A Backroads Meander

Map showing route from Phoenix to Maine

The exotic and often intriguing nature of uncertainty is partially muted as a slightly greater familiarity with what lies ahead has, to a small degree, already been experienced. I’m referring to the cross-country adventure I’m about to embark upon. When Caroline and I took our first meandering drive over the breadth of the United States, we drove in the astonishment of new sights we’d never experienced. That intensity of discovery wanes with each subsequent encounter with a place, or so my anticipation informs me, seeing my excitement is not ratcheting as high as I might have desired. Maybe my joy has to be tamped down because the first leg of this trip will be solo to better position Caroline and me to maximize the core of our vacation together that starts August 31st in New York.

Map showing the route from New York through Eastern Canada

I feel that this blog post is being written to help form a kind of structural framework that I’ll use while out on my own, or at least will get me thinking of this solitary journey that is just days away from getting going. The truth is that there’s probably nothing that would influence or shape any aspect of those days on the road as the reality of the situation while underway is that I’ll be encountering myself reacting to the stimuli of the moment and any intentionality that might have had an impact was most keen back when I was able to solidify these travel plans. Now, all I can do is wait until I’m in the car and see what the days and miles inspire within me as I move along, wondering how Caroline might see what is ahead and all around us. With that in mind, I hope to write stories where she’ll feel that she was present, at least in my heart.

Map of the route to and from Newfoundland, Canada

Caroline’s part of our adventure will include 2,200 miles of driving east from where she lands in Buffalo, New York, and 1,200 miles of traveling west on our return to Maine, from where she’ll fly back to Phoenix, Arizona. Her total land distance will amount to 3,400 miles (5,472 km), equivalent to driving from Frankfurt, Germany, over Austria, Slovenia, Croatia, Serbia, Bulgaria, Turkey, Iraq, Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, and into Bahrain. The actual route will take us across and down through New York, over to Vermont, across New Hampshire, and into Maine before we move into Canada with visits to New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island, Nova Scotia, and Newfoundland.

Map of the route on Prince Edward Island, Canada

Meanwhile, my drive is equivalent to driving from Frankfurt, Germany, to Cape Town, South Africa, or 8,053 miles (12,960 km), all of it on backroads across the central United States to the eastern seaboard and Canada beyond that. My route to New York departs Arizona heading for New Mexico, followed by treks through Colorado, Kansas, Nebraska, Missouri, Iowa, Illinois, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and finally New York. As for the drive home, that is tentatively set for a long winding drive out of Maine and into New Hampshire, New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, West Virginia, Virginia, North Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, Arkansas, Texas, New Mexico, and finally back to Arizona. Twenty-three states in all, not counting our Canadian destinations.

Map showing the route from Maine to Phoenix

This will be a lengthy adventure meant to allow a substantial amount of time lingering on the way out and the way home, fulfilling one of my wishes of experiencing a slower side of America. Caroline would enjoy the same indulgence, but her allocated vacation allowance doesn’t allow that to happen. Yes, we have separation anxiety, yes, she’s a bit envious, and yes, I know that I have a ridiculous amount of privilege. Fortunately, I’m in a situation that allows this extravagance, and for that, I feel a certain obligation to meticulously record my observations to share the experience with Caroline to the extent that she can best feel that she was never far from me and can see that part of the adventure through my eyes.

Old People Suck, To a Large Extent

Image made with the assistance of ComfyUI

Here I am at age 61, by the measure of someone under 40, an old person, and for me, that means I’m part of the group of people who generally suck. The people who are averse to change, stuck in routines, creatures of habit, and detached from the zeitgeist. This is mostly true of those I encounter who have pushed into the mid to upper 50s and beyond, but obviously, not all.

Image made with the assistance of ComfyUI

Today, I became the 810,701st person to join the Pika Discord channel, though I’m the 75,180th member on Runway’s channel. What this means is that I’m late to the game. What game is that? It’s not the Olympics, baseball, football, or any other sport the masses obsess about. Pika and Runway are early leaders in the artistic text-to-image and image-to-image artificial-intelligence-driven generative video creation. These tools require me to refamiliarize myself with the processing side of things, looking at the next generation of GPUs from NVidia, NPUs from Intel and Qualcomm, and LPUs from Groq, promising to accelerate our race into AI. Then there’s the terminology such as LoRA (Low-Rank Adaptation), Diffusion Model, VAE (Variational Autoencoder), Checkpoints, GAN (Generative Adversarial Networks), ControlNet, NeRF (Neural Radiance Field), GPU Clouds, and new terms are emerging all the time.

Image made with the assistance of ComfyUI

Inherent complexity is certainly at the center of this emergent field of creativity, with pundits on the side lamenting whether machine-generated art, writing, music, or video even qualifies as such. That part of the conversation is a non-starter as it negates the fact that iterative stages of all tools hold the potential to disrupt the comfort of those who’d prefer to maintain the status quo. I believe the alarmist side of the story is most appealing to the elderly, who fear change and are reluctant to experiment with things. They fear embarrassment if they are not adept at bringing on new skills.

Image made with the assistance of ComfyUI

Along the way, I contend with those who want to insist that AI is a zero-sum game for humanity and will either fail or enslave and destroy us instead of simply being another tool that enhances how and what we people do. I suppose if one looks on from the observer’s point of view and listens to the talking heads trying to entice one’s senses to hysteria (since that’s what pulls the masses in), one might easily believe there is nothing of any lasting value in the scary futuristic world of human irrelevance. But if those same people could peer into an intricate node network of ComfyUI harnessing the community-driven tools of image manipulation or tune into trying Claude’s Sonnet, Meta’s Llama 3.1-405B, or Mistral Large 2 asking about the intersection of ideas between Thomas Pynchon, C.S. Lewis, and Oswald Spengler to see what thoughts these AI’s might inspire them to consider, they might see that humanity is opening a window to a deeper knowledge that could move culture forward in profound ways.

Image made with the assistance of ComfyUI

Almost daily, there are advancements in tool evolution regarding video, music, writing, research, vision systems, medical diagnosis, and other areas of augmenting intelligence and pattern recognition that benefit from deeper thinking, just as the mass of humans would be doing if they, too, were exploring complicated systems instead of banal entertainments that absolve them of stepping into the minefield of potential failure of comprehension.

Image made with the assistance of ComfyUI

But why am I picking on the elderly? Because I want co-conspirators in this exercise to fight against intellectual lethargy by turning over these brain cells in an attempt to maintain a semblance of plasticity in this aging gray matter in my head. Then, maybe instead of hearing their stupidity put on display in public as they speak of the dumbest shit imaginable, I’d be able to dip into their conversations and have them drop knowledge into my hungry mind. I have to thank social media and all of its ills for creating connections with those who are at the frontier of discovering and playing with things that are the furthest away from simple and easy. I’m not saying I always want to be mired in the trenches of difficulty, but the Marvel Universe, various television series, celebrity relationships, and political shenanigans are nothing more than distractions absolving the populace from advancing themselves.

Image made with the assistance of ComfyUI

At this moment, I’m in the discovery process of learning ComfyUI. The basics are starting to make sense, but only slightly, and now I can decipher what the image notes at Civitai mean when they reference which Checkpoint version the artist is using, the prompts, LoRA trigger words, the sampler used, how the seed lends variation and just what kind of time and broad thinking is being invested by these artists. Demons, fire, nymphs, buxom anime girls, cyborgs, and tons of fantasy stuff are abundant and grab the attention of many, but some incredibly intricate and seductively beautiful works of art start to shake the obvious AI influences. When I watched my first tutorial about ComfyUI, I thought it was complex. Now I recognize that the basics were just that, and there is a universe beyond those starting points that boggles my mind. On the one hand, I’m overwhelmed, while on the other, I know that as the pieces come together, these times where infinity entices me to go further will leave me wondering why I ever thought any of this was as difficult as I wanted to imagine.

Image made with the assistance of ComfyUI

I’m trying to say that the excitement is palpable, but the coherency of the objective must be kept in focus. With so many moving pieces in the intellectual process that’s driving activity, it’s often difficult to balance my interests. The initial thrill driving these explorations will fade, though I hope that should I acquire any new skills, I can utilize them to complement my current output. Regarding the prompt I utilized to have ComfyUI help me create this image, I’m at a loss as to how the mind of AI used its skills. I should also point out that all these images, except the last one, were created over the first week that I began learning to work with Stable Diffusion via the ComfyUI software, except for the last image of the blue mountains, which was made with Krita tied to ComfyUI.

Image made with the assistance of ComfyUI

And what about my original premise that old people suck? It’s not because they are old. I’m also old. It’s that, by and large, they are incredibly boring, stuck in routines I cannot understand. Someone recently asked me, “Do you have any friends?” Without skipping a beat, I told this person, “No, not really in the way I’d call someone a friend.” I explained the difficulty of being an outlier who can’t share small talk about television, movies, sports, cars, guns, the gym, my children, or investments. Many of the older people I talk with are retired or are working because they don’t know what to do with their time. I’d guess that they are bored with television, movies, sports, cars, guns, and the gym, but it’s the only life they’ve known aside from being parents or being a reflection of their careers. The problem is vanity and pride stop them from attempting to learn things where they’d risk showing themselves as amateurs. Instead, they’d rather remain in their lanes of superficial knowledge where they’ve gathered friends stuck in the same rut.

Image made with the assistance of ComfyUI

This post was growing as days went by where I’d not prepped the images for it due to various distractions, mostly AI stuff, and in the time since I began writing this, I’ve begun to understand how to paint in Krita with the help of ComfyUI and how to work with ComfyUI in Photoshop instead of being restricted with Adobe’s Firefly implementation. This is significant as a couple of weeks ago, I felt I wouldn’t be able to run these tools on my current laptop with its Nvidia RTX 3050 Ti and 4GB of VRAM, but while it’s slow, it works and has opened my explorations of the technology until I can acquire an RTX 5090 at the end of this year or early next year which will truly allow the capability of these complex interconnections to take flight.

Image made with the assistance of ComfyUI

I’ve lived through many milestone moments in the evolution of the personal computer industry, starting when the very first computers for consumers were sold. Then, in the 1980s, the first ideas of how these devices would harness multimedia gathered steam, such as when DPaint and Imagine 3D were released for the Amiga along with Desktop Publishing software called Quark on the Apple. Then, in the early 1990s, ProTools, Windows 3.0, Photoshop, and 3D Studio were catapults, but before being able to leave the 20th century, Windows 95 and the internet browser would change the world. Things stagnated for a bit, but with Windows 7, Adobe’s Creative Cloud, and smartphones, we were again being launched into a new world of the digital arts, with social media making its mark. A blip of virtual reality that went nowhere, along with blockchain technologies that are still widely misunderstood, came onto the scene. Today, AI is controversially evolving. Once again, we are at the cusp of a monumental shift when entire subcultures still outside the mainstream are adopting new technologies and language that will drift into common usage in the coming years. Still, for now, it is the bane of those who’ve heard the fear-mongering on the edges of this incredible technology.

AI Generated Mountains from Kria with ComfyUI

Having lived through these multi-generational changes since the 1970s, I’ve listened to the frightened yammerings of those afraid of great change, but here I am, fortunate enough to be alive to witness yet another seachange regarding the tools humanity has brought to bear. Not only do I get to watch the shift, but I’m also able to dabble with it all, maybe because I’m not too old and my level of suck hasn’t yet reached its zenith.

Addendum: Between the 21st and the 23rd of August, I learned more about the creation of LoRAs, but I’m leaving for vacation and won’t be able to focus on learning the process yet. When I return, I’ll have to find time to train a few, one on old family photos, another using the images we created when we were living in Germany making record and CD covers, and then one focusing on our travel photos, maybe one from the concert videos we shot back in the 1980s for that 4:3 grainy look of old TV.

Vagina Vitamins

Billboard for Vagina Vitamins in Phoenix, Arizona

This image was not generated in AI; it’s a real billboard in Phoenix, Arizona, that I wasn’t going to miss. As I don’t have my own vagina, I cannot know what vitamins would be necessary for such a thing, and Caroline hasn’t shared with me her regime of supplements for hers. Although, as I feel I’m rather observant (especially of that), I don’t believe it to be part of the German character to care if the old puss has gotten enough vitamin C this week. The sign does have me thinking back to 2007 when, traveling on the freeway, I photographed a billboard which had a Poop Doctor asking, “Are you as backed up as this traffic?” That was the first time I’d seen public advertising for constipation. How long (pun intended) before I see a billboard for Penis Minerals?

Aileen the Artist

Aileen Martinez in Phoenix, Arizona

How sweet are sweets from nice people who consider others when they travel? Today, it was my good fortune to meet up with Aileen Martinez after her return from a month of road-tripping from Banff, Canada, to Minnesota with dozens of stops in between; she’d thought of Caroline and me when shopping for dark chocolate in Chicago. Aileen is an artist I first met here at WeBe Coffee Roasters nearly a year or more ago. Since then, she’s traveled solo to Japan, where she collected impressive art supplies and amazing experiences. Another trip took her to Vancouver, and then there was one to Mexico, or was it two? Missing from this photo is fellow artist Jef Caine, who has found van life in the Arizona desert less than ideal. I don’t often share images of people I gravitate toward, but Aileen exercises an intentionality that embodies the kind of strength I find admirable.

Return To Being Not Out

Duncan, Arizona

There are times when a weekend lasts forever; those are likely tied to the amount of novelty crammed into these hours outside of routine. When the objective is to find isolation and relative familiarity to be quiet, explore stillness, and remove one’s self from distractions experienced at home, there is a contraction of time. As the moment of departure approaches for our return to Phoenix, there is a sense that our arrival was only hours ago, yet here we are about to leave. Even if we won’t get in our car for a few hours from now, the sense of things is such that closure is beginning, and the wait is only a reinforced effort to delay the inevitable.

Old Cemetery in Duncan, Arizona

In turn, we attempt to give purpose to the time that is spent lingering in place, and for us, that means heading out for a walk, though breakfast could have been an option at the local diner had we not already made arrangements with our hosts. Instead, we attract the barking of a dozen different dogs who might be sending mixed signals that we should either stay away or maybe come near to give them rubs and scratches. Dogs can be hard to read when teeth are glaring and their barking sounds ferocious, but then there are those wagging tails that suggest friendliness if you can get over the neurotic yammering of excitement. And so it was as a dog offered up its warnings, except this one wasn’t behind a fence. Something inside me said that this dog was all bluster, but inside was pure love, so I harkened for her to come over. Up she ran, dropping right between my legs, rolling over for belly rubs to suck up the attention.

Tombstone for Ida Ann Tipton at the Old Cemetery in Duncan, Arizona

Over at the old cemetery, there was nobody looking for attention, just a bunch of dead people contemplating the weight of earth resting upon their corpses. Many of the gravestones are now missing, the telltale sign of the mound the only reminder that there are bones below. This is Duncan’s oldest cemetery, as far as I know. As I have done at other times, I’m taking this opportunity to note that someone is remembering a person who may be long forgotten. Ida Ann Tipton was born on January 1, 1899, and sadly passed away only 43 days later on February 13, 1899. Her parents had the following engraved on the back of her tombstone: Another little lamb has gone. To dwell with Him who gave another little darling babe is sheltered in the grave. God needed one more angel child amidst his shining band. And so he bent with loving smile and clasped our darling’s hand.

Old Cemetery in Duncan, Arizona

The rocks and tombstones persist, while some random anonymous artifacts of those who’ve lived and died here in the Duncan area are the only tangible memories remaining in the local antique store. Those clues to others’ lives are bartered for cash, so the survivors are able to continue the economic engine that becomes the only threads that signify that they, too, once existed. How long before we become responsible for creating digital memorials of our ancestors? However, I could also see a mass erasure of a majority of those when future generations realize just how insipid their relatives were, and nobody would care that they had existed on propagandistic idiotic television, ate a poor diet, smoked, and drank too much.

Duncan, Arizona

It’s probably better that we all turn to dust and that everything decays and disappears. In our own time, the majority of us humans are already archaic, poorly educated cogs in a machine of exploitation that relies on qualities that leave us not as memorable people but easily forgotten fodder whose memory might continue on in the odd person or two though it’s just as likely our demise will simply go unnoticed. From the German brothers from Hanover, Germany, who gave us Clabber Girl Baking Powder seen on this relic of a sign from the 1940s, who nobody remembers anymore to Madam C.J. Walker, who some believe was the first self-made female millionaire in the U.S., making a fortune with her natural hair products for other black women, most contributions to humanity are long forgotten before the ink dries. We are all fading in and out of existence with nary a blink of an eye, but while we are here, we are at the center of a universe that is all about us.

Going Out, But Not Too Far

Duncan, Arizona

This shift of place on the map, which is about 10% of the distance between our home and Tybee Island, Georgia, on the Atlantic Coast, might suggest we are out to collect new experiences and the taking in sights that will dazzle our senses, but no, we are here to indulge in the full scope of exercising the doing of next to nothing. Absolute nothing could imply post-decay or post-cremation following the demise of our living selves, but we will attempt to take strides that will either appear glacial or at least indulgently slow. To this end, while we are walking the streets of Duncan (of which there are not many) if anyone else moving around in the early hours were to see us, we would drop into the children’s game called Statue (some might know it as Freeze). Like cats, we assume they can’t really see us when we stop moving.

Beetle with long shadow in Duncan, Arizona

Not willing to move the car to take us somewhere nearby we may have never been before, our choices are limited to walking out the front door of the hotel, turning left or right, and then navigating the options where our feet can carry us. North seems the logical direction as that’s where the most amount of nature is potentially taking place. The Gila River appears to be playing the same game of Statue as us because, with only a trickle of water in its channel as the monsoons haven’t yet contributed to its flow, it might be better to refer to it as the Muddy Gila Creek, about to seize into a solid at any moment.

Datura in Duncan, Arizona

With an abundance of toxic plants in bloom, such as members of the nightshade family and a few rather large datura specimens like this one, we walk in the cool morning air, appreciating the lively black and red ants, discarded mini-bottles of alcohol, a fragile beetle clinging to life (not the one pictured above this image), a solitary crane, and the occasional rumble of semi-trucks hauling something or other to the copper mine north of us.

Ant Lion in Duncan, Arizona

Never, prior to last month anyway, had we seen an ant lion, but here we are today, seeing our second one in hardly more than a couple of weeks. I think god is signaling to us that this is the time to play the lottery. However, my logical mind takes umbrage with that cockamamy idea and reminds me that it’s likely flying ant lion season during the summer and that Caroline and I don’t get out enough during this time of year in our surrounding deserts. And I answer that with, “Who in their right mind goes from one place that’s over 105 degrees (40 Celsius) to another that is just as hot?” Obviously, we have, and we must, because maybe twenty years ago, we could play the having-all-the-time-in-the-world card, seeing that mortality hadn’t raised its head yet. Now we know it’s now or never.

Tree of Heaven in Duncan, Arizona

Only because we are here in summer are we becoming acquainted with the Tree of Heaven. We’ve walked by these trees many a time, but displaying its samaras (seeds), it caught our eye in ways it never had before. At other times of the year, it sits there, growing out of the earth all woody and green leafy with nothing that says, look at me, nor does it say smell me. I added that because another name for this tree is stinking sumac, and should you try to eradicate this invasive species from your neighborhood, it becomes known as the Tree of Hell. Cut it down, and its roots will reroute the tree, foiling your efforts to remove this persistent plant.

Breakfast at Simpson Hotel in Duncan, Arizona

When Caroline and I were passing through for a couple of overnights back in April, I’d voiced that I’d love for Caroline to have the opportunity to sample Clayton’s version of eggs benedict using a dijonnaise instead of hollandaise, and so with that still in his memory, he was set up with the ingredients for exactly that this morning. I just searched my old posts and saw that I’d never mentioned this in posts about my visits earlier this year. A tragedy because the dish was well off the chart of amazing, and this morning delivered a perfect rendition of what I remembered. Stuffed, a trusty artificial intelligence informed me that the only relief to be found for this condition was to take a nap, and while there wasn’t a triclinium in sight, our bed worked just fine.

Caroline Wise in Duncan, Arizona

It’s now hours later with vague, fleeting images of moments of inactivity. Proper lunchtime had come and gone, and back then, I had been certain I was done eating until evening anyway. Apparently, I was wrong and could be convinced otherwise. Suffering from a sore backside being planted on a hardwood chair and running out of stuff to write about, a walk seemed in order, though my first thought was, why endure the heat of the day if it doesn’t arrive with some kind of reward for the effort? Choices involved the trusty Ranch House Restaurant, where we could share a little something before joining Deborah and Clayton once more for dinner, as we did last night, or we might dip into the ice cream shop that also offers sandwiches and occasionally burritos. Making these kinds of decisions on a weekend when we are practicing our Statue routine almost felt like too much effort. Then, only minutes later, we were sharing a toasted turkey, ham, and green chili sandwich at the River’s Roadside Cafe, and afterward, Caroline tried a scoop of their Oatmeal Cream Pie ice cream.

A Woodhouse Toad in Duncan, Arizona

Dark clouds have arrived, but the forecast says storms are a no-go for today. Darn, a bit of storming would have been a delight, pushing this weekend into perfection. Who am I fooling, though? Things were already perfect, except we were running a deficit of steps needed to make our exercise routine mostly complete, mostly because we’d still fall short, though not by much. Good thing our lack of drive was overcome because out on the wild streets of Duncan, we encountered a bunch of hungry woodhouse toads strolling the streets along with us while bats worked the skies, grabbing the insects the toads would never reach. As for Caroline and I, we don’t voluntarily make a habit of eating bugs, but when we do, they should be properly prepared in a succulent and tasty dish.