Good Vibes All Around

And the loss of imagination

It was the summer of 1986 and I was well down the “Highway to the Danger Zone.” Which explains why my first concert was seeing Kenny Loggins headline the 1986 California Mid-State Fair. Fortunately, my taste in music improved over the years.

To which I credit one person: Jason.

Jason and I became friends at Salinas High. Close. But not super close. We got along because, well, Jason got along with everyone. He had a big smile, was always fun to hang out with, and had this curiosity about the world – and the people in it. Maybe it was something about being born in Nebraska, raised in California, that made him who he was.

As we entered our final months of high school, neither one of us had any real plans for the summer. He was going to play music before heading off to UCSB; I was going to do something or another before a semester of junior college that preceded heading to Cal in January.

At some point that spring, Jason asked, “Want to go to Maui?” It was an unexpected invitation. Like I said, we were close, but not that close.

Jason’s dad, a serial entrepreneur, had recently opened a Mailboxes Etc in Maui and “needed” help to get the business off the ground. As you well know, I will always sacrifice myself for the greater good. And for a freshly minted high school graduate, what greater good could there be than working in Maui at a Mailboxes Etc?

Follow me to freedom.

Day after day, we toiled in the air-conditioned confines of that strip mall MBE. Lunch on the beach. Dinner on the beach. It was a brutal summer. (Since this is a family publication, I might be leaving out a few “details.”) Those years of hard labor mean that I can wield a tape gun with lethal precision, efficiently pack fragile souvenirs with the correct peanuts-to-bubble-wrap ratio, and, if pressed, I can sell you a Maui Dollar.

After returning to the mainland, we stayed in touch. I visited him in Santa Barbara. He spent a summer renting a room in the house I was living in. (Come to think of it, Jason and I were eating burgers at Larry Blake’s on Telegraph when OJ fled in his white Bronco.) After we graduated, I moved to Boston, Jason made his way to London where he lived and worked for many years.

I visited him in London in the summer of 2016, when I was finishing my first book project. A miracle given how much ale we drank that week.

The Brits love their ale.

When he was stateside, we tried to cross paths. Toya’s first introduction to Jason was a brunch on the cliffs of Big Sur. Which led to a random invitation to a banger of a 2020 New Year’s celebration at Sly McFly’s in Monterey.

We return to the scene of the crime.

About 18 months ago Jason was diagnosed with brain cancer. (Cancer, for the record, makes me incredibly Cranky.) The radiation and chemo helped for a while. He kept working and was able to travel. Anisa met Uncle Jason when he came through town earlier this year - she loved the dinosaur stickers.

But, a month ago, Jason suddenly couldn’t get out of bed and his partner, Zuzana, got him to the hospital. There was nothing else that could be done so, soon, he was back home and in hospice care.

Last weekend, I made a quick trip to London to see Jason and Zuzana. Beyond fluttering eyes and a squeeze of the hand when I showed him a “get well soon” video from Anisa or cracked-wise about Maui unmentionables, he was unresponsive. For a friend who was so responsive to everything, it was disorienting. It also got me to thinking about everything Jason taught me.

The obvious lesson he imparted was to enjoy the moment. Not only was Jason a musician himself (listen to his album here), but over the years he cajoled me to go to some incredible shows. They actually make up my top four concerts: 1. The original 1991 Jane’s Addiction Lollapalooza; 2. 1991 New Year’s Eve at the Cow Palace, Nirvana, Pearl Jam, headlined by the Red Hot Chili Peppers; 3. Abdullah Ibrahim at Yoshi’s in Oakland; and, 4. Sugar Hill Gang in London in 2016. (Sorry, K-Dog, you didn’t make the cut.)

Of course, along the way there were random shows in Berkeley, Manchester, Santa Barbara and beyond. And, when I saw him in Oakland earlier this year, we ended up at a dive bar with a band that was way too loud for the space. But, it was live music.

More importantly, Jason helped me understand myself. Which I never thanked him for. He was comfortable with my awkward bookishness, strange attempts to fit in, desire to recede into the background. Whatever mood I was in, Jason was supportive. I was lucky to be surrounded by good people growing up, but Jason may have been the best.

He didn’t ask for anything, he just offered.

Which is why it was so good to see him. Because the one thing he asked for (perhaps the only thing he ever asked me for) was to spend his final months with friends. Other friends made that journey to London sooner than I did. And, honestly, I wish I had made that trip sooner.

He may not have been responsive, but he wasn’t suffering. Zuzana was taking great care of him. Hospice caregivers were there three times a day. (Donate to your local hospice.) And he was enjoying his music.

On the second afternoon, Ashley dropped by the house. She talked about how Jason had single-handedly energized the University of California alumni community in London. And, how he had managed to make the introductions that got her a job with said organization. As Jason listened, we shared stories about his kindness and his generosity.

“He is this perfect combination of Nebraska-kind and California-chill,” Ashley said as she wrestled with Monty, their new Dachshund puppy. “He is just good vibes all around.”

Indeed.

Yesterday, on the WhatsApp thread, we got news from Zuzana that Jason had passed away – with the Beatles “Let it Be” playing softly in the background.

Jason, you were the best of vibes all around. May all of us have a friend like you. See you on the other side.

Imagination

I want to go back to my last post, Catching Beautiful Rainbows, where I wrote:

Does Baby Girl believe the stories she is telling? I have no idea. But it is the version of her life at that moment that she loves to share. Which is the core of most stories we tell. Fact or fiction, most everything we share is based on our life experience and how we want the world to understand it. We may not understand the depth or structure or history of a story, but it turns out we hold the prism through which others see our lives.

The stories we tell are also an exercise of our imagination. Creating ideas, sharing them, improving them. Our ability to imagine is one of those things that just makes us special as human beings. And it is being taken away.

Two goofballs and a photo booth

Last week I had lunch with a friend who is a leader in the Silicon Valley VC world. He is also very much not a Tech Bro. Over sandwiches, we talked about the impact of Generative AI on young people.

On its face, Generative Artificial Intelligence is amazing. Type in a description of some outlandish image, and within seconds it has been produced. Ask for an essay on a particular topic, in a particular style, and you have it in seconds.

There is no first draft. There is no second draft. There is no work. Just “prompts.” For discerning adults, this can be incredibly helpful. Our education as children gave us a level of discernment that increases the chance we use these tools appropriately.

For kids whose education will be shaped by Generative AI, the imagination to develop an image, much less a story, will no longer be necessary. The relationship with a co-creator won’t exist. The intuition of what is right or wrong, will never develop. In other words, their ability to discern, to judge, will be fundamentally different.

Look, every day we are dealing with the terrible impact of social media on children, much less society. There is no turning back the clock on that disaster. Which is why we should be clear-eyed that Generative AI is a powerful force which is being created by private companies to maximize their profit. Generative AI is instant, effortless, and powerful.

For children, Generative AI runs the very real risk of stealing from them the ability to interact well with other people, appreciate beauty, take responsibility, and persevere in challenging situations. The skills that, in time, help us become wise. Generative AI systems will undercut all of this education.

For Anisa, a “beautiful rainbow” would just be handed to her. She wouldn’t have the opportunity to create it in her mind, share it with her friends, make it sparkle even more. We will all be worse off as a result.

Reading

Bill W. got me a copy of Colin Woodward’s new book, Nations Apart. Great read, fascinating analysis, just a bit Yankee in tone.

Watching

Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul are two of my favorite shows. When Vince Gilligan – the creator of those shows – released Pluribus, I was all in. First two episodes were mind blowing great. Well worth your time.

Cooking

With a cross country move on the horizon, we are clearing out refrigerators and freezers. Lots of experimentation. Some good. Some not so good. Couple of last hurrah desserts have been requested for Thanksgiving next week.

Listening

Springsteen’s Nebraska is on repeat. So good. A fun interview with him here.