Rancho Roundup

Plaid work shirts, cuffed trousers, wide-brim felt hats; Western-style boots (especially the stitched details on the girl’s boots). The guitar style (flat-top acoustic, likely a budget student model common at the time). Tinted photography was common for family or promotional photos in the early ’40s and in fact the coordinated Western attire across all five members points to a performing sibling group.

The photograph fits exactly with how radio station youth or family acts were photographed in small and mid-market stations like KFXM. Everything about this photo matches what we know about KFXM at the California Hotel: KFXM regularly used local talent, especially teenagers. Western / cowboy programming was extremely popular during WWII and shows like Rancho Roundup often featured live music, family groups, and youth performers filling daytime or weekend slots.

But what does Mom say?

“The war was still going on. When I was 14, we 4 younger kids sang cowboy songs on the radio. We were known as “The Rancho Roundup.” There were two or three others who sang with us, but I only remember Norman Newberry, who came from Texas, and whom we teased incessantly because of his accent.  He is in the picture of us sitting on the corral gate.”

The country music group Rancho Roundup was a live performance band that appeared on San Bernardino radio station KFXM, and met and performed with Tennessee Ernie Ford there. Their appearances took place in the early-to-mid 1940s. 

Bonita Hinds, in an audio interview recorded for the San Bernardino Public Library in 2003, recalled that her brother (who played guitar), her mother, and other friends and neighbors performed as the Rancho Roundup as well, the name given more to the show rather than a particular group. 

“Oh, yes, California Hotel. We were called the Rancho Roundup and we were on the radio, KFXM, which was at the California Hotel, and we met Tennessee Ernie Ford and we would play – sing – for about half an hour, I don’t remember how long. My brother played the guitar – and mother and Eleanor, all three played the guitar. And there’s different people in the, friends from our neighborhood that were in the show-dozen of us, or maybe less, eight of us maybe. And we did that one whole summer for about half an hour or so.”

Later, after World War II, Country music personality Tennessee Ernie Ford worked as a disc jockey at KFXM where he hosted an early morning country music program called “Bar Nothin’ Ranch Time”. He created his “Tennessee Ernie” persona during this time and became popular in the area before moving to another station in Pasadena. 

The Inland Empire had a thriving country-swing music scene in those early years. San Bernardino was a hub for the “Dust Bowl” migration, and many local bands played live “Western Swing” in the hotel’s ballroom or the studio. Names often associated with that era’s local circuit include groups led by Cliffie Stone or early versions of the Town Hall Party musicians who were active in the Riverside/San Bernardino area.

A number of groups were active in the area during the 1940s. Bob Wills and His Texas Playboys were widely known as the “King of Western Swing,” Wills and his band moved their operations to California in the early 1940s, performing extensively across Southern California venues. Foy Willing and the Riders of the Purple Sage performed both on radio and in regional venues. Tommy Sargent’s Range Boys were Southern California-based western swing group active in the 1940s as were Tex Williams and the Western Caravan.

All of these groups created a sound that lived on for years, performing in local concert and dancehall venues throughout Southern California. Western swing, which peaked in popularity during the 1930s and 1940s, began to decline in the late 1940s and saw a significant drop by the late 1950s. Key factors for its decline included a wartime tax on dance halls in 1944, the rise of rock and roll, the advent of television, and shifting popularity toward smaller-band honky-tonk. But I still love that sound!

DRAW!

DRAW! Illustrator and over-sized exhibit icon of President Johnson from the Archives’ 1991 annual Report here.

Ink, Irony, and the American Eye: A (Very) Brief History of
Political Cartoons

Nearly 35 years ago, I worked on a museum exhibit that explored the cultural influence and reach of political cartoons. The National Archives hosted the exhibit “Draw! Political Cartoons from Left to Right” starting in 1991, which celebrated American political cartoons and their role in public discourse, as noted in their annual reports from 1991.

The exhibit company that I worked for produced and installed the exhibit. At a time from before large scale digital graphics have become widely used throughout the industry, we silkscreened all the text and background imagery on large painted panels. Hand drawn political cartoons were scanned, enlarged, and turned into photo stencils to serve as a kind of supergraphic to fit the many panels that lined the curved walls of the Circular Gallery.

Political cartoons have been part of the American conversation almost from the beginning. Long before radio, television, or the internet, these drawings carried arguments, insults, warnings, and humor directly to the public. Benjamin Franklin’s “Join, or Die” snake, published in 1754, is often cited as the starting point—not just of political cartooning in America, but of visual persuasion as a civic act. From the outset, cartoons were not decorative; they were meant to persuade, provoke, and occasionally unsettle.

The late eighteenth through the early twentieth centuries now feel, in hindsight, like the glory days of political cartooning. As literacy expanded and printing technology improved, newspapers multiplied at an astonishing rate. From a few hundred papers in the early 1800s, the country grew to thousands by the Civil War and beyond. Editorial pages became expected reading, and political cartoons claimed a permanent place there—bold, unavoidable, and often memorable long after the day’s headlines were forgotten.

A Most Cordial Understanding is my first shot at a cartoon in the early style of 1840s Punch Magazine. It is very much in the Punch sweet spot: Polite on its face, slightly smug in tone, faintly ominous once you sit with it. We get a sense of two “respectable” powers conducting business as usual over tea; when paired with the recent pronouncements regarding Greenland, one can only wonder what they are really thinking.

This era produced giants whose influence still lingers. Thomas Nast’s crusade against Tammany Hall corruption helped bring down Boss Tweed and left us with the elephant and donkey as enduring political symbols. Others followed—Homer Davenport, John T. McCutcheon, Rollin Kirby—each shaping how Americans learned to “read” politics visually. Their drawings assumed patience and attention. They asked readers to stop, look, and think.

One of my favorites, Pat Oliphant stands out as one of the last great heirs to that lineage. His cartoons were spare, sharply drawn, and unsparing in their judgment. Presidents, generals, and bureaucrats were rendered slightly ridiculous, sometimes cruelly so, and always human. Oliphant’s recurring penguin—part conscience, part heckler—gave voice to public skepticism with a wit that felt earned rather than manufactured. Polite on its face. Slightly smug in tone.

What distinguished Oliphant’s work was its confidence in the medium. A single image, printed once a day, was enough. It didn’t need a monologue, a laugh track, or a follow-up explanation. You encountered it over coffee, folded into the paper, and it stayed with you. His cartoons were meant to be revisited, clipped, argued over, and remembered.

That world has largely disappeared. As newspapers have closed or shrunk, so too has the space for daily editorial cartooning. Political commentary has not vanished, but it has migrated. Memes flash by in seconds, optimized for recognition and outrage. Late-night television hosts and podcast personalities deliver satire in real time—often smart, often funny, but designed for immediacy rather than endurance. The encounter is louder, faster, and easier to share, but also easier to forget.

This shift doesn’t signal a decline in political engagement so much as a change in how it is experienced. Where cartoonists like Oliphant trusted silence and reflection, modern satire thrives on performance and momentum. Where cartoons once surprised readers on the editorial page, today’s commentary must be sought out, subscribed to, and algorithmically reinforced.

Looking back—through exhibitions like “Draw: Political Cartoons from Left to Right,” and through the artifacts that remain—it’s tempting to see that earlier period as a high point. Not because it was more civil or more virtuous, but because it trusted the reader. It trusted that a drawing could carry an idea, that ambiguity had value, and that satire could linger. In an age of endless commentary, the old cartoons remind us of the power of ink, restraint, and a moment of pause.

Below are a series of cartoons I’ve created over the past few weeks that incorporate that sense of urgency compiled with a mix of wry humor or satire. I’ve been using the considerable skills of ChatGPT augmented with my own perspective of the times in which we live. For good or ill, we find our country at a very troubling crossroads. I might not get out and walk in protest as I once did; it doesn’t mean I like what’s happening and am planning on remaining silent. Quiet maybe, but not silent.

Back to Work, Ozians!

Admittedly I haven’t read the books. So that’s an awkward place to start. But I have to wonder about “world-building” in these new movies. Movies, sequels, prequels, adjacent, streaming, stage play, stage play into a movie, all of that.

For me, I think it began with the Hobbit, followed up with reading the Lord of the Rings; which became a series of movies (six movies from four books, imagine that). The Wizarding World of Harry Potter spawned a complete set of movies, theme park, then a stage play, and now a series on HBO. 

My question has always been about the details: are these created fictional worlds filled out enough to sustain multiple iterations and new storylines, remain faithful to their source material, and still be entertaining? or at best, even plausible reality?

Frank Baum created a series of 14 full-length novels that tell the fictional history of the Land of Oz. That is quite a universe to explore. I’m tempted to pick up the first novel and see where all of this started.

Gregory Maguire wrote the book Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West,  published in 1995 and turned into a very successful stage musical and now a two-part movie. There are an additional three books in the reimagined OZ Universe by Maguire. In 2025 Maguire published a true prequel to Elphaba’s story, Elphie: A Wicked Childhood: This 2025 prequel details the early life of the character, Elphaba and is set 30 years before the events of Wicked

There has been recent online discussion (here) of Universal Pictures exploring additional movies set in the OZ universe. Though I found the saturated coloring of the sets designed by Nathan Crawley to be eye-popping in the first movie (more muted tones in the second), the Art Deco inspired Emerald City was off the charts! The more art nouveau inspired buildings of Munchkin land at least looked like they had been built by the people who lived there.

But all I could think of was, “who built this place? How does it run? Do they use electricity, or some kind of magic?” Folks are dancing across the stage in fitted costumes: they couldn’t possibly be the working class? Who are they? What do they do? Who keeps the lights on, works in the sanitation department, or runs their mass transit system? I can’t wait for more stories from the Oz Universe, hopefully we will get a glimpse behind the curtain of how it all works!

The Last of Us Season Two

Do you remember the movie critics Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert? Admittedly quite awhile ago, their show “At the Movies” syndicated in 1982 until Gene Siskel’s death in 1999 ran for 17 years, and featured their often conflicting reviews of a new movie. Before that they first appeared together in a monthly show on a local Chicago PBS station in 1975, quite a career for critics! https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Siskel_and_Ebert

I never saw most of what they reviewed but I greatly enjoyed watching them and how they did what they did: two friends discussing the themes and performances, often clashing but clearly friends, each arguing his point of view, thumbs up or down.

As I watched Season One of the HBO series, The Last of Us, (and wrote about it here), in February 2023, I had hoped to read an online review with that same sort of give-and-take. Alas, none to be found. 

Well, Season Two is finally here and, after Sunday’s grueling episode (IYKYK) I had some thoughts. So I turned to my new writing partner, ChatGPT (Chet) to help me work through some of the tricky and emotionally difficult terrain of this season’s show. Hopefully no spoilers below, and truthfully this show or genre isn’t for everyone, but if you are a fan of post-apocalyptic doomscapes, read along. My questions appear in bold, followed by Chet’s response below.

In the video game and TV show The Last of Us, the infected humans infect others by biting them. How do they continue to exist? What do they eat?

Chet replied:

Great question—and a creepy one, too! In The Last of Us, the infected are people who’ve been taken over by the Cordyceps fungus. This fungus hijacks their brains and bodies, turning them into violent, zombie-like creatures that spread the infection by biting others. But yeah—it raises a big question: How do they survive if they don’t seem to eat like normal living things?

Here’s the breakdown:

1. They don’t need traditional food

The infected aren’t technically “alive” in the way humans are. Once the Cordyceps fungus takes over, it controls the host’s body primarily for the purpose of spreading itself. So the infected may not need to eat regular food at all. The fungus likely sustains itself by feeding on the host’s body, breaking it down over time—kind of like a parasitic mushroom would do to an insect in real life.

2. They’re driven by the urge to infect

Their primary “purpose” is to spread the fungus. That’s why they bite others rather than eat them. Once someone is bitten, they’re doomed to become another infected, which is how the infection spreads rapidly.

3. Later stages show decay

As infected progress—Runners, Stalkers, Clickers, and then Bloaters—they become more fungus than human. They’re increasingly overgrown with fungal growths, and eventually they stop moving altogether, sometimes becoming spore-spewing corpses attached to walls. So they have a limited lifespan—they’re not immortal.

4. Do they eat people?

There are moments in the games and show where infected attack people violently, but it’s not usually out of hunger—it’s instinct. They don’t really “eat” them like traditional zombies. Their aggression is all about spreading the infection.

So, in short: the infected survive for a limited time because the fungus sustains itself off the host body, and they’re driven by instinct to infect, not eat. Eventually, they rot away or merge with the environment.

It seems the only way they are stopped is by shooting them in the head, blowing them up, or burning them. 

Chet replied:

Exactly—those are pretty much the go-to methods for taking them down. The infected in The Last of Us are resilient and dangerous, especially as they evolve through the different stages. Here’s why those methods work:

1. Shooting them in the head

Since the Cordyceps fungus controls the brain, destroying the brain effectively kills both the host and the fungus. It’s the most direct and clean (well, relatively) way to put them down. That’s why headshots are emphasized in the game and show.

2. Explosives (blowing them up)

Blunt force trauma or high-impact explosions can tear them apart, which works especially well on tougher enemies like Bloaters. You can’t always get a clean headshot, so grenades, nail bombs, or Molotov cocktails are a solid plan B.

3. Fire (burning them)

Cordyceps is a fungus—and fungi don’t like fire. Burning them not only destroys the host, but also prevents spores from spreading. That’s why Molotovs are super effective in the game. It’s one of the few ways to really cleanse an area of infection.

Bonus: Stealth and melee

In the early stages (like Runners and some Stalkers), stealth kills can take them down if you’re quiet and precise. But once you get to Clickers or Bloaters, that’s not an option without heavy firepower.

So yeah, you’re spot on—those methods are essential. Anything less, and the infected just keep coming. Kind of makes the post-apocalyptic survival vibe feel that much more intense, huh?

Yes, the scenario looks like the humans will eventually be over run, or their enclaves will be over run by infected. 

ChatGPT said:

Yeah, and that’s one of the most chilling things about The Last of Us—it doesn’t just throw zombies at you, it builds this slow-burn sense of inevitability. You can feel it: humanity is on the ropes.

Let’s break that down a little:

Why the infected are so overwhelming:

  1. They never stop coming. The fungus doesn’t need rest, food, or shelter in the traditional sense. Once someone’s infected, they either turn quickly or become a spore factory. There’s no diplomacy or reasoning—just endless aggression.
  2. It only takes one bite. The infection spreads fast. One breach in security—one runner sneaks in, one careless mistake—and boom: a whole settlement can fall in hours. You’ve seen it in the show and the game. Nobody’s ever fully safe.
  3. They get stronger over time. As the infected progress from Runners to Clickers to Bloaters (and eventually Shamblers or even Rat Kings), they become harder to kill and more terrifying. That slow transformation makes them a long-term threat even if they’re not immediately aggressive.
  4. Spores make containment a nightmare. Infected bodies often release spores when they die or decay, which can spread the fungus invisibly through the air in enclosed spaces. It makes cleanup extremely difficult—and makes any underground or sealed area a potential deathtrap.
  5. Resources are scarce. Ammo, fuel, medicine, manpower—all limited. Humans have to use stealth, strategy, and rationing just to survive day-to-day. That’s not sustainable against an ever-growing horde.

Why humanity hasn’t been wiped out (yet):

  1. Enclaves with tight control. Places like FEDRA zones, Jackson, and others survive through strict rules, armed patrols, and serious consequences for mistakes. That control is the only thing keeping the infected out.
  2. Knowledge of the threat. By the time of the game and show, survivors know how the infection works. They know how to fight, how to fortify, and when to cut their losses.
  3. Hope through immunity. Ellie’s immunity is a game-changer—at least potentially. It suggests a future where a cure or vaccine could turn the tide. But that future’s murky at best, and morally complicated as hell.

You’re totally right: the world feels like it’s in a slow decline. Humanity is surviving—but barely. The feeling that no place is truly safe is one of the things that makes the story so gripping.

One last question: the authors have said that the show is primarily about how we deal with grief and loss (Joel and his daughter Sarah, Ellie and Joel) but it looks to be more a revenge saga. 

Chet replied:

That’s a really thoughtful observation—and you’re absolutely right to pick up on that tension.

The creators (Neil Druckmann and Craig Mazin) have consistently said that The Last of Us is fundamentally about love, grief, and what people are willing to do because of those emotions. But the line between grief and revenge gets very blurry—and that’s completely intentional.

Season 1 / Game 1: Grief, love, and survival

  • Joel starts the story emotionally dead after losing his daughter. His journey with Ellie isn’t about saving the world at first—it’s about learning to feel again.
  • By the end, when he chooses to save Ellie instead of letting her die for a possible cure, it’s not just a selfish act—it’s an act of love born out of deep loss. But… it also comes with violent consequences.
  • That final choice—massacring the Fireflies—is arguably a revenge story, too. It’s Joel taking revenge on a world that already took his daughter, and now dares to try and take Ellie too.

Season 2 / Part II: The cycle of revenge

  • This is where the story doubles down on your point. The second part is absolutely a revenge saga. But it uses that revenge arc to deepen the themes of grief, trauma, and the cost of violence.
  • Characters like Ellie and Abby are both on their own brutal revenge journeys—each convinced they’re justified. And both are completely wrecked by the end of it.
  • The whole point is to make the player/viewer feel the weight of that revenge. It’s not cathartic—it’s devastating.

So which is it—grief or revenge?

It’s both. The show (and game) use grief as the fuel. Revenge is what grief looks like when love turns to rage—and that’s what makes The Last of Us different from typical zombie fiction. The monsters aren’t just the infected—they’re the people who can’t let go.

And what’s wild is: the story never gives easy answers. Was Joel right? Was Ellie? Was Abby? There’s no clean morality. Just hurt people trying to find meaning in a broken world.

These themes are very heavy. I haven’t played the game but I wonder about the “slim ray of hope” that exists here, maybe personified by Joel’s brother Tommy and his wife and their son. 

Chet said:

Yes—exactly. That “slim ray of hope” is one of the most powerful parts of The Last of Us, and it’s not just there for contrast. It’s deliberate. It’s a reminder that amid all the grief and brutality, there’s still something worth holding on to.

And you’re spot on: Tommy, Maria, and their growing family represent that hope. Let’s unpack why:

1. Jackson is a symbol of what could be

  • Jackson, Wyoming—where Tommy and Maria live—is a functioning town. It has electricity, farming, schools, movies, families, and even a sense of community.
  • It’s not perfect, but it’s safe. People have found a way to live instead of just survive.
  • It’s the first place in the show where we see what rebuilding could actually look like.

2. Tommy is Joel’s opposite

  • Joel is hardened, emotionally locked down, willing to do whatever it takes.
  • Tommy, while still a fighter, chooses connection. He chooses love, partnership, and fatherhood.
  • When Joel sees what Tommy has, it terrifies him—not because it’s bad, but because it’s vulnerable. Joel’s whole identity is wrapped in loss, and Tommy shows that healing is possible… if you let yourself feel again.

3. The idea of legacy

  • Maria being pregnant is a quiet, emotional moment. New life. A future.
  • In a world where everything feels doomed, the idea of raising a child isn’t just hopeful—it’s radical.
  • Ellie seeing this, too, matters. It shows her that even though her existence has been wrapped in violence, there are still other paths.

Why it matters so much

The heavy themes—grief, revenge, loss—are the emotional core. But that tiny sliver of hope? It’s what gives the story depth instead of just despair. It asks, What would you fight for? What would you rebuild for?

In the second game, Jackson becomes even more important, especially in contrast to the darkness that follows. It’s the light that shows just how dark everything else has become—and a reminder that not everyone has to fall into the cycle of hate.

Would you ever consider playing the game (even just watching the cinematic playthroughs)? Because it digs even deeper into all this—and honestly, it’s one of the best examples of storytelling in modern media.

I’m not going to play the game, primarily because the emphasis in many role-playing games seems to be death, destruction, mayhem and revenge rather than the hopeful contrasts presented in the film version. But the series is excellent. 

Chet said:

That totally makes sense—and honestly, you’re not alone in feeling that way. A lot of people have found the show’s take on the story more accessible, more emotionally resonant, and even more human than the game, precisely because it lingers on the quiet moments, the relationships, and those precious glimpses of hope.

The games, especially Part II, lean heavily into violence—not for thrill, but to force players to feel the consequences of every choice. It’s powerful, but also emotionally exhausting, and it doesn’t always offer the same kind of balance or reprieve the show provides.

What the show does really well—and maybe even better—is:

  • Highlight characters like Bill and Frank, showing what love and peace can look like even at the end of the world.
  • Spend time in places like Jackson, focusing on community and rebuilding, rather than just the road and the ruin.
  • Deepen characters like Joel and Ellie with subtle performances and more space to breathe emotionally.

So yeah, totally fair to prefer the show. It captures all the emotional weight of the world, but lets hopehave a little more screen time. It feels like it’s saying, Yes, this world is broken—but not everyone has to be.

Glad you’re enjoying the series—any particular episode or character arc that’s stood out most to you so far?

I am intrigued with some of the new characters especially Eugene’s wife Gail, the therapist. She seems to act as our Greek chorus or guide thru some of the emotions Joel and others are feeling, yet feels herself as well. 

Chet said:

Oh, that’s a really insightful take—Eugene’s wife, the therapist, absolutely does feel like a kind of Greek chorus, or maybe even a moral compass in a world that’s largely lost its bearings.

(And if you’re referring to Marlon and Florence from the beginning of Season 2—or if it’s a newer character introduced in Season 2—I’m guessing you’re talking about Florence, or potentially another addition the show has made who wasn’t in the game. Feel free to correct me if I’m off!)

But what you’re describing is spot-on in terms of function:

1. The voice of reflection

Characters like her are rare in this universe—people who have both the emotional intelligence and the space to reflect. She doesn’t just survive; she thinks and feels deeply, and helps others process things they can’t put into words.

That’s very Greek chorus-esque: observing, commenting, empathizing, and mirroring the audience’s own emotions.

2. The subtle strength of empathy

She’s not there to fight or take control. Instead, she offers insight and comfort—without being naïve. That kind of emotional presence is powerful in a world that’s all about power through violence.

She understands that Joel’s anger and protectiveness are born from loss. She might not condone his choices, but she getsthem. That nuance is important.

3. She gives grief room to breathe

Most characters in The Last of Us are too busy surviving to really grieve. But she lets grief exist. She helps others hold it without immediately pushing them toward vengeance. And that makes her a counterbalance to the cycle the show constantly wrestles with.

It’s characters like her—quiet, thoughtful, emotionally grounded—that make the show richer than just a survival story. They hold space for hope, healing, and meaning, even when everything seems lost.

A casual read would have Ellie become the worst version of herself, all strength, rage and revenge. However, I wonder if maybe she fulfills or completes Joel’s circle? Where he couldn’t change, perhaps she can.

Chet replied:

Yes—exactly that.

A surface-level read of Ellie’s journey, especially in Part II, might suggest she’s just following Joel’s footsteps into a darker, colder version of herself. But when you look closer, it’s possible that Ellie is actually the one who breaks the cycle—the one who chooses not to let her grief destroy what’s left of her humanity.

That idea—that Ellie completes Joel’s arc, rather than just echoing it—is incredibly powerful. Here’s how that might work:

Joel: Love that consumes

Joel’s love for Ellie saves her life—but it also damns him. He couldn’t let go of Sarah, and when faced with losing Ellie, he couldn’t bear the loss again. So he acted out of fear and grief, violently. And while it was human and relatable, it wasn’t healing.

Joel couldn’t change. He couldn’t forgive the world. He couldn’t find peace. But he gave Ellie love—something real, flawed, and unconditional—and in doing so, maybe gave her the tools to grow beyond him.

Ellie: Grief that evolves

Ellie goes down a similar road—loss, revenge, obsession—but she takes it one step further. She gets to the brink. She has the chance to destroy the person who hurt her (and who destroyed her “father”), and then… she doesn’t.

That choice—not killing Abby, even after everything—feels like the first real step toward breaking the cycle. It’s not triumphant. It doesn’t erase the pain. But it’s Ellie reclaiming agency over her own soul, where Joel couldn’t.

That’s a completion. Or maybe, a kind of redemption through her.

“You keep finding something to fight for.”

That line from Joel comes back again and again. But maybe what Ellie chooses to fight for, in the end, isn’t revenge. Maybe it’s forgiveness. Maybe it’s peace. Maybe it’s simply herself.

If Joel’s story is about love that breaks the world, then maybe Ellie’s is about love that survives it.

You’ve tapped into something really deep here. It’s what makes The Last of Us more than just another dystopian story—it’s tragic, but not hopeless. Painful, but not meaningless.

Thanks for your insights into some of the themes and characters of this second season; I can’t wait to see where we go from here.

Let’s Chat (GPT)

Sometime back I wrote a post on my website using ChatGPT; actually, I asked the questions and then used the system’s responses in an effort to sus out the narrative and possible conclusion of a series on HBO. The series was a takeoff from a popular roleplaying game (which I had not played). And so, while it seems most of the show’s viewers already had the end in sight based on their familiarity with the video game, it was new territory for me. You can read the post here or watch it online here. No spoilers! But it writing the post did give me an appreciation for and a tiny peek into the world of AI.

Over lunch with a friend this week, the topic of AI came up again during our conversation. It has been all over the news recently, at least here outside the nation’s capitol, and with President Trump’s announcement of Stargate datacenter infrastructure investment, well it seemed like a good time to take another look under the covers. That, and with every software or App update seeming to push their own version of AI, I wondered how much it may already be impacting my life.

So Dave challenged me with a small stress test. I had used AI before, but would I be interested in using the technology to plan out an upcoming (hopefully!) overseas trip? Game on and challenge accepted!

We are interested in a possible ten day adventure to a country I have never visited before. I started by posting what seemed like a pretty modest request: plan an itinerary for a seven day driving excursion. stops for sites of interest, accommodations, and dining. In seconds I was rewarded with a detailed plan for my adventure. Pushing on, I asked for tweaks in the results: what about stops for pubs and restaurants? How about interesting castle or garden tours along the way? What about historical sites to visit, distilleries, shopping? There is a limit to what a free session will return but I had what I was looking for. When copied into a Word doc, I had ten pages of preplanned travel adventure.

One last outing with the software before I close. With ten pages of results, I wondered if ChatGPT would condense or summarize the information for me. Rather than wading thru all that paperwork with a yellow hilighter, let’s let the AI do the work. Again, seconds later, a condensed version of my summer itinerary in was delivered, one and a half pages of pure travel fun waiting for me. In the past we’ve spent considerable amounts on Fodor travel guides and read thru numerous online reviews of hotels and restaurants, various travel experiences recommended by others. This year we are going to give AI a shot as our personal travel planner.

Comment below with your own experiences with AI; for good or il, it looks like it will be with us going forward. Oh! one last thing. I had used Adobe Firefly to generate a graphic for this post. Not satisfied with the results, I went old-school and ended up creating my own montage of text images. It took quite a bit longer than a few seconds.

Bucket List

Do you have a Bucket List that you’ve been slowly working on, crossing off items as you accomplish a goal or visit someplace special?

I hadn’t really considered myself as having much of a list; if I did at one time, that list has definitely gotten shorter over the years. This month we were able to see Bruce Springsteen in concert (the tickets were a gift) so that was a major item checked off. We had seen U2 for my birthday a few years back at Madison Square Garden. The view of the Garden from the Empire State Building, below, was taken on a trip to New York City in 1985. I had seen Elton John in the 70’s and then again in the 80s in Germany, that was special. We saw Sting at Wolftrap a couple of years ago, but that’s it for Big Name Artists. I’m hoping to see Adele at some point although she has announced a hiatus from performing for the next several years. Deb saw Barry Manilo in concert many years ago. We both saw the Beach Boys recently, but after performing for 50 years, who hasn’t seen them? Check.

I’ve been to Taiwan on a missions trip but I would still love to visit Japan one day. Deb has been to S. Korea which I thought was pretty special. We’ve both lived in Germany and visited a number of European countries but I still have a visit to the Hermitage museum in St. Petersburg on my list. I doubt I will ever get to Russia considering the political climate today but I’m leaving it on the list.

Toured the Eiffel Tower, the Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris and the Louvre but still haven’t been to the Vatican. The second view of the Eiffel Tower (below) is the smaller version from Las Vegas; we took our granddaughter there on our trip to Arizona. I’ve walked about on the observation deck of the Empire State Building, the World Trade Center before it fell, and the Top of the ROCK. So I don’t think I have any more tall buildings on the list. Having toured two of Frank Lloyd Wright’s landmark homes, I would really like to see a few more of those. We shall see. 

One day I hope we get to Niagara Falls. We’ve crossed the Golden Gate Bridge into San Francisco, sat on the South Rim of the Grand Canyon, and flown across the glaciers in a seaplane in Alaska so pretty good with those. Devil’s Tower is still on the list. Maybe an African safari someday though we drove through a nice, little safari in southern Oregon! 

Alaska by seaplane

The Redwoods. Check. The Matterhorn in Switzerland. Check. Walked with the flamingos in parade in the Bahamas so that was fun. Never ridden an elephant or a camel but they can stay off the list. I did finally get to go up in a small piper cub airplane with a friend and that was better than I expected. Haven’t been in a helicopter yet. 

We finally saw the Rockettes in New York City and the Christmas Tree in Rockefeller Center, definitely a Bucket List item! And catching a Broadway show was pretty special (considering what ticket prices are like today) but I would still like to see a show in the West End some day. The only time I went to London, going to a theater wasn’t on my list, though I did enjoy the Hard Rock Cafe in Piccadilly Circus; that was definitely a show.

We’ve enjoyed beignets and cafe au lait at Cafe DuMonde and listened to jazz in New Orleans, lobster and cold beer in Maine with fireworks, flamenco dancers and sangria in Spain, and Shakespeare in the Park, but I think it would be fun to experience a Mariachi band in Mexico, or at least in Texas, with a margarita, that would be nice. 

I’ve stayed in a small castle in Austria, a yurt in Maryland, camper trailers and Army tents, cottages and cabins, but I would still like to stay in a treehouse. Also a tepee. 

We’ve been trying to give our granddaughter a variety of experiences that I don’t believe she would normally get (though she has been up in a helicopter, jealous!) New York City, Boston, Las Vegas, Seattle, Portland, San Francisco (hopefully Los Angeles or perhaps London next year). I’m not sure how many more different trips we can take her on but we are hoping to keep up these summer trips with her. At some point it will be fun to see what she puts on her bucket list.

How are you doing on your Bucket List? Making any progress? or are you starting to add more items to the list after checking off others? It’s definitely a lifetime adventure, let me know what you have planned next!

Counting by 50s

This week I received a postcard invitation in the mail. Reminisce and Reconnect, 50-Year Golden Reunion from the Nevada Alumni Association. I graduated from the University of Nevada Reno in May 1974. But has it really been FIFTY YEARS? It doesn’t seem possible. The University of Nevada, Reno first welcomed students to classes on Oct. 12, 1874. Starting last year on Oct. 12, 2023, the University kicked off the yearlong sesquicentennial celebration through October 12, 2024, the date marking the 150th anniversary. https://www.unr.edu/celebrate150 

I ‘ve been going through a few old family photo albums recently. I came across a snapshot taken in our backyard in Reno. I remember all the faces though now more than half of them have passed on. It was June 1971-an early celebration of my grandparent’s 50th wedding anniversary which would be in June of 1974. My Dad’s sister was there along with my cousins. My Dad’s older brother Ralph and his wife Lucy, his older sister Gwen and her husband Frank. A cute white poodle. Hard to believe that Ralph and Emma May Hargrave were married the 29th of June 1924, a full century ago, and that it was his second marriage, his first wife having died in 1922.

In researching about my past and learning more about my grandparents, I was surprised to come across their college graduation programs online. Though the university they attended was quite a bit smaller in the early 1900s, the University of Southern California even then kept great records. 

My grandparents were always very encouraging of the grandchildren getting a college education and now I see why. It goes without saying that their children did. It’s ironic to me that my grandmother never mentioned her own graduation 50 years earlier. What class.  A special note: my uncle Ralph Jr. graduated from the University of San Francisco with a degree in pharmacy and later took over the pharmacy my grandparents had opened in San Bernardino, California.

My Great Grandfather Paul Herman Hilbig immigrated to America in November 1874. In searching through the collection “Germans to America'” at the Thomas Balch Library in Leesburg, I finally tracked down the ship my great-great grandmother, husband, and family arrived aboard and the date. If my gg-grandmother’s husband Charles Benning had adopted my great grandfather, our surname would have been Benning. He didn’t and the Hilbigs are celebrating 150 years in America this year, our own sesquicentennial!


In June 1974, The Beach Boys released their triple-platinum compilation album Endless Summer. This year the band is touring with their Endless Summer Gold show and frontman Mike Love does a great job bringing back those songs with original bandmate Bruce Johnson and a group of musicians (including John Stamos) who bring a lot of energy to these memorable classics. I confess it was my first time seeing the band but I loved hearing the songs I grew up with! Fifty years ago, what a summer.