How about writing directly to students from the time they start school?
Author Archives: Ron Byrnes
It’s 1995
Said one technology analyst this week on the heels of artificial intelligence chip maker Nvidia’s red hot quarterly results. Meaning just like when the internet caught fire in 1995, Nvidia is igniting a whole new technology whose trajectory requires educated guesses.
Let’s press pause and ponder whether we’re better off now than in the early 90s. Inevitably my privilege contributes to my belief that we are a lot better off. Partially because of convenience. Specifically, we take for granted the time we save on almost a daily basis from internet-based personal tech. Case in point. A friend recently posted a picture of himself on Facebook at the Westminster, CA Department of Motor Vehicles where I got my license 46 years ago and I thought, “Why the heck did he go in person?” because I can’t remember the last time I went to the DMV.*
Granted, not a substantive example of human progress, but I suspect it is the cumulative effect of relatively simple and smallish such examples that translate into an improved quality of life.
More meaningfully, here’s a far-out social media adventure I went on last week after an extended family member posted this gem to the ‘Byrnes Family’ group text.

That’s my oldest bro teaching me the sweet science in Muhammad Ali’s hometown. As I looked at it, my attention drifted to the background and my best friend’s house. Jimmy D and I were in separable from ages 3-9. Heartbroken over the end of our friendship, when we moved from Louisville to Ohio I sobbed in the back seat halfway there.
Where the heck is Jimmy fifty-five years later I wondered? A quick google search turned up his dad’s obituary from 2020 including his and his sister’s places of residence. A few seconds later, I was on Jim’s Instagram page looking at his island home just off the Maryland shore that he and his husband were selling.** Then I watched a video from inside his home art studio where he talked about his process. Another quick search turned up his new location. After scouring his instagram and admiring his big white fluffy dogs, I visited his sister’s Facebook page and saw a picture of Jim and his elderly mom. And then back to the obituary and some remembrances including an amazing picture of a very young Jimmy with his parents and sisters on the back brick patio of his Cardiff Rd home. . . the one in the picture.
A miracle of modernity.
I listen a lot to people on the forefront of large language models and my take-away from their predictions is that this technology will greatly accelerate economic productivity and further save people time to pursue more non-work interests and activities.
Not all boats will rise to the same degree, because they never have, but artificial intelligence will in all likelihood induce a much higher tide. White collar people in particular will work less while enjoying simple and smallish and quite possibly complex and more substantive improvements to their quality of life.
BUT will any of us be happier? One way to get at that is to reflect on whether we’re happier now than in the early 90s. Despite internet-fueled economic growth, there’s lots of evidence that we are not. In fact, some would argue that a large part of the internet’s legacy, especially among the young, is steadily worsening mental health. And a coarsening of civic life.
Another way to approach the question of whether we’ll be happier in a post AI world is to consider whether it will foster stronger interpersonal connections. Will it, I wonder, enable us to enjoy the company of more close friends? I also wonder whether it will enable us to slow if not reverse the environmental degradation that threatens our well-being. And will we, I wonder, experience more art that moves us more often, and in the end, makes us feel more alive. Alive in ways that renewing car tabs on-line and skimming friends’ Instagram pages never will.
In the same space of time, 29 years from now, in 2053, I suspect we won’t be much if any happier than we are right now. I would like to be wrong and still around so that you can recall this post and roast me for not being nearly optimistic enough.
*needed to do an eye test to renew his license
**someone in my fam asked if I knew Jimmy was gay, “LOL,” I said. “We were six, I don’t think I knew what ‘gay’ was.”
Look At Me
I would like to believe our obsession with our own images has peaked, but evidence suggests it still has room to run. Where does it end? If it does?
Museum selfie-takers are causing damage by backing into artworks.
Paragraphs To Ponder
“And therein lies the reality of the entire Bronny James situation. He is a good basketball player … but right now, he is not a great one. He is a freshman still developing. So yes, he makes silly mistakes — like not finishing one second-half cut, which led to a USC turnover and Enfield barking across the court with his pointer finger extended. But he also has promising flashes. It’s a mixed bag. It’s no different than dozens of other talented but raw prospects across the country.
This one just happens to have a stupendous surname.
Take away that bloodline, and Bronny James is a multi-year college player, one who needs to continue honing his skills. Reminder: He is not even a starter now, on one of the most disappointing teams in the worst of all six power conferences, per KenPom. (USC was picked to finish second in the Pac-12 and was ranked No. 21 in the preseason AP poll. The Trojans are one game ahead of Oregon State for last place in the league). What about that suggests this guy is ready for the NBA next season? Absolutely nothing.”
Take-away for those on their way up. If your parent is arguably the GOAT at their job, follow in their footsteps at your own peril.
Do Follow My Lead
Political analysts of all stripes agree that the 2024 Presidential Election will be decided by about 5% of voters who don’t identify with either the Red Team or the Blue Team exclusively. Those rarely seen in the wild independents will prove especially important in the six states that will likely determine which candidate gets 270+ electoral votes—Pennsylvania, Wisconsin, Michigan, North Carolina, Arizona and Georgia.
I’m Team ‘Blue Team’ in a decidedly blue state, meaning the Octogenarian won’t really need my vote. So what can I do, and people like me, who are desperate to preserve our democracy?
Several things. First, let’s identify all of our independent friends. For example, using their Alaska Airline abbreviations to maintain their privacy, I’m thinking of MARN, TMAT, and MLAL.
Second, ask each 5 percenter which of the six swing states they like the most and would be willing to move to by summer’s end*.
Third, find them a job in their swing state of choice that pays an equivalent amount.
Fourth, help them sell their current crib and buy a similar one in their swing state of choice in time to establish residency.
Fifth, hire a moving company to ease the transition, give them ample gas and hotel money, and pack treats for their journey.
Imagine if everyone on Team Blue, did this, like me, for three of their independent friends.
Landslide baby, landslide.
*with the understanding that as soon as they vote, they can move back if they so choose
My Life Is Hard
Organize Victory
Do NOT Follow My Lead
The Future Is Here 2
Dig this exchange of commenters on a review of Apple’s new Vision Pro.

The Earlies are all a flutter. Meanwhile the Lates are loading their empty Bic pins with spit balls and taking dead aim at them.
As an investor, I’m heartened by the Earlies’ enthusiasm; but more personally, I’m down with the Lates’s cynicism.
Who Won The Super Bowl?
One group of friends doesn’t know and doesn’t care. They have a wonderfully whacky Super Bowl tradition that appeals greatly to the nonconformist in me. Each year they compete to see who can go the longest without knowing the outcome. Especially in a year like this one where I don’t have a rooting interest and the Dad and Daughters Club has committed February 11th to watching “Killers Of The Flower Moon.”
Truthfully, I am too plugged in to do very well. I mean, it’s kind of hard to find out who won the golf tournament without stumbling upon the Super Bowl winner.
Alison says when she doesn’t want to know the score of a Chelsea women’s game, she goes “full Amish”. That is prob what it takes. Who is in with me?
May the most Amish among us win.

