Thursday, February 16, 2023

ChatGPT - Verse 2

 

Ara Güler photo

I heard a report on NPR where artists were protesting because ChatGPT user would ask it to create a drawing or graphic in the style of whatever artist they might choose and ChatGPT would create it with eerie likeness.  People could get for free what the artist was selling on a particular graphic art site.  Does this application of AI necessitate a reconsideration of the copyright laws or does it essentially make them null and void. 

This gave me an idea.  Why not ask ChatGPT to write a poem in my style?  I did just that, “Write a poem in the style of Mark Gavoor.”  It came back saying I had not given it enough info confirming my status in the Pantheon of poets.  I revised my query, “Compose a poem in the style of mdg-poetry.blogspot.com.”  This time it generated a poem in a few seconds.

 

In the still of the night,
When all is calm and bright,
I sit and ponder in thought,
Of all the lessons I've been taught.

 

Of love and loss, of pain and gain,
Of laughter, tears, and joys untold,
Of moments fleeting, like drops of rain,
And memories that never grow old.

 

I muse upon the roads I've walked,
And all the paths that I have strayed,
Of moments where my heart was shocked,
And others where it felt conveyed.

 

And yet, amidst the twists and turns,
That life has taken me through,
I know that with each rising morn,
A brighter future will ensue.

 

So I raise my head to the sky,
And whisper a prayer for tomorrow,
For the strength to keep climbing high,
And the grace to weather all sorrow.

 

For I know that with each passing day,
I'll find the courage to be strong,
And though life may lead me astray,
I'll find my way where I belong.

 

The themes were a bit similar.  The poem rhymed where mine are all in free verse.  ChatGPT’s poem was about twice as long as mine.  I felt like it failed.

I wrote a rebuttal if you will and posted both on mdg-poetry.blogspot.com.

 

My Response:

Well... I rarely rhyme so often

Methinks (actually i overthink way too much)

I am less (of course I am less)

Hallmarkish than this

 

And I have enough of that

Whatyacallit... oh yeah

Ego which tells me I am so

Flipping creative

That now I believe

I am toallly AI-ly

Unpatternably

Unpredictable

 

Head Space

February 8, 2023

 

I was feeling somewhat smug that I had one-upped ChatGPT.  Good for me.  Good for mankind. 

This morning I got a text from a friend, Meltem, who used to live here but moved back to Turkey, the country of her birth.  I played in a Turkish music she put together.  In the text, she provided this verse in Turkish and added “influential poetry, expressive, and says it all”:

 

Aşk ve kayıp, acı ve kazanç,

Kahkahalar, gözyaşları ve anlatılmamış sevinçler,

Yağmur damlaları gibi akıp giden anların,

Ve asla eskimeyen anılar.

 

It put it through Google translate and didn’t recognize it, but .  I ask her if she wrote it.  Her response was “No, you did.”  At that point I realized it was the second verse of the ChatGPT poem:

 

Of love and loss, of pain and gain,
Of laughter, tears, and joys untold,
Of moments fleeting, like drops of rain,
And memories that never grow old.

 

Meltem went on to say it ought to be the lyrics of a Turkish art song in the Rast maqam.  I had to agree, though I was favoring the maqam of Uşşak.

And just like that, all smugness evaporated.

Tuesday, February 14, 2023

Chidem Inch: The Earthquake and the Blockade


   On February 6, a magnitude 7.8 earthquake struck Turkey and Syria causing massive destruction and, as of this writing, over 30,000 deaths. There have been posts on social media from Turks and Syrians saying they are safe or, sadly, that a dear friend or family member has died because of the earthquake.
     In looking at the map of where the earthquake hit, we see the cities of Marash, Malatya, Ayntab, Aleppo, and even extending to Adana and Dikranagerd, historically part of Cilician Armenia. There are reports of Armenians, who still live in the region, having perished in the quake. Udi Levon Trsyn reported, “Not a single building in Maraş Nurdağı is solid.” Another musician acquaintance reported that Stepan Epremyan, a beautiful singer and performer from Diyarbakir, lost both friends and family in this disaster.
     It is very sad.

     Quite appropriately, the world is shocked and reaching out to help however they can. Search and rescue crews as well as supplies are pouring in from all over the world. Armenia has sent aid to Syria and Turkey. The Armenian Relief Society (ARS) has a special fund to support the surviving victims of this devastating earthquake. Everyone is doing what they can.
     It is heartening to see such press coverage and an outpouring of assistance from people who are touched by the destruction and loss of life. It is the right, humane and decent reaction to such an event.

     And yet…
     We, as Armenians, are again brutally faced with the plight of our brothers and sisters in Artsakh. One might think that an outpouring of humanitarian assistance might actually be a positive example to Erdogan and Aliyev to cease the blockade of Artsakh and allow food, fuel and medicine to be supplied to the people they are trying to starve and force to comply with evacuating their ancestral homes. But, no, this is not the case.
     The rest of the world is equally complacent in this regard. Countries will do all they can, as they should, to help the victims of this natural disaster but can conveniently ignore the Armenians of Artsakh. The world press reports on the relief efforts in Turkey and Syria, the death toll and remarkable stories of survival. They will do so with great vigor until the story is no longer a story. From my vantage point, there has been essentially zero coverage of the unfolding tragedy in Artsakh.
     It was good for Armenians to gather in Washington, DC last week in support of Artsakh. There were protests and meetings with congressional and administration leaders to advocate for meaningful legislation to cut military aid to Azerbaijan and other positive actions for Artsakh. I have no inside knowledge, but I am not holding out much hope for any substantive action soon. As a result of our activism, an anti-blockade resolution has been introduced in the House. We all certainly hope it passes and has enough teeth in it to end this starvation siege.     On October 29, 2019, Congress passed House Resolution 219 acknowledging the Armenian Genocide. Since then, the US has been mute on the subject while Turkey took it as an affront and decided to make the Armenians pay. A year later in 2020, Turkey, through their surrogate Azerbaijan started a war that took more than half of Artsakh from us. They now want the rest of Artsakh and may well get it given Armenia’s lack of military capability to do anything and that no other country is willing to come to the aid of the Armenians. The real fear is that Turks will not stop until… I can’t even type it.
    Varak Ghazarian is a young man I have gotten to know through reporting on the AYF Olympics these many years. He did a walking tour of Artsakh well before the 2020 war. It was fascinating to read his reports of meeting and staying with villagers in the region. Since the blockage, he has posted a story every day. I quote from his Day 59 post:

No one is going to come and save us. Just as history has proven time and time again, we are worthless to the world. It is time to build our worth amongst ourselves. Our current homeland should be our main goal. Our current state is threatened. Therefore, all of its people must bear the responsibility of guaranteeing its safety and well being.

     The world is helping Turkey and Syria as well we should. They should demand the same for Artsakh. It seems only right and fair. The same countries aiding in the earthquake relief should demand the end of the starvation siege of Artsakh. It seems only right and fair. But, while we should always advocate for such help, we should not and cannot count on it.

---

First published in The Armenian Weekly 2-13-23

Tuesday, February 7, 2023

The Gas Stove Thing

 

theweek.com

An early achievement of mankind was developing the ability to start fires at will and control fires to aid in staying warm, keeping predators away, and cooking.  I am not sure the order in which this all happened, but I am guessing that keeping warm was the first use of fire.  Cooking, and I am only speculating, was probably later in coming.  I am pretty sure of one thing and that is, from the get-go, man had to deal with the smoke that comes with wood and brush fueled fires.  I would imagine our ancestors learned very quickly where to sit relative to the breeze or wind direction to get the benefit of the glow and warmth with being overcome by the smoke.

As man evolved and developed, we created shelters be they tents, lodges, cabins, and eventually homes.  We brought fire into these dwellings and very quickly learned that holes or vents were needed to rise and escape the dwelling lest the smoke overwhelm everyone.  This is why tents had holes in the top, this is why hearths with chimneys were developed.  We wanted all the benefits of indoor fires with none of the smoke.

Any fire has some kind of emissions.  A fire is a chemical reaction, the fuel, be it wood, coal, wax, liquids, and gases are consumed by the and transformed into residues that can be solids, liquids, or gases.  This is true whether we see or smell the emissions.  Natural gas is a favored fuel for heating homes and cooking.  When burned it has no odor.  It is odorless before it is burned and we have added a unique fragrance just so we can smell leaks.  But, because it burns odorless, there are still emissions.  In our homes, we have gas furnaces, gas water heaters, and gas ranges and ovens. 

The furnaces and water heaters all vent the emission via chimneys but our ranges do not.  Recently, there a study was published that showed natural gas emissions, the colorless and odorless smoke, contains chemicals we might want to consider worrying about.  From the PSE: Bringing science to energy policy we see the following results:

  • Natural gas stoves emit up to 1.3 percent of the gas they use as unburned methane, notably with over three-quarters of methane emissions occurring when a stove is turned off.
  • Emissions of health-damaging air pollutants, such as nitrogen oxides, were found to be directly related to the use of the gas stove.
  • Over the course of one year, leaks from gas stoves in the U.S. have a climate impact comparable to the carbon dioxide emissions from roughly 500,000 passenger vehicles.
  • Simply igniting a burner releases the same amount of methane gas that would be expected during 10 minutes of burner use.
  • In homes with poor ventilation, small kitchens, or without the use of range hoods, using the cooktop or oven can cause concentrations of nitrogen dioxide to surpass the EPA’s outdoor guidelines for one-hour exposure within several minutes. There are currently no indoor air quality standards.

When these results came to light, there was talk about enacting regulations to either ban gas stoves or to ensure proper ventilation.  A lot of people freaked out at the prospect of having to give up their gas ranges.  Of course, it was a lot of hoopla.  The story died down as quickly as it flared up.  At this point, it is all but forgotten. 

There was no way we were ever going to ban gas stoves overnight.  It would simply have been too costly and put undo financial burden on households for a risk that we have been living with for decades. 

We probably need indoor air quality standards.  Why not?  But, it is better to have a plan than a knee jerk reaction.  We need a plan and to be phased in over time and assure that the “fixes” are economical and effective.

Saturday, February 4, 2023

Claude Ohanesian (1960-2022)

 

Claude with his favorite Packard
My photo at a local car show


It is the one-year anniversary of the passing of my dear friend Claude.  He passed away on February 2, 2022.  Tomorrow, Feb 5, I have arranged for his one-year requiem at our church as is our tradition. 

Claude was an amazing person.  He lived life with a passion, bold and gregarious, that many of us only wish we could.  This totally matched his personality which in a word was infectious. 

I have known Claude since the 1970s through the Armenian Youth Federation, a wonderful organization that has help bond Armenian friendships for 90 years.  He grew up in Granite City, IL where Armenians settled to work in the steel mills, and I grew up in Detroit where the auto industry provided the same attraction to that first generation Armenians that came to the US. 

In those, our teenage and college years, we were acquaintances for the most part.  Upon graduating from college, he took a job in the investment business in Chicago, married a Detroit girl, Audrey, and eventually settled in Lake Forest where my wife grew up and my in-laws lived.  My in-laws, Harold and Mary Mardoian, would include Claude and Audrey at family gatherings and holidays.  So, Claude was there many times when we visited Lake Forest.  Our friendship grew from these visits.

Our friendship and bond really became something special when we moved to Lake Forest and we spent a lot more time together.  When we were looking for our house, we actually put a bid in on a house right next door to Claude and Audrey.  I called him and told him of this possibility, and we were both way too excited about the prospect.  Ultimately, we did not buy that house because it required a complete re-do on the inside.  We ended up buying an even nicer house in a pristine move-in condition.  Instead of being next door neighbors, we lived two miles apart.  We laughed about almost being next door neighbors until he passed away.


As Claude had a passion for life, the passion was first and foremost for his family and friends.  His wife and daughters, Lena and Christina, meant everything to him.  He did everything for them and always would say that they had it so good he “wanted to come back as one of his daughters.” Claude spoke with great reverence and extraordinary love for his grandmother.  He would bring her up all the time with references to the lessons she taught him, the food she made, and the unconditional love she had for him.  I wish I could have met this lady that he always talked about.

Claude embraced his chosen profession as financial advisor and investment counselor.   His personality and acumen endeared clients to him.  He was always just a phone call or text away and he was always on the phone.  He was always having financial reviews and often over dinner.  He started at Smith Barney and worked his way to a top performer at Citi which had bought Smith Barney.  In 2011, he started his own business, CGO Wealth Management.  He was so excited and proud to have his own office and loved having an office in Highland Park and not having to trek downtown anymore.   He did interviews in the press and on TV.  He recorded his own videos and was even talking about writing a book about investing.

Claude loved baseball.  It was a passion unlike I have ever seen but that can be said for everyone of Claude’s passionate interests.  He read all the classic baseball books and would quote statistics, stories, and even quotes from them.  He was a lifelong fan of his beloved St. Louis Cardinals.  In Chicago, he had season tickets to both the White

At a Cubs Cardinals game in 2014

Sox and the Cubs.  He treated me to a game every now and then.  It was a real treat.  And he did it in such great style.  He had excellent seats and always had access to the executive clubs at both stadiums where we eat well, and then make our way to the seats.  As enjoyable as the games were, it was the time spent in the car conversing on anything and everything that were even more memorable.

Claude loved two countries, the United States and Armenia.  He has read the definitive biographies of more Presidents and visited more Presidential Libraries than anyone I know.  He admired Theodore Roosevelt, John F. Kennedy, and Ronald Reagan.  He was certainly a market oriented fiscal conservative but a bit more liberal in when it came to social policy.  We had great discourse on the path this country should take.  He could listen to opposing viewpoints with a measured calm the whole country would benefit from adopting

As for Armenia and Armenian causes, Claude was active, involved, and generous.  He gave of his time, investment advice, and donations to the All Saints Church here in Chicago and the Armenian National Committee (ANC) of which he was the head of ANC-IL for several years.  He came to St. Gregory Armenian Church in Chicago where we performed my From Ararat to America Concert.  He never stopped raving about that concert, how rich our culture is, how much he loved the music he heard and learned about at our concert.

Claude was a collector, a most serious collector. He had a crazy number of baseball shirts and hats.  He had a fine collection of cigars of which half were Cuban.  Since starting CGO, Claude got into vintage cars and autographs.  I remember when brought his first vintage car, a red 1957 Thunderbird.  It was a beautiful convertible.  He brought it over to show me and give me a ride in it.  He next bought a cream yellow 1939 Packard Darin convertible with a rumble seat that I once climbed into.  He did not stop there and kept acquiring cars.  He bought one garage to store his dozen cars and then sold that and bought an even bigger warehouse to hold his very impressive collection of 50-60 cars.  He had more Packards than any other nameplate.  His favorite was a 1938 Packard Super Eight Sedanca de Ville with a most impressive history.   Upon his passing, Jay Leno bought his 1956 Packard Caribbean.  He had cars from the 30s through the 80s.  He had Natalie Wood's Buick Riviera.  He had an MG which he wanted to sell me because it was my initials.  I may have bought it but for the fact it was incredibly difficult getting in and out of the small sports car.  Because of him I did buy two cars.  One is my everyday car:  Old New Car – New Older Car.  The other one car is my one soon to be vintage car:  A New, Even Older, Car.  I cannot help but think of him every time I drive around town with the top down in my SL.

His autograph collection was just as extensive and impressive.  It ranged from the Rat Pack to the Three Stooges, from Lincoln to Reagan, The Beatles, and so many others that I cannot recall.  The collection also reflected his love for baseball and US Presidents. He had hundreds of autographs and collages of autographs and photos of sportsmen, artists, entertainers, and political leaders he admired.

Claude was a natural comic and mimic.  He was very good at both.  He would regale anyone he was with be it just one person or an entire dinner party.  At baseball games, he would provide the play by play as Harry Carey.  He did a great Winston Churchill.  Being a student of the great man, he also had memorized some of his greatest quotes.  He could be JFK or Ronald Reagan. He would leave voice messages in the voice of Churchill, John Lennon, a iconic Armenian Priest from our youth, folks in our circle of friends, and the eccentric and colorful members of out Armenian community.

He would call me up and tell me to meet him at his warehouse which he affectionately called “the man cave.”  He would show me his latest acquisition, or we would just have a soda and chat.  I went with him to look at cars he was thinking about buying.  He would call and just pick me up to tour around on a weekend afternoon in one of his cars.  I would do the same in one of my two cars.  I went to a few local shows where he was showing a car or two.  I was always amazed by the number of people who knew him and how close he was to everyone.  Claude had the same impact on everyone.  He was a dear friend to so many; more than anyone else I have ever known.  There was a uniqueness to each friendship and a sameness as well.  We all miss him dearly.  He was a truly special guy in this regard. 

For the past few years, we knew Claude was not well.  But he hid the severity of his cancer that he never told me anything about it.  I truly believe he thought he was going to beat it.  He was that kind of positive guy.  He was about to begin a major renovation on the man cave.  Another Armenian friend was to have done the renovation spent a lot of time with Claude drawing up plans.  Claude showed me the drawings for what he was planning to do.  He was going to have a truly gorgeous space for his office, autographs, and cars.  It was going to be a space that could be used for fundraisers and other social gatherings.  He showed me these plans a month before he passed.  He did not believe he was going to pass and he wanted to live his life to fullest as long as he could.  He did just that.  Claude lived his life fully, boldly, and passionately, while fighting through the treatments, until the very end.  This memory of my friend’s will and drive that will stay with forever.  I wish I had the money to buy his building, his cars, and realize his vision for the venue.  I would have certainly done it if could. 

While I miss my friend, I think fondly of the many memories of our time together which are all treasured and an inspiration to me.   The year of morning is coming to an end this weekend.  I will never stop missing him nor reflecting on our friendship and the times we had.

===

In this time, I have chosen to remember friends that have passed away.  Please read Late Fall or Early Winter? to get a perspective of why I am doing this.

 ===

 

 
 
 
The car Jay Leno bought from 
Claude's Collection
 
From the Feb 5, 2002 Hokehankist
 

 


 

Wednesday, February 1, 2023

Beginning Volume 20

 


This posting marks the beginning of the 20th year of this writing project.  This is the first post of Volume XX.  In the first nineteen volumes, there have been 790 posts.

It began in February of 2004 as a monthly e-letter to friends and family.  Marilyn Zavidow, a commuter friend at the time, named it - The Other Side of Fifty:  A Monthly Letter of Musings and Meandering.  In 2009, I moved it over to this blog and kept the name the same even though the posts are more frequent than monthly, and the e-letter is but a memory.  As stated in many Anniversary e-letters and blog posts, this was all inspired by the monthly letter of the esteemed French American attorney Aram J. Kevorkian.

As I have often wrote about procrastination and the struggle to sustain long term projects, this body of writing stands as a proud example of a wonderful and rewarding long-term project.  People kindly comment on how I bring insight and rationale to confusing issues we all face personality and in society.  Of course, the whole blog about nothing is the humorous and sarcastic side that is so necessary in life these days.  For certain, I do adhere to Marilyn’s tagline and do certainly muse and meander.

In these Anniversary letters or posts, I talk about my writing habits and processes.  My minimum length post is 500 words.  Other than it being a nice round number, how did I come to this minimum wordcount?  That seemed to be the minimum essay length in my senior year of high school and freshman writing class at Michigan.

As it is the beginning of the semester, I have recently week assigned papers in my Operations Management and Principles of Microeconomics courses.  I give a relatively detailed directions for what the papers should be about and what I expect including the rubric I use to grade the paper.  I purposely don’t stipulate a minimum word or page length.  Invariably, a student will ask, “How long should the paper be professor?”

I wait such questions and launch into a short monologue on the subject.  I ask the student, “Pretend I was your boss in some corporate job and asked you to prepare an analysis and report on some topic critical to our business.  If you then asked me ‘How long do you want the report to be?’  What do you think would be going through my mind at that point?”  The student would answer something like, “Long enough, I guess.” I would respond, “Yes, but I would also be thinking, ‘Why did we hire this person?’”  I will then give them a range like “500-700 seems to be the sweet spot for students that do well on this assignment,” and we move on from there.

I am happy to mark the start of my 2Oth year of doing this in the year I turn 70. 

I close with thanking Ms. Trosko! Which gets me to exactly 500 words for this post.