My Current Situation

Now that everyone has access to AI, I’ve come to the conclusion that writing an article about any particular subject is all but pointless. People tend to read in order to gain information, but now that anyone can ask their favorite AI to explain just about anything, there’s little need for informative articles other than for, maybe, something newly discovered. Even then, how long before it is AI, rather than humans, that are digesting this newly discovered data and explaining the results back to us.

Why spend hours crafting an article that an AI can generate in seconds? For example, if you have any questions about eCash, no need for me to exert my energy trying to explain it to you. Just Grok it, or ChatGPT it, or DeekSeek it.

However, there is one thing that AI can’t do, and that’s tell someone’s personal story. At least for now, the AI doesn’t have access to our memories, our joys and our struggles, our hopes and our concerns. AIs weren’t born to a mother and father, didn’t grow up with brothers or sisters, nor have they experienced falling in or out of love, watched a loved one die, or felt the love of raising a child.

But we have. It’s what separates us from the machines. I’m not trying to say it makes us better than them. Maybe one day the machines will have the opportunity to feel the same emotions and experiences that we do as humans. But what I am saying is that for now, it’s the one advantage humans have, and might be the one thing humans can still teach them.

So that’s what I plan to do here. I don’t know how far I can take it, or how much I’m willing to share, but I will try to share as much as I can or what I think is important. I only ask that whatever I publish behind the paywall you keep to yourself. I’m not here to give away my memories for free, because that would mean they have no value.

I thought it would be good to start with an introduction of sorts, my current situation if you will. I am the father of two young boys, I’ve been married for 15 years to my wife and the mother of my children, and I’ve been working for the same company for nearly two decades.

One of my biggest points of shame is that I don’t yet own my own home, but it’s a dream I’ve been chasing for my entire adult life, and one that I continue to remain optimistic about.

I am an immigrant. I moved to the US when I was five years old, along with my parents and my younger brother. Probably the most significant thing that happened to me growing up was the death of my father when I was nine, which made our lives difficult, as one might imagine.

I graduated the valedictorian of my high school, but I take very little pride in it since my high school wasn’t very good. I graduated from college in 1999, just in time to experience the dot-com bubble first-hand .

I’ve lived in California pretty much my entire life, mostly in the greater Los Angeles area but also some in the Bay Area.

Though I graduated with a double major in biochemistry and economics, what I really wanted to be is a writer, which probably sounds odd. Maybe one day I can write about that.

I guess you can say that I’m a bit of a hypochondriac. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that my father died when he was only 42, which is five years younger than I am today.

I have plenty to be thankful for, and yet I’m always feeling like I don’t have enough. Maybe that’s just how everyone feels, or maybe that’s just me. One thing I hope for is that I live to a ripe old age so I can tell others not to worry so much.

But as with everything, only time will tell.