Forty years ago I was working for a litigation support firm in a high-rise in Century City. I heard about the Challenger exploding and rushed down to the bar & grill downstairs, where I knew they had a television.
Little did I know that a year later, almost to the day, I would begin working as a temp on the Space Shuttle Main Engine program, where I mostly did data input on the FMEA/CIL document (Failure Mode and Effects Analysis/Critical Items List) prior to the shuttle being certified to return to flight.
A year after that I was hired in as a regular employee. I accepted an early severance package and retired 23 years later. I’ve never lost track of the reality that such a tragedy turned into the best job I’ve had in my life. I still mourn the loss of those seven brave souls who were lost that day.
Rest in Peace:
Francis R. “Dick” Scobee (commander) Michael J. Smith (pilot) Ronald E. McNair Ellison S. Onizuka Judith A. Resnik Gregory B. Jarvis Sharon Christa McAuliffe.
The world according to Donald Trump is a kind of bargain-bin epic, but the real masterpiece is the fan club that keeps insisting it is hard-hitting non-fiction. At this stage, his separation from reality is less a “difference of opinion” and more a hard launch into an alternate dimension, yet his supporters gaze upon this rift in the fabric of truth and declare, “Yes, finally, someone who tells it like it isn’t.”
They are handed claims that collapse under the slightest contact with evidence—record-breaking crowds that weren’t, landslide victories that didn’t happen, conspiracies so vast they apparently include anyone who has ever read a document—and the reaction is not embarrassment, but enthusiasm. Each debunked story is treated not as a warning sign, but as a plot twist in their favorite show. Courts, investigations, and basic arithmetic all line up to say, “This is nonsense,” and the response is essentially, “Exactly what the villains would say.”
In this saga, Trump is both the almighty genius and the world’s most persecuted man, a flawless winner who somehow keeps being robbed, a champion of law and order who is, coincidentally, never supposed to be subject to it. His supporters nod along as if these contradictions are profound rather than incoherent. The more impossible the story, the more eagerly they embrace it. It is magical realism, minus the realism.
By now, nobody can reasonably claim they “just don’t know what’s true.” The pattern has been flashing in neon for years: lies dressed up as revelations, vindictiveness posing as strength, and constant attacks on any institution that dares to say, “That’s not how reality works.” To stick with him at this point is not an act of confusion; it is a lifestyle choice. It is the decision to treat facts as optional accessories and outrage as a core identity.
So the indictment is almost generous: Trump spins the fantasy, but his supporters keep the franchise alive. They supply the demand for delusion, renew the subscription to unreality, and call it patriotism while doing it. Whatever they tell themselves, they are not being “bold” or “independent thinkers.” They are simply choosing the comfort of a flattering fairy tale over the discomfort of the real world—and insisting the rest of society live inside that fairy tale with them.
I posted recently about how I’m using AI to help me manage my understanding of the medical information I receive from my doctor visits and from my Apple watch. I have been sharing the sleep graphic my watch and the Health app provide me each morning. This morning, there seemed to be a bit of a disconnect between the awake time the graph showed and the analysis that ChatGPT provided me.
So I decided to add screenshots of both my sleeping heart rate and respiratory rate graphs as additional information for AI to analyze. What I got was a more thorough analysis and an explanation of what my Apple watch actually measures in determining my sleep pattern. I learned that it’s quite possible for the watch to assume I’m awake after I arise at, say, 0230, to urinate (a condition referred to as nocturia) and that I could actually be going in and out of light core sleep. This aligned well with how I felt during that period. As a result, I am now going to share all three graphs each morning.
For anyone who doesn’t follow this blog, it’s probably useful for me to point out that I am living (struggling might be a better word) with numerous comorbidities, the progress of which I’m keenly paying attention to. In no particular order of importance, these are: Bradycardia, for which I had a pacemaker implanted not quite three years ago; Atherosclerosis and Essential Hypertension, for which I take several daily medications; COPD, for which I have a daily inhaler and a rescue inhaler; Stage 4 Chronic Kidney Disease, for which I have quit drinking alcohol entirely and watch my diet, and; Type II Diabetes with Proteinuria, which has been well controlled with diet.
I had been carrying the Hepatitis C virus for somewhere between 30 and 35 years with no symptoms until a couple of years ago when everything went haywire. I recently completed and 12 week regimen of Epclusa and currently am considered cured.
All to say, as I reach the culmination of my life I’m careful to do things that help me put off the inevitable for as long as possible. I still have 22 year-old and a 24 year-old daughters living with me and my wife, and I’d like to be around for at least a little while after their prefrontal cortices mature. At the same time, I’m constantly balancing the virtues of quantity of life against those of quality of life. I tend to think I’d rather enjoy the time I have left than miss out on some things because I’m worried it will shorten my already substantial length of time on this planet.
I have long known my father served in the U.S. Navy during WWII. He told me of his time as a Radioman 3rd class aboard the USS William H. Webb when it made the Murmansk Run to bring supplies to the Soviets. In fact, I have previously shared a photo of the certificate he was awarded when they crossed the Arctic Circle on that run. I only recently discovered he was part of a specialized detachment called the Armed Guard, something he never mentioned. A few days ago I asked Perplexity the following question. The response follows.
“What can you tell me about the U.S. Navy Armed Guard, especially wrt their service during WWII and on the Murmansk Runs?”
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The U.S. Navy Armed Guard was a specialized military detachment created during World War II to protect U.S. and Allied merchant ships from enemy threats, including submarines, aircraft, and surface warships. Composed mostly of gunners, signalmen, radio operators, and other support rates, these Navy personnel were assigned to civilian merchant vessels that otherwise lacked sufficient defenses—a response to the inability to provide enough dedicated naval escorts for all convoys.
WWII Service Overview
The Armed Guard served worldwide, especially where Allied shipping faced grave danger, such as the North Atlantic and Mediterranean. Gun crews ranged in size and were often led by junior officers, sometimes even senior petty officers when commissioned officers weren’t available. In total, over 6,200 ships were armed with such Navy detachments by the end of the war. Their hazardous role involved operating defensive armaments, standing watches, and sometimes training the civilian crews on weapons use.
The Murmansk Runs
On the notorious Murmansk Run, which entailed providing vital Lend-Lease aid by convoy to the Soviet Union, the U.S. Navy Armed Guard experienced some of the war’s most extreme and hazardous conditions. Sailors on these convoys braved long, perilous voyages through icy northern waters where they faced continuous threats from German U-boats, aircraft, and surface raiders, in addition to severe weather and extended periods of daylight or darkness.
The North Russia convoys—termed “Murmansk Runs”—were known for their high loss rates early in the war, with Armed Guard crews playing a crucial role in improving the defenses of these voyages. The Navy prioritized these routes by placing highly experienced gun crews and as much weaponry as could be spared aboard. As a result of their growing expertise and the improved ship defenses, losses were significantly reduced as the war went on—only 10 ships were lost out of more than 200 after the Allies refined their tactics and armament for these runs.
Role and Legacy
Service in the Armed Guard was considered both perilous and often overlooked—the “stepchildren” of the Navy, as many later described them, shouldering the defense of unheralded merchant convoys critical to Allied supply lines. Their contributions, especially on dangerous missions like the Murmansk Run, were essential to both Allied success and the survival of merchant mariners throughout WWII.
OK, your role is perhaps not as crucial to survival as that of Obi Wan Kenobi in the original Star Wars movie (now titled “A New Hope”), but yours is an important generation, especially given the current direction our country is headed. Gen Z, also known as iGen or post-Millennials, refers to the demographic cohort born between 1996 and 2010. As this generation reaches voting age, it is important for its members to understand the importance of participating in every election.
Voting is a fundamental right and responsibility of citizenship. It is a way for individuals to have a say in the direction of their country and to hold elected officials accountable. Through voting, Gen Z can influence the policies and laws that will impact their daily lives—from healthcare and education to the economy and the environment.
One of the most compelling reasons for Gen Z to vote is that this generation is uniquely affected by many current political issues. Climate change, for example, is a pressing concern for Gen Z, who will live with the consequences of today’s environmental policies far longer than older generations. Similarly, the high cost of education and the increasing burden of student loan debt disproportionately affect Gen Z. By voting, Gen Z can amplify their voices on these issues and advocate for policies that reflect their values and interests.
Another reason Gen Z should vote is that this generation is one of the most diverse in history, with a wide range of perspectives and experiences. By participating in the democratic process, Gen Z can ensure their diverse voices are represented in government and that policies address the needs and concerns of all members of society.
The decisions made by today’s elected officials will shape the future, so it is crucial for Gen Z to have a say. It is also important for Gen Z to vote to uphold democracy—the foundation of our country and something to be protected. It’s also worth noting that voting is not only a right but also a privilege in many countries. Many people have fought—and continue to fight—for the right to vote, so exercising that right honors their sacrifices.
However, voting is not the only way to make a difference. Gen Z can also engage in other forms of civic participation, such as volunteering, organizing, and advocating for change. But voting is essential to the democratic process and the most direct way to influence government policies and elected officials.
In the 2024 general election, youth turnout (ages 18-29) was approximately 47%, which, while higher than some previous years, remains lower than older generations’ turnout rates. Younger voters aged 18-19 turned out at around 41%, with significant disparities by race and gender within Gen Z. Overall turnout ranged from 58% for young white women to 25% for young Black men, underscoring significant inequities that voting and civic engagement can help address. Localized efforts have shown promise, such as in Philadelphia where 68% of 18-year-olds voted in 2024, exceeding overall turnout.
Make no mistake: Gen Z (as well as every other generation) need to vote in every election. It is their right and responsibility as citizens to shape the direction of our country. By voting, Gen Z can influence the policies and laws impacting their future, ensure their diverse voices are represented, and help direct the country’s future. Furthermore, it’s a way to honor the sacrifices of those who fought for the right to vote. It is time for Gen Z to step up and make their voices heard.
I have been using ChatGPT as a sort of medical/lifestyle partner/advisor for several months now. I created a project specifically for the purpose of sharing my vitals and other health related data, e.g. sleep patterns from my Apple watch, BP info from my weekly visits for Epoetin injections, weight and blood sugar measurements, as well as the results of blood tests, which Kaiser gives me access to.
When I arise in the morning, I get a nice graphical display of how much time I spend awake, in REM, in Core Sleep, and in Deep Sleep. All I do is take a screenshot from my phone and upload it to the project and it recognizes exactly what it is and incorporates the data into my overall health assessment.
Yesterday, I received the results from a CAT scan of my lungs. There was a plethora of medical terminology I am hardly familiar with. However, when I copied and pasted the results into my project, ChatGPT not only recognized what it was, but provided me with a layman’s analysis of each finding, the most important of which was the absence of cancer (whew!).
Anybody else using AI in a personally helpful way?
Fun fact about me. I was born with congenital talipes equinovarus, or club feet. I had my first cast put on my left foot (the worst one) when I was two days old. Since infants are growing at a somewhat accelerated pace, they generally have to put the casts on reasonably loose and they need to be changed frequently.
My First Cast
At some point in my early infancy I managed to kick this one off. My parents saved it and I still have it, I think in the garage. I believe the one inscription you can read from this photo says, “Don’t let this stop you, Ricky. Keep kicking,” from a couple who have disappeared into the mists of time.
I ultimately had surgery on my left foot—my right foot straightened out with casts and corrective shoes—when I was five. When I enlisted in the US Navy in the Spring of 1966, it was the scars from the surgery that caused me to fail my physical. However, I argued that marching was something they did in the Army, not the Navy, and I was inducted.
Later, I found out marching was actually a very large part of Naval boot camp (it’s one way they build unit cohesiveness) and there also was a position our company commander would put us in called five and dive that put a great deal of strain on my ankle and shortened Achilles tendon.
When I went to sick bay to see if they could help me deal with the pain I was enduring, an x-ray discovered arthritis. I was offered a discharge, which I originally refused. However, the pain made it extremely difficult to keep up with my company and, to a man, my fellow recruits and several officers convinced me to take the discharge.
Two days later I accepted the offer and within a week I was on my way home. My DD214 says I was in the Navy for 1 month and 23 days and that I was awarded the National Defense Service Medal. Although I believe I could have made a ruckus and gotten at least some veteran’s benefits, I chose not to, believing there were others who needed it far more than I did. Because I was in for so short a period of time, I hardly refer to myself a veteran. I’ve never regretted my decision, though my foot has hindered me my entire life.
Claiming that America today is equivalent to 1930s Germany is both historically shallow and strategically counterproductive. Nearly a century has passed since Adolf Hitler rose to power amid the wreckage of World War I, a global depression, and the collapse of the Weimar Republic. Germany in the 1930s was a humiliated, war-torn, economically devastated nation with no democratic tradition, no cultural resistance to totalitarianism, and no institutional muscle memory to prevent the consolidation of absolute power. The U.S., by contrast, has nearly 250 years of democratic infrastructure, a robust culture of dissent, a decentralized federal system, and a Constitution designed precisely to resist authoritarian overreach.
Moreover, the social, technological, and informational ecosystems are radically different. The 1930s lacked the internet, social media, whistleblower protections, or investigative journalism at scale. Today, every abuse of power can be documented, disseminated, and debated within minutes. We are not helpless—we are connected and aware in ways that were unimaginable in interwar Europe.
That said, dismissing authoritarian threats altogether would be just as naïve. We face unique 21st-century dangers: digital disinformation, polarization, and demagogues exploiting modern platforms. But invoking Hitler or the Nazi regime too loosely dilutes the specificity of that horror and numbs people to its actual warning. Let’s confront today’s threats on their own terms, with courage rooted in history, not hysteria.
Systems Savvy 