I want an executive assistant like Trump’s “human printer”, Natalie Harp.

From Harp’s Wikipedia entry:

“She (Harp) often accompanied Trump when he played golf, bringing a printer and a laptop to show him articles; Harp’s use of a printer, which began from Trump’s preference for paper news, led to her being given the nickname of the ‘human printer’.”

What this excerpt doesn’t explain is that Harp only feeds Trump a steady diet of the best news coverage available at the time.

Yeah, I want someone just like Harp who would follow me around everywhere and provide a constant flow of unrelenting praise. Offloading self-compassion if you will. How great would that be?! Truly, this is an idea that only a stable genius could come up with.

Ironically, I played nine holes of golf for the first time in forever the other night. I somehow started out on fire but missed a short one for par on the par-5 fifth hole. How great would it be for my Natalie Harp to be sitting in a cart greenside at the ready to lift my spirits after a boneheaded bogey. Maybe handing me a printout that documents just how great my drive and five-wood were before the weak sand wedge and failed up and down that would soon be forgotten in all the praise for my amazing long game. And then, on the way to the next tee, she would whisper, “Many people are saying Ron, that was the best drive/five-wood combo this hole has ever seen. I know you’re going to make birdie on the next hole, so I’m just writing it in now.”

Yesterday, after an excellent group ride, I was day dreaming about my own Natalie Harp when I had an epiphany. I already have one in the form of my Strava AI assistant! Strava is a personal fitness app where people upload their workouts and applaud one another’s efforts. Think of it as a pseudo, cloud-sourced executive assistant/cheerleader of sorts.

But with an AI overlay, distinguished by its toxic positivity, it’s even more. Dig this recap of my ride.

“Crushed it.” “You’re clearly dialed in.” “What’s really impressive. . . ” I’m blushing. Never mind that it’s only the fifth day of the month.

Now, if we press pause for just a little bit and reflect on a very real possible downside to continuous over the top praise, there’s ample evidence that one could become a narcissistic sociopath.

But that’s a risk I’m willing to take.