-making process. 

If you enjoy eating, best to learn how to do some cooking.

My wife tells the story of her mother feeding a family of seven children. Every Sunday was fried chicken (5 whole chickens). Each chicken cut into 11 meat pieces, floured in a bag of flour and seasonings and deep fried in a skillet. Yes, every Sunday for years and years. Our elders can tell such stories. Just ask.

Along with those growing up years, I was taught that a cook must put more food on the table than will be eaten. The use of filler foods like bread, rice, pasta, baked beans, crackers. "No one should ever walk away from your table hungry." To this day, no one ever has!! 

Mom asked me many years ago if I remember all of their friends who use to stop by to visit them in the late 40's and early 50's. I told her I did. She told me the reason so many of their friends use to stop by was because they always knew they would get a meal at our house when they visited. 

Being hungry is something folks never ever forget and the concept of complaining who is cooking and what is placed on the table has never played in my life time.

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THAT BEING SAID

My 4th experiment with using flatbread for making pizza. Best flavor yet and good enough now to be added to meal options. It is as easy to make 4 of these at once as it is one. Not "spendy," a few moving parts and pieces and all from pulled from the fridge. I would feel confident placing a few of these on a family dinner table. It has been wife tested too.

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DEER FAMILY 

Early morning family of deer out feeding in the field across the road. The family is growing in size. 

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JIBBER JABBER

The temperatures are finally dropping and some rain storms are forecast for next week. The lower temperatures are very much appreciated as this has been a long long stretch of hot hot.

We just finished watching Doctor Doctor; The Heart Guy  

Five seasons free with Amazon Prime. Light-hearted, great photography, an ok story line, characters and some very good acting. 

LIONESSLIONESSLIONESS

Thank you Taylor Sheridan. Three seasons and the last minute of season 3 is classic Taylor Sheridan. Well done!!

Thanks for the visit this week. 

 

 

Sunday, September 13, 2026

HOUSEBOUND

 Drying shoes in 100 degree heat.

Some of the best writing I do is at 1AM in the morning. It comes in the form of being awake and running my mind at a high idle. I have had my prayer meeting with God and then I lay and mentally write.

I started writing years ago as a selfish means to purge the system. Clear clutter, one day at a time. And readers have been patient to listen and I appreciate that.

At 81.3 years of age, I want to write of the old man aging years. I want to talk of aches, pains and some worry of getting through decade 8. But I have never had patience for old men whinging and talking of such things. I get up and walk out of the room. A mature way of dealing with what I do not want to deal with nor listen to.

I expect you to also do that, should I go down these rabbit holes. But decade 8 is going to be my most challenging yet and I am concerned of the odds of reaching 90. I take solace in the fact though that the human mind, body and spirit are a wonderment and can conquer impossible tasks. Grandma lived to be a hundred and I do spend time now betting some on genetics.

Sleep usually comes by 2AM and I have mentally written great things and my mind has less to play with.

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This cow would have been swimming in early June of this year. 

I knew Texas was going to be hot when we moved here. I have been told many times that summer is always a long month. This year, ponds are damn near dry, grass crunches and walking outside after 11AM sucks life out of me x10. 

It is wearing on everyone and being housebound must be recognized and dealt with. What is not drying up outside is being sucked from beneath the dirt by armadillos in the front yard. I am often reminded that all the pine needles on the ground now are too, a norm. “Embrace the country” from deep rooted locals who mention any of this in passing.

Cats quit meowing late morning and find “that place” somewhere in the garage or patio that offers some relief. I found “my cat” sleeping in a covered garage overhang and snugged against the sheet metal wall. Of course she is smart, the A/C in the shop has been on since June and the sheet metal sheds a cool surface. I told her I was proud of her and she was a very smart cat.

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Another 1963 high school classmate has passed away. She had a wonderful write up in her obituary, pictures of her family, children and grandchildren. I fondly remember her and her husband sitting next to each other at his home one day in our senior year. A photograph I took, and cannot find.

They were both happy characters, whom I have always adored, both laughing out loud with hands raised in the air and happy beyond words. One of my last memories of those days with him was driving down I-5 in Seattle, both having had our eyes fully dilated as part of the physical exam to enter the Army Helicopter flight program. We were both laughing at not being able to clearly see the highway. We were 18 years old.

To her, God bless and to him, God bless. “Those were the days my friends, those were the days!”

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I have been finding and watching robots running races around tracks on YouTube. The only way they stop some of these robots at the end of the race is to run them into a padded wall. The robots break upon impact and quickly become parts and pieces on the ground. Some throw off sparks in the process. And I suppose I should ask the question, is this video AI? I do not think so as of this writing.

I am reminded of the days of early aviation where folks gathered at open fields to watch fledgling pilots and plane designers test their ideas. We are at that point of history again repeating itself in giant technological steps. Some of those old videos today are obvious to all of us that one of the designs being tested will never come to fruition. But we live in the future of those early designing and testing days. What will robots look and function like in the years ahead?

Given the speed with which change happens now, it will not be long before these running robots will have conquered the complexities of running races on tracks. YouTube videos of robots in future development may be a team of them competing to see which team can be the first to build a small house from start to finish or replicate a team member from start to finish. Our imagination is the limitation here.

I really do not know the depth of what changes are ahead of us coupling AI and robotics. Is it realistic to think that in our declining years a robot will be assigned to my wife and me as a caretaker?

HUMANS  An excellent series that is entertaining and worth a watch.

Thanks for the visit this week.