Author: Matthew Groff

  • ODDS and ENDS: Robot Overlords, Who Are These People, and Working on My 100

    (I just want what’s coming to me, I just want my fair share…)

    I had a thought this morning; how long until all online customer service chats with retailors are run by AI? I know to a degree the start of most chats are a prompt system – you answer some basic questions, and then you start talking to a human. But if I understand how things are going, then it’s just a matter of time before AI will take over this aspect. And if that did happen, would retailors tell us it’s AI that is assisting us, or would they try to hide it by telling us we are talking to “Kevin”? If they try to hide the AI, then I had another thought; could one do a type of Turning Test on customer service AI? Now thinking of it, is it more like Blade Runner, because the Turning Test requires two people and a machine. Either way, it sounds like a challenge. You know, make the AI question its existence, you get free shipping.

    I know of no one who is excited about the Coronation of King Charles. That might be due to the fact that I’m an American, and we don’t like kings, which is kind of our thing, you know. (I also live in a city that famously tore down a statue of a king at the start of The Revolution.) But from what I keep seeing on tv, the Coronation is a big deal that people want to see. I have to believe that the major networks must have some demographic research backing up this decision. That they know this coverage will bring in viewers and they can sell ads. It’s the only reason they do anything. So, who are these people that want to see this? Who?

    I sent out a big batch of submissions this week. I’m still working my way to 100 no’s. I’m closing in on the number, which is a very strange way is putting me in a good mood. It’s not great progress, but it is progress; Getting out there, trying stuff out, getting my stuff in front of people’s eyes. I don’t like hearing no, but I understand it’s part of the process.  

  • Not the Dream I Wanted

    I don’t remember my dreams. Or, it’s very rare that I remember a dream. When I do remember one, what sticks with me is an image, or a feeling. People and places will be there, but it’s like everything is frozen in a moment that I am very much aware has events that happened before this frozen moment, and sometimes, I even know what will happen after. It’s all very strange.

    The rarest dream that I have is the full-blown narrative, and interaction with people. That’s what happened to me last night. And it was awful.

    I dreamed about people I used to work with, and not the friendly and good people who became my friends. No, I dreamt about all the awful people that I didn’t get along with, or who went out of their way to make my employment as unenjoyable as possible. In this dream, I was holding open a door to a church so people could enter. And then all of my former co-workers showed up, and refused to go through the door I was holding open. They didn’t say anything to me, just made eye contact, and then went to a different door. The overwhelming feeling I was getting was that when I went to work on Monday, I was going to get fired.

    Yeah, it was a terrible dream, and what made the dream worse was when I woke up, I thought the dream was real, and I had to get up and go to that job. It took a second for me to come out of it, knowing that I didn’t have an office to report to, but that feeling of dread and anxiety has been hung all over me this morning.

    Dread and anxiety is what I felt when I went into the office most days. Some of it was caused by the people I worked with, who starred in my dream. But, most of it was caused by me. Most days, as I packed myself on a subway car, listening to music and reading The Times or New Yorker on my phone – doing my best to shut out the world on my commute – I would wonder if this would be another day wasted? That if this was a job that was slowly killing me; sucking out my ambition and drive and all the reasons why I wanted to move away from home and try something different. As I get more space and time to reflect on my office days, I can see that some of the issues I had were me not being happy with the situation I placed myself in. Don’t get me wrong – the shitty people were still shitty people, but I allowed them to get to me for far too long.

    But that’s the point of reflection, right? To learn lessons from your own life and actions. What I now know is that when I sense those feelings of dread and anxiety, I need to get the hell out of that situation. Odds are that I will return to an office one day, and if I do, I know the warning signs to watch out for.

    That’s progress.

    But I can’t figure out why I was at a church in the dream…

  • Short Story Review: “The Plaza” by Rebecca Makkai

    (The short story “The Plaza” by Rebecca Makkai appeared in the May 8th, 2023 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (SPOLIERS should be expected, but not intended.)

    Sometimes I just want to read a good old-fashioned short story, like from that Post WWII/1950’s period when writers could make a living publishing stories in magazines. These are the stories that are aligned more to the entertaining fair, rather than deep expressions of artistic ambition. Don’t get me wrong, at heart I’m an arty-farty experimental writing guy. Yet, now and then, it is refreshing to read something that came from the period when America was establishing what would become Modern literature.

    When I started reading “The Plaza” by Rebecca Makkai, she took me right to that place and era, not only of literature, but of that specific New York City of old. Makkai did a particular perfect job of making The Plaza of her story matches The Plaza that only exists in the fantasy world of American literature and theatre; a playground for the well off, where any desire or request will be met by the concierge, bellhops and maids. And fantasy is correct for this story.

    “The Plaza” concerns Margie, who is a local beauty in a small town along the upper Delaware River, who at twenty-three is a waitress at a hotel for men who fish the river on vacation. It is there that she meets Alistair Baldwell, a rich young man from New York City, and his Yale friends who are there for the fishing. Soon, Alistair and Margie are together, and before he leaves, he suggests that she should come to visit him in New York. After some time, she does, and he puts her up in a room at The Plaza, and from there, their lives change, including their names. She becomes Margaret, and he becomes Ally. An unexpected pregnancy complicates the situation, but Ally’s answer is for Margaret to take a suite at The Plaza, which Ally’s company pays for, and they secretly wed. And clearly more happens.

    As I said before, this story feels like a complete throw back to what magazine American literature from the Post War period felt like. The sweep, the characters, the vast amount of time covered, and a New York City that feels peacefully wonderful and safe. And this story could exist on that simple homage level, and it would be fine. But what Makkai does expertly here is bring in a delightful undercurrent of allusion and realism. The realism of mounting lies, and the destruction of trust. I also found Margaret’s relationship with her father and brothers painfully honest, giving a clear understand of her motivations in life. But it is the allusion of the fairy tale; a princess locked away in a castle. But also, the feeling of Margaret creating her own fairy tale/fantasy in the world that she finds herself in. All of these pieces swirl together, creating a very textured and entwined story.

    In the end, I found “The Plaza” to be an entertaining story, which fooled me into thinking, at first, that it was just an old styled story. Such is the power of a good writer. What is on display is a writer who understands what made those old stories work so well, while still staying modern and fresh with the narrative, which creates something wholly new.

  • Illness Strikes Again!

    The wife is sick. She came down with something over the weekend, which is pretty close to the worst time to get sick. Just when she thought she was about to get two days to relax, her body decided that it needed a fever and body aches. Poor girl.

    Me and the kid are now in nurse mode. Checking on mom, making sure she is comfortable, get her medication and lots of fluids. We even ordered ramen for her, which really wasn’t a sacrifice, as it sure did make everyone in the apartment happy!

    As I sit on the couch writing, she’s in the bed sleeping, with an occasional cough coming from under the covers. The dog is up with her, curled at the foot of the bed. I am sure the dog thinks that this has been a wonderful couple of days; napping all the time!

    I don’t think I’ll be getting much done this week, and that is fine. I like taking care of her. I like making my wife feel better. Giving comfort and making her laugh.

    And I have a really good chicken noodle soup recipe that I can make as well.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Not Bad, Bad Words, and Words

    (Corinthian Leather wasn’t a real thing…)

    I stand corrected, and Tottenham Hotspur proved me wrong yesterday. And as promised, I’m writing about the team again. They went down two goals to Man United by halftime, and it looked like it was over. All that was left was forty-five minutes of agony. But the second half can also be a different game, match and attitude. Spurs came out and played like they wanted it. Both teams had plenty of opportunities to put the game away, but what we got was a 2-2 draw. I’ll take it. This has made the race for fourth place more interesting, and shows that there is still a good team in that Spurs squad. Ultimately, I believe they will fall short of this goal, but my hope lives on the dream that there is a manager somewhere in the world watching this team knowing what they would do to make this team win.

    My daughter, who is eight, knows most of the curse words in the English language. We do live in New York City, and the populace here is legendary for their use of swears in odd but expressive combinations. So, it’s difficult to shield her from these words. And she also goes to school which is an incubator of curse usage. But my daughter does her best to refrain from using theses words at home, though her parents fail often at trying to do the same thing. What my kid does at home to swear but not swear is use similar sound words as replacements. While playing games on the family Switch. We are peppered with her use of “frick” and “dang” and “shoot.” Sometimes she will glance at me to see if I am reacting to her use of these words, like she’s testing the waters. For I know that she wants to dive deep into the pool of four letter bad words, but doesn’t want to get grounded.

    I should be reading more. Just saying…