A photo of a snowman wearing a scarf and a Sierra Nevada Celebration T-shirt is displayed in Stateline, Nev., on Dec. 14, 2013.
While I have lived in cooler climes for about 20 years or so, I was never big on scarves. I was rarely outdoors for extended periods of time, so they just seemed like extraneous fabric. The first scarf I recall buying was primarily a prop for a Christmas card photo in 2013.
My attitude gradually shifted over time, especially as I dove into soccer fandom. I now have one practical scarf and about eight decorative scarves.
I do appreciate a scarf’s ability to help keep part of my body warm, but there aren’t necessarily lots of opportunities to wear the fashion accessory outside of a handful of soccer matches and some of the cooler days during the year.
That changed this year as I started writing in a brand-new 18-month journal for 2023-24. After mostly finishing another similarly lengthy chronicle, I’ve found the tome can be awkward to write in. I have long sought objects to help angle the book just so to make it easier to write in.
Enter the utilitarian scarf.
Instead of hunting down a box or random book to help prop up my journal, I can wear my scarf wherever I go so it will always be at the ready when inspiration (or what counts for it, in my case) strikes me.
A folded scarf helps prop up a part of a journal at Salt Lake City’s Main Library on May 17, 2026.
I think it may look a little odd for me to wear a scarf to random places — it might give off the mostly true impression that I’m a really big fan of certain soccer teams. The fabric does help my shoulders to feel a little warmer at times.
In addition to convenient portability, the scarf offers wonderful flexibility in supporting my journal. One side of the book often needs to be lifted higher than the other. The solution is simplicity itself — one folds the scarf as many times as is needed to reach the appropriate height.
Douglas Adams once wrote in “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” about the utility of always bringing a towel. I can definitely see the versatility of the towel, but a scarf offers a little more panache.
It may surprise you to know that I am not a fashionista. I do wear “fast fashion” — clothes that I can put on quickly, although perhaps not as quickly as Mark Zuckerberg and his famous supply of hooded sweatshirts.
Despite my laissez-faire approach to my wardrobe, I was intrigued by Google Photos’ recent feature that catalogs your clothing and then allows you to try on outfits in a virtual dressing room.
I gave it a shot, but … stop me if you’ve heard this before about what we’re calling artificial intelligence … the feature had some pitfalls in initial setup and then assembled a virtual outfit that gave me a mobility aid that I don’t need.
It was easy to turn on the wardrobe feature, but it took about five days for the app to provide any results. The requirements for using this feature seemed reasonable. According to a Google Photos help page, the feature currently requires a user to have Face Groups (facial recognition) turned on and have more than 1,000 photos of themself.
There are some other requirements, including being located in either Brazil, India or the United States. It also appears that initial rollout went to Google AI Pro and Ultra subscribers and then to “other select users.”
I guess I was among the “other select users” when I found the feature on my recently acquired Pixel 10 Pro. Although I try to use AI elements sparingly because I appreciate human creativity (in addition to other moral and ethical concerns), I was tempted to see what Google Photos could come up with.
I turned on the wardrobe feature.
And waited.
After the five or so days, Google Photos was able to display all the items it was able to identify me wearing. It was a bit underwhelming.
A Google Photos screenshot shows some of the 18 articles of clothing identified by the Google Photos AI, including glasses, two hats, pants, a hoodie and a jersey.
Out of the 2,001 tagged photos I initially thought Google Photos scanned (more on that later), the app identified me wearing just 18 items —
a pair of glasses
a pair of curling shoes
a pair of pants
a T-shirt
one button-up shirt
two sports uniforms
three baseball caps
three jackets/sweatshirts
five polo shirts
The fact that Google Photos’ AI was able to extract these items from my photos is fascinating. The generated replicas range from spot on to only slightly off. It gave me some glee to see my clothing rendered as standalone items like they would be in an online store or catalog. All that was missing was a “Buy now” button.
The app actually handled most logos well — usually a massive and glaring shortcoming for AI. Most logos for Oval Curling Club, Real Salt Lake and the Utah Royals appeared to be accurate, although zooming in on some text displayed some of that ol’ fashioned AI greeking. It also gave up trying to render the USA Curling logo on a ball cap, omitted the Michelob red ribbon on another hat and goofed on the rendering of the wording on the Southern California Curling Center logo.
Additionally, Google Photos’ AI screwed up a couple pieces of clothing. In real life, the Real Salt Lake jersey featured a checkerboard pattern across the front, but Google Photos only caught a portion of it.
Likewise, an Oval Curling jersey was designed to feature a mountain motif with colors lightening as one moves up the shirt. For some reason, Google Photos reversed that on the short-sleeve jersey but got it mostly right on the jacket.
What’s missing
I have more than 18 pieces of clothing, so why didn’t Google Photos find other items (likely shirts) among the 2,001 tagged photos of me?
It is worth noting that Google Photos _didn’t_ analyze all 2,001 photos of me. The support page notes that the app will only scan photos taken within the last four years. Suddenly, that 2,001 becomes a much smaller 417 photos.
My working theory is that the vast majority of those photos are candid photos, geared to capture me and others in the moment. I tend not to take a lot of selfies or overly posed photos, especially not those that would clearly show my whole body and what I’m wearing.
As an example, here are some photos I took of myself at some events in March and April. Most of the shots are close-up shots from the shoulders up. I do have some wide shots, but those are usually in groups or in front of a unique backdrop.
A Google Photos screenshot shows recent photos featuring the author. Nearly all of the shots are close-ups, although two are wide shots in front of a unique curling backdrop.
Perhaps the feature would be more useful for those people who post their looks to Instagram on a near-daily basis. I can envision Google Photos having an easier time picking out possible articles of clothing from those sorts of photos.
Fashion show! Fashion show! Fashion show online!
Despite the lackluster crop of clothing, I was interested to see what it would be like to virtually try on an outfit.
I was a little disappointed to find that Google Photos wouldn’t recommend any specific outfits. I was hoping that the app would make some suggestions to help me rock the runway, like a personal edition of the old TV show “What Not to Wear.”
Alas, the “Outfits” feature allows you to pick items from the wardrobe but there’s no guidance. Even if Google Photos wouldn’t automatically generate a specific “look,” it might be nice to have the app make suggestions while the user is picking out items, like “don’t wear Crocs with a tuxedo” or “orange camo is not necessarily a good fit for a beach party.”
I could picture a “outfit advisor” similar to Google’s “Camera Coach” feature for the Pixel 10 Pro that uses its Gemini AI to analyze a photo preview to offer recommendations on the type of shot to take.
For my first outfit attempt, I picked glasses, pants and the RSL jersey. Once you save a specific outfit, Google Photos gives you the option to “try it on,” but warns that “results may be unexpected.”
Boy howdy, they weren’t kidding about the unexpected results.
Google Photos’ first attempt to use generative AI to depict an avatar of the author wearing a virtual outfit, including a forearm crutch that the author doesn’t use.
The virtual dressing room assembled the outfit competently on a virtual representation of me. Everything looked pretty accurate, including my freckles on my arms, awkward facial expressions and being just a bit overweight. There was one glaring exception …
The AI outfitted my left arm with a forearm crutch — something I don’t need and have never been photographed using.
I found the situation amusing and puzzling, even while I paused to consider the ramifications of the app showing people using mobility aids. It’s far too common for popular culture to try to make disabled people and their situations invisible. It’s interesting that the Google Photos programming chose to render an assistive device (one that is typically used for longer-term care in the United States).
When I initially shared the rendering with Facebook friends, I suggested that the Google Photos AI may have analyzed photos of me holding a curling broom but incorrectly identified it as a crutch.
I tried a couple of different outfits to see what the AI would generate. One didn’t feature me holding anything at all, but a final rendering depicted me holding a curling broom!
It took three tries, but Google Photos finally got it right.
(As an aside, if you don’t select enough apparel, Google Photos will render clothing so your virtual self isn’t “Donald Ducking It” without pants.)
Will a virtual wardrobe contribute to the end of the world?
A later attempt by Google Photos to use generative AI to depict an avatar of the author wearing a virtual outfit more accurately shows the author holding a curling broom instead of an assistive device.
Ultimately, this wardrobe feature may be Google trying to find a useful application of so-called artificial intelligence. Part of the debate on AI adaption is developing beneficial features that the general public would want to use.
The other side of the debate are the ethical and moral ramifications of using the technology. I typically tend to favor the belief that technology is inherently neutral, but its applications can be good, evil or somewhere in between.
I don’t personally mind using large-language models to analyze my writing (going all the way back to IBM’s Watson), but I wouldn’t use it to generate stories or images based on my works. As someone who worked to report and present factual information, I’m also concerned about AI uses that generate falsehoods or harass people.
Also, companies’ push to encourage AI adoption en route to possible profitability appears to be leading to some questionable uses at considerable economic, environmental and social costs.
I think it’s important to highlight these dubious developments, which is why I started sharing “Adventures in AI” with links to stories on my former employer’s Slack workspace.
At the end of the day, being able to virtually don clothes in Google Photos is a mildly interesting use of generative AI. I don’t know what the economic and environmental costs of the technology are, but I don’t see it having a steep social cost given that feature is limited to the specific user.
I don’t necessarily think it’s something I would use a lot although it might be interesting to try on outfits that I don’t already own.
When it comes to dressing to the nines, I would give the Google Photos wardrobe feature a two out of four.
(Featured image: A screenshot from the Google Photos app on a Chromebook shows the option for the user to see their virtual wardrobe.)
An AI-enhanced image of downtown Salt Lake City at 50x zoom as seen from Kearns High School on Saturday, June 27, 2026.
I was excited to unbox the Pixel 10 Pro last week, especially as the defective screen on my Pixel 7 was detaching for the third time. I was eager to try out the new-to-me triple camera setup, which I think lived up to expectations based on some of the photos I took Saturday at the Eccles 2002 Olympic Winter Games Museum at the Utah Olympic Park in Park City.
A replica of a 2002 Olympics bronze medal is displayed at the Eccles 2002 Olympic Winter Games Museum at Utah Olympic Park in Park City on Saturday, June 27, 2026.
A close-up photo of a pin commemorating the unveiling of the 2002 Winter Olympics mascots on display at the Eccles 2002 Olympic Winter Games Museum at Utah Olympic Park in Park City on Saturday, June 27, 2026.
I shot these photos through glass-covered display cases, which can reflect some pretty nasty glare. I thought I was using the 5x telephoto lens but it appears I was using the main lens. However, the main camera allowed me to get close to the medals, pins and other objects while allowing me to find angles to downplay the glare.
On my old phone, I used the heck out of the 2x zoom feature (which simply cropped in on a 1x photo without any further digital manipulation). I’m looking forward to getting tighter action shots with the 5x telephoto lens.
I’m not likely to use another feature that Google touted for the new Pixel 10 Pro — the Pro Zoom feature, which promises photos up to 100x zoom. This feature supposedly works because Google sends the raw image through its AI to extrapolate and enhance the image.
My initial finding is that this feature is half-baked and more likely to replace a blurry, grainy image with a simulated nightmare reminiscent of computer-generated images from at least a decade ago. Even worse, the feature tries to substitute imagery that the algorithm supposes is there, but it introduces fake and misleading information. For example, when I tested the feature at Best Buy, the Pro Zoom feature was able to sharpen a brand name on a distant box, but introduced literal Greeking in place of smaller text it couldn’t fully scan.
Coming back from curling on Saturday, I was drawn into the parking lot of Kearns High School with its view of the Salt Lake Valley from the west. I wanted to see how much the Pixel 10 Pro’s cameras could push into downtown Salt Lake City over 10 miles away.
I started with the wideangle lens and the 1x zoom on the main camera, but they don’t show too much detail of the distant urban core. I saw better results with the 2x zoom and the telephoto lens at 5x.
Even at 2x zoom, downtown looked too distant. The 5x lens definitely added a lot of detail and might be usable with some additional cropping.
Things got dicier when I pushed the digital zoom on the 5x lens and Google added what should be AI magic. The image at the beginning of this post is at about 50x. It’s a little blurry with some computer artifacts, but most landmarks are still recognizable. It does appear that Google’s AI replaced part of the rotunda dome atop the Capitol with the foothills behind it.
I kept pushing in, up to 100x, as I tried to make out the Salt Lake Temple in the heart of downtown.
For reference, this is a photo from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints showing what the temple looks like.
Google took the raw image, ran it through AI and came up with … something not even close to the Salt Lake Temple —
An AI-enhanced image of downtown Salt Lake City purportedly at 100x zoom taken from Kearns High School on Saturday, June 27, 2026. The spires are supposed to be the Salt Lake Temple, but it doesn’t match the building’s true appearance.
This is a mess and epitomizes the phrase “AI slop.” The spires in the center of the image look more like poorly rendered Buddhist temples from Asia. The overall effect of the zoomed-in image feels like image textures applied to 3D objects in older computer games, like SimCity 4.
I also tried to zoom in on what I thought was Rice-Eccles Stadium at the University of Utah. The result did _not_ look like a stadium, but rather some low-slung buildings took the place of stadium seats behind the building’s main facade. To be fair, the angle from Kearns made it a little tricky make out the stands.
I’ve been ambivalent about digital zoom on cameras and phones for years as it can’t add information beyond what the camera sensor captures. Over the years, companies like Google have used computational computing to enhance images (although part of this tech often merges multiple, slightly different versions of an image to come up with an ideal overall photo).
While mere digital zoom can’t add info, Google and other companies are attempting to use AI to filling in missing details but the initial results leave much to be desired.
Every time there is a major technological advance, there is often a debate on how to maintain journalistic ethics. For example, how much can one use Photoshop on an image while maintaining its authenticity? Some image toning is generally OK, but cutting out a subject and placing it over another background would be a no-no unless it clearly looks like an illustration and is clearly labeled.
The ability to use what we call AI to spin images and videos out of whole cloth has sparked new debates. However, I don’t see a debate for now with Pro Zoom or similar tech — these poorly generated images bear little semblance to reality and should not be used in news reporting or at all.
That might change with future advances, but Pro Zoom doesn’t appear to be anywhere close to being usable for now.
A station log dated Friday, May 20, 2016, is placed atop the control board for Northstate Public Radio in Chico, Calif. The log includes notes marking the author’s last shift for the station.
Wednesday marked the 10th anniversary of my final “Evening Jazz” broadcast for KCHO, or North State Public Radio. Of all the things I did in my final days in Chico, this stands out the most as I look back a decade later.
Part of it might be because I’ve been listening recently to archived Jazz Fest broadcasts from WWOZ. Those sets have really satisfied my love for live music and the New Orleans sound. One day, I must get to NoLa (and London and Tokyo …)
That final broadcast wrapped up a student and community broadcasting tenure covering nearly 14 years — two at KSDT while at UC San Diego, four in Michigan for WMTU and about eight for KCHO. I started as a student disc jockey in San Diego and then volunteered to be a community DJ for WMTU student radio and was ultimately a community volunteer for the NPR member station in Chico.
I always liked the thought of my voice and music selections going out to a geographic area the size of Ohio. That was for North State Public Radio. The smallest footprint was probably going out over college dorm powerlines for KSDT (which was also available over cable in San Diego County, but you needed an adapter to filter out the FM signal).
From my earliest broadcasts at the Old Student Center to my final show in a studio by the banks of Big Chico Creek, I really liked the idea of using my shows to explore the world of music with the late focus on jazz and blues with “Evening Jazz” during the week and sometimes “Blues People” on Saturdays. I hope I was able to impart my joy at this course of discovery with listeners. It was always fun when they called in.
(A rare exception is when I went slightly off format for an April Fools’ Day episode of “Evening Jazz,” where I aired tracks with the artists’ names starting with every letter of the alphabet from A-Z. That led to an angry listener response to my programming director. The listener thought I was somehow being lazy — although finding ideal tracks from artists that followed the alphabet was actually more challenging than a regular show.)
All these years later, I still miss radio, but I think curling has taken over as my non-professional pastime. I still have the opportunity to get behind a mic when I do play-by-play commentary for regional curling tournaments, but it’s not the same.
There was just something enjoyable about getting to the station early to roam the tall shelves of CDs and vinyl to pull out discs that caught my ear. If there was time, I would put a disc in the CD player and listen to get a sense of what the album was about.
A selection of CDs pulled for possible play during an episode of “Evening Jazz” on Friday, Jan. 2, 2015, in Chico, Calif.
On a good night, I could pull out twice as many albums as I had time to get on the air. That doesn’t include listener requests that I would do my best to track down and broadcast, even if the song didn’t fit the flow of the show. However, what’s jazz without a little syncopation?
I did have my favorites, but I hope that I didn’t overplay them. I did try to mix them up while also trying to rationalize that any particular track was just a couple minutes in a two- or three-hour program.
The final show
My last edition of “Evening Jazz” was pretty much all favorites, reflecting my years of spinning tunes. (The program had a stable of volunteer DJs, so the show continued after my departure).
As I recall, we were asked to arrive early to get ready to go on the air. Sometimes, I would arrive before this time and have a chance to focus on my musical selections. It was easier on Fridays when we often had a national program airing at 9 p.m. and I was only responsible for doing a couple of reads during that hour before hosting a two-hour local program.
For my final Friday (which had become a three-hour show), I arrived close to on time but it was the end of a hectic last day at my day job (which I quit!) where my coworkers took me out to lunch and said good-byes. In between all that, I was trying to write stories and clean my desk. I ended up working through the weekend to get everything done.
When I arrived at the station, I asked the other person on duty if there was a way to record the program. I used to occasionally record the livestream at home, but the app had stopped working and I didn’t have time to find another solution.
Unfortunately, the staffer didn’t know how to set up the recording so my last episode would just exist on the airwaves. I was bummed but resigned to the reality of the situation.
I gathered the albums I wanted to play. I started the show with Kermit Ruffins’ “Hello Good Evening,” which was how I often began my “Evening Jazz” broadcasts before changing it up after a while.
As I went on the air, I went to sign the station log and noticed that there were personalized messages thanking me and wishing me luck. I was touched and reminded of how much my service was appreciated by the station staff.
My playlist, linked below, covered the various eras of jazz that caught my ear over the years. Some of them were standards, but some of them were novelty songs that made me laugh, such as “A Hot Dog, a Blanket and You.”
Ultimately, not all of the songs were five stars, but I wanted to play and hear every track that got on the air — and that applied to every broadcast I did. During breaks, I recalled some of my broadcasting history and musical journey going back to San Diego. I also reflected on some of my broadcast influences, including “The Desoto Hour” on Georgia Tech’s WREK and all of the broadcasts on WWOZ.
As my time on the air wound down, I picked out a couple of songs that I felt echoed the journey I was about to undertake to my new job in Utah. Those songs included Vince Guaraldi’s “Cast Your Fate to the Wind” and a Mo’ Horizons cover of “Hit the Road Jack.”
It was great fun spinning tunes, reading public service announcements while timing songs to ensure there was enough time to play the national anthem before turning things over to the BBC World Service at precisely midnight.
In a weird quirk, nearly all of my shows either marked the start of the station’s live broadcast day or the end. Broadcast stations used to air a patriotic song to mark either the start or end of the day. That was something I paid homage to, even as nearly every station moved to airing 24/7. In later years, I would often play a Duke Ellington version of “The Star-Spangled Banner,” which I felt fit the jazz format.
Ultimately, I wish there was a way to convey the joy and contentment I nearly always felt during and after my show.
Ten years later, I would love to get back into broadcasting, but I don’t think I have the time with work and curling. There was a job posting for a classical music station in Arizona that caught my eye (and an operations manager post for a jazz station in Iowa), but they’re not something I can pursue right now.
Quotes from the film “The Big Lebowski” are displayed on a wall at Lucky Strike San Francisco on King Street in San Francisco on Saturday, Oct. 3, 2015.
Facebook apparently introduced an update recently that streamlines some of the info displayed on profiles. Unfortunately, it seems that the “Quotes” section was removed.
I don’t think many people used it (or viewed it), but I liked having a space for some words from inspiring people, like Asimov, Fey and Lincoln.
I also put one of my favorite lines on the space — “Curling is a game of sportsmanship and honor. Like golf … minus the cheating.”
Here are some of my favorite quotes that I used to have on the since-removed quotes page on Facebook —
“Curling is a game of sportsmanship and honor. Like golf … minus the cheating.” — Me
“If liberty means anything at all it means the right to tell people what they do not want to hear.” — George Orwell (Unpublished preface to “Animal Farm”)
“So here’s some advice I wish I would have got when I was your age … Live every week, like it’s shark week.” — Tracy Jordan (“30 Rock”)
“Compromises are for lesser souls. Die, werewolf-zombie.” — Liz Lemon (“30 Rock”)
“With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation’s wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan — to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves, and with all nations.” — Abraham Lincoln (Second Inaugural Address)
“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines! Sail away from safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover!” — H. Jackson Brown (and NOT Mark Twain)
“Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent” — Salvor Hardin (“Foundation”)
“It is not possible to be in favor of justice for some people and not be in favor of justice for all people. Justice cannot be divided.” — the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.
“Spock, I’ve found that evil usually triumphs – unless good is very, very careful.” — Dr. Leonard McCoy (“Star Trek”)
“Never be cruel, never be cowardly. And never ever eat pears! Remember – hate is always foolish … and love is always wise. Always try to be nice and never fail to be kind.” — The Doctor (“Doctor Who”)
“Life is brief; fall in love, maidens” — translated lyric from “Gondola no Uta” (or “The Gondola Song”)
A view of downtown Vancouver, British Columbia, looking across Coal Harbour from Stanley Park on Sunday, March 22, 2026.
I visited the Pacific Northwest in March as part of a curling trip to Vancouver, British Columbia. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I was prepared for it to be cool and damp.
My initial travel to the area from Seattle to Vancouver seemed to confirm my suspicions — there was light drizzle in Seattle and that seemed to continue when my train arrived at Pacific Central Station.
First impressions can be deceiving. After that first night back in Canada, there was nothing but sunshine and mostly moderate temperatures until I took the bus back to the grey gloom of Seattle.
Take a look at one of my early Vancouver photos and one as I was leaving four days later.
It was my first visit to Western Canada. Vancouver impressed me on nearly every level as a cosmopolitan city akin to San Francisco or Seattle with distinct and gorgeous landscapes from Queen Elizabeth Park to Stanley Park. They also seem to be big on rooftop patios and gardens, which I found to be delightful.
Despite my mostly positive impression, there were three events that reminded me that not everything is perfect. While one event may have been the result of long-term societal issues, I don’t view my experience as some sort of indictment against how the city or province are governed.
One was an indirect interaction on my last night in the city. I was on the hunt for some interesting seafood and I initially headed toward the east side of the city via bus before I realized I didn’t really want to go to that specific restaurant.
Seeking to head back downtown, I hopped off the bus on Hastings Street near Main Street and crossed the street to catch a westbound bus.
Hastings Street unfortunately had signs of abject poverty and homelessness that were largely absent in the other parts of the city I visited. The number of people apparently living permanently in tents on the street was to the point where I felt uncomfortable as nighttime fell. I would probably not want to bring friends or family without precautions.
I will note that no one approached me, so I can’t say how the people were. I was also briefly tempted to check out one establishment that was running a karaoke night.
On another day, I was waiting for a bus after visiting a currency exchange. As I was sitting on a bus bench while wearing a USA Curling ballcap, a man sat down next to me and very shortly thereafter asked “Why don’t you go back to the United States?”
My response was pretty simple: “I was invited to be here” for the curling event.
After that brusque introduction, the man reflected that he had dual citizenship between Canada and the United States but he didn’t have a U.S. passport. It also turned out that the mother’s side of his family was from northern Utah, and he seemed to harbor a little bitterness toward his late mother for bringing her family to Canada. I was sympathetic, especially as there are things that we would want to say to a loved one but couldn’t when they were alive.
Eventually the bus arrived and we boarded at the same time.
Given his other interaction on the bus (loudly asking if a bus pass he found belonged to anyone), this man appeared to be a little awkward in public but seemed harmless. I could envision myself in his shoes to a point.
The third incident that stood out was when I riding another bus (or maybe SkyTrain). A man in front of me sneezed about three times.
After the first time, I said “Bless you.” After the second sneeze, I said “You only get one,” in a dumb reference to a “Family Guy” joke that got a laugh once so I keep trying it from time to time. I said “Bless you” again after the man’s third sneeze.
However, the man didn’t seem comforted, repeatedly saying that it was “too late” for him. He sounded down, and I was at a loss for words.
While “Bless you” generally implies the invocation of God or similar deity, that was uncomfortable ground for me to stay on in my response to this person who seemed to be in need. While many faiths assert that it’s never too late to find salvation with their deity, I didn’t feel it was my place to make such a claim.
My response was something along the lines of “We can wish each other goodwill.”
That response seemed incomplete but it was the first thing that came to mind.
Even if one doesn’t believe in a superior being, I found it deeply sad for someone to believe it’s “too late” to find some sort of grace, acceptance, redemption or just peace in this world.
If I had a second chance to speak with this man, I would’ve said that it was never “too late” to find some purpose or fulfillment in life.
A couple of quotes bolster my line of thought, including Teddy Roosevelt saying “Far and away the best prize that life offers is the chance to work hard at work worth doing.”
The TR quote contains a certain amount of inspiring industriousness and bold purpose yet also underscores that the worthwhile work is a reward unto itself. On the other hand, it does seem incomplete given how important friends and family are.
The other example that comes to mind is an underlying thesis of “The Good Place,” a TV comedy that initially focuses on a woman named Eleanor Shellstrop who finds herself placed by mistake in a heaven-like afterlife and ultimately decides to work to earn her place with the help of her friends.
The TV series had many developments that shouldn’t be spoiled, so I will simply say that, during the third season episode “Jeremy Bearimy,” there was a point where Eleanor and her friends learned something that prevented them from making any further progress and would ultimately condemn them to The Bad Place, the horrendous-but-not-exactly-hell final destination in the show’s universe.
Over the course of the episode, Eleanor and her friends have different reactions to this life-altering news. These reactions fall along different ethical theories including virtue ethics, consequentialism, deontology and nihilism. (Those theories are also explored in the nonfiction book “How to Be Perfect,” written by the series creator Michael Schur.)
Ultimately, Eleanor convinces her friends to accept that their fates are set, but they can work to do good and help their friends and families — whose fates haven’t yet been determined.
“Why not try?” Eleanor said. “It’s better than not trying, right?”
In his book, Schur goes into considerable detail about many ethical theories but reaches a conclusion in the coda in the form of a letter to his young children on using the wisdom from these ideas to make better decisions.
“Though their ideas vary widely, they’re all based on the simple concept that who we are and what we do matters,” Schur wrote. “That we should care whether we’re doing something good or not, and thus try to do the best things we can.”
Despite the book’s title, Schur acknowledges that people aren’t perfect but we can learn from mistakes, keep improving and do the best we can.
I know I’ve fallen short in a lot of things in my life, including trying to find words of comfort to someone in need on a bus or railcar. However, as long as I can keep trying (and have the wisdom to know I should keep trying), I feel like I’m moving in the right direction.
A nighttime photo of the exterior of Broadway Centre Cinemas in downtown Salt Lake following the screening of “BURN,” the final show of the Sundance Film Festival in Utah on Monday, Feb. 2, 2026.
The Utah era of the Sundance Film Festival came a close just before 2 this morning following the final screening of the 2026 event — Makoto Nagahisa’s “Burn” at the Broadway Centre Cinemas. I snapped this pic leaving the theater.
I don’t think the screening sold out, but the house seemed close to full. Many in the audience were appreciative that these were the festival’s final moments in Utah, shouting “Thank you, Bob!” at the tribute reel and giving one last hurrah for the festival before the film.
The staff member introducing the picture acknowledged the moment and took a selfie with the crowd.
There wasn’t much pomp following the film, which I found to be quite engaging. I did say thank you to staff and volunteers on my way out.
Part of me was wondering if there would be more attention placed on these final moments, but it seemed fitting for things to end with the credits rolling and some audience members engaging in individual conversations on what they thought about the film.
Over the years, I was really only able to attend about two screenings a year starting in 2017 before taking a huge pause after COVID. I came back this year to see “Hot Water” and “Burn.”
I definitely appreciated all the creativity and spark the festival, filmmakers and other creators, volunteers, filmgoers, organizers and more brought to this state. I know showbiz is about business, but I enjoyed sharing this ongoing and joyous celebration of all things cinema as part of the decades-long effort to foster and grow independent film. Being at Sundance every year never failed to bring a smile to my face.
A lot of us will be parting ways as the festival moves to Colorado, while acknowledging that much of the institute’s work will continue in Utah.
Even as this chapter ends, there is excitement about Boulder. Several of the volunteers said they were planning on following the festival to its new digs. I’m not sure if I’ll make the jaunt over the Rockies to attend.
Just as all movies end, the Sundance festival’s time in Utah has faded to black. Unlike most movies, there will be a sequel.
So, farewell for now. We’ll meet again, I don’t know when but we do know where.
A microphone is pictured in front of the control board in the main studio of KCHO Northstate Public Radio on May 20, 2016, in Chico, Calif
Season’s greetings to one and all!
In all the years that I spun jazz and blues tunes as a volunteer DJ for Northstate Public Radio, I always enjoyed including holiday songs in my December playlists. Not wanting to overdo the festive tuneage all month long, I would start gradually after Thanksgiving with a song or two per episode and then gradually ramp up to a nearly all holiday song playlist in my last program before Christmas.
An example of this is my Christmas “Evening Jazz” episode from Friday, Dec. 20, 2013, as you can see in the provided playlist below from Spotify:
Thanks to an old playlist database that I saved, I was able to find the tracks from that evening to share in time for Christmas 2025. There are two song substitutions because Spotify didn’t have the tracks for “Feliz Navidad” by New York Latin Jazz All Stars or Al Jarreau’s version of “Celebrate Me Home.”
The 94-minute playlist for a 120-minute program is interesting to me because I didn’t think my breaks for song recaps, public service announcements and other continuity were too long, but it comes out to my speaking for about 11 minutes per hour (not counting the five-minute NPR newsbreak at 9:01 p.m.). Apparently, that’s slightly less time than the time used for shorter ad breaks on commercial radio. Although I would hope my information was more useful than ads, my focus was always on giving listeners the most music possible.
It was also a two-hour episode instead of the regular three as Friday shows began with a national program (like “Piano Jazz”). The shorter shows definitely pushed me to focus the playlist a little more.
This playlist reflects a moment in time as I tried to pick songs that I felt fit the season. Some of the tunes were newer and perhaps don’t stand the test of time but were selected because they sounded good to me in the moment or just to add some variety.
Other songs, like anything from “A Charlie Brown Christmas,” are standards or are variations on classic tunes that mixed things up in a fun fashion.
I also have some non-traditional songs that I like throwing into a playlist because they spark joy. That includes “Hanging Up My Stocking” from the Squirrel Nut Zippers AND the original version of the track performed by the grandfather of the band’s drummer.
Ultimately, the holidays are a time to share comfort and joy with the family and friends in our lives. I hope that this holiday music playlist brings a little light into your celebrations.
The 2002 Winter Olympics Countdown Clock is pictured at the TRAX Arena Station on July 9, 2017. The station is feet away from Block 85 on South Temple, which was a key downtown site during the 2002 Winter Olympics and is scheduled to play an expanded role in the 2034 Games.
Local news announced last week that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is planning to close and demolish the church-owned Plaza Hotel on South Temple near its Temple Square in downtown Salt Lake City.
The church stated several reasons for the pending closure and demolition, but one of the initial uses for the site will be additional parking for public tours of the Salt Lake Temple when renovations are complete by April 2027. Temple open houses — which provide public access to a site that’s ordinarily limited to the certified faithful — are usually well attended and I foresee the church needing that additional parking during the open house.
When this item was discussed on Reddit, many, many people took the opportunity to complain about the church and rue the decision to add even more parking in a downtown that doesn’t lack for public parking.
Many were candid and admitted that the current hotel is dated and generally not regarded as an architectural gem (although Hoodline called it “iconic”), but they would prefer the faded building over parking. A subsequent blog entry from a site focused on Salt Lake development pointed out that the church’s initial intended use of the property for parking may run afoul of city code.
I certainly sympathize with the complaints, but I think temporarily building a parking lot could ultimately lead to _adding_ green space downtown. However, we must be open to possible uses of downtown properties and having a constructive relationship with the church if my idea is to become reality.
The basic situation is that Plaza Hotel is roughly one block east of another church-owned property called Block 85. Block 85 is currently dedicated entirely to parking, which would appear to do well when the Jazz or Mammoth are playing at the nearby Delta Center or if there’s a big convention at the Salt Palace across the street (IIRC, it was used as outdoor show space for the Outdoor Retailer convention in years past).
When those Games are over, Block 85 should be upgraded into a lasting landmark celebrating the Olympics as a park and public space.
Most past Olympics hosts have a park or other green space celebrating the Games and being one of the few cities around the world to have hosted such an event. It’s unusual that Salt Lake City wasn’t able to create such a space after the 2002 Games, but there might be an opportunity with the pending demolition of the Plaza Hotel.
The church has not stated what its long-term plans are for the hotel site. Perhaps the church could be persuaded to build a parking garage on the hotel site. I would certainly argue that failing to create a park space may be a missed opportunity for all involved.
If a parking garage is built on the former hotel site, there shouldn’t be a need for a staggeringly huge parking lot on Block 85. In that case, I would hope that the church, the Salt Lake City government and local Olympics organizers could implement a plan to turn Block 85 into an Olympic park.
Block 85 is centrally located and adjacent to TRAX light rail. It’s also close to many important attractions, including Temple Square, the Salt Palace Convention Center and Delta Center (which Jazz/Mammoth co-owner Ryan Smith is envisioning as the center of an expansive … and expensive … entertainment district).
While it may be somewhat satisfying to bellyache about the short-term plans for the Plaza Hotel site, I hope that the public can appeal to those in charge to collaborate and take a decisive leap into reshaping two large downtown properties to create a unique and unifying community space.
Several pigeons gather on a pier piling on the Sacramento River in Old Sacramento on Saturday, Feb. 2, 2013.
I don’t know if anyone else has done this, but I’ve attempted to calculate how much prices have gone up since it cost “tuppence a bag” to “Feed the Birds” from the Disney movie “Mary Poppins.” It was a bit of an odd journey given that I was trying to figure out inflation for a currency that changed pretty drastically over the past 114 years, but I think the math makes sense.
I’ve actually crunched the numbers twice over the years. The first time was when I was hosting “Evening Jazz” on Northstate Public Radio in Northern California sometime after 2011. As a volunteer DJ, I was spinning Kurt Rosenwinkel’s take on “Feed the Birds (Tuppence a Bag)” off of “Everybody Wants to be a Cat: Disney Jazz Vol. 1.”
While the song was playing, I wondered to myself what a tuppence was and how much it would be worth in modern times.
It took a while, but I crunched the numbers in between songs and came up with a number that I gleefully shared with listeners during a station break.
Fast forward to last month when I was browsing Threads as part of my social media move away from the site formerly known as Twitter. I came across a post from user andromedacat2016 noting that the original movie was set 53 years before its 1964 release and a modern version with the same time gap would be set in 1970.
The user wondered why that question popped into their head and I replied with my random question about the inflationary impact on the tuppence. Andromedacat2016 asked if I had figured it out, so I decided it was time to do the math again.
So my best guess involved using a Bank of England inflation calculator to estimate how much inflation there was on the tuppence up to decimalization and then calculating the new pence inflation to the current year.
2d in 1910 might be 16.12d (£sd) at decimalization in 1971.
Decimalization would convert that 16.12d (£sd) to 6.7 new pence.
From there, the 6.7p would grow to 82.3p today — really 83p, due to rounding.
Still a great deal for a bag of crumbs!
As I recall from my long-ago radio shift, I think my 2011 calculation came up with something around 72p. That’s a little higher than my current guess after recent inflation, but it seems to be close.
Attempting to solve this problem was fun but challenging for several reasons:
In 2011, I wasn’t sure of the year that “Mary Poppins” was set in. Thankfully, I went with Andromediacat2016’s date this time out.
What the heck was a tuppence? It’s clear now that it’s a variation of “two pence,” but the old pounds, shillings, pence system (£sd) of British currency prior to decimalization in 1971 remains a bit baffling to me. (As an aside, it’s popped up on some 1980s British TV that I’ve watched, including the “Doctor Who” story “Remembrance of the Daleks” and the Britcom “Hi-De-Hi!” which is set at a holiday camp in 1959.)
Before I could get to decimalization in 1971, I had to calculate an initial 61 years of inflation. While the Bank of England’s calculator goes back to 1209 (six years before the signing of the Magna Carta!), it only allows input in whole pounds. I may have gone off track at this point, but I started with a single pound to calculate the rate over 61 years and applied it to the tuppence.
When I reached decimalization (and looked back on Decimal Day via the BBC), I needed to convert the £sd value to the modern system. While this may be another point where my math may have gone astray, I think it was relatively straightforward to convert the old pence where 240 pence equaled 1 pound to the updated system where 100 new pence equalled 1 pound. At least I wasn’t trying to convert shillings, florins and crowns to decimal.
From there, it was back to the inflation calculator to determine how much change there’s been over the past 53 years (again being limited by the fact the calculator only allows input of whole numbers).
While I’m hopeful that my estimate is close, there may be factors I didn’t consider that I welcome someone knowledgable to point out.
It’s certainly possible I goofed somewhere. In its article on the song, Wikipedia apparently uses an inflation template to come up with £1.29 in 2023 pounds, and I’m more than a little curious about how it reached that number. Coincidentally, that figure is closer to my 2011 calculation (adjusted for 12 years of intervening inflation).
In the end, it’s fascinating to think about how money may have changed over time and how much things might have cost 114 years ago. Eighty-nine pence (or £1.29) doesn’t seem like it would go far today, and I wonder how much two pence in 1910 would help the woman after accounting for the cost of the bag and crumbs. Indeed, I think the bag would be the biggest cost without knowing how the woman obtained the bread or subsequently prepared the crumbs.
There’s also value reflecting on the message of the song — that of a beggar woman outside St. Paul’s Cathedral selling a frivolous item ostensibly to benefit pigeons, but it’s really charity to help the elderly woman. In one verse, the lyrics include the line “Their young ones are hungry, their nests are so bare/All it takes is tuppence from you.”
As we saw in the film (and can see in real life), it’s easy for some to turn away from those in need. I know that I don’t personally rise to the occasion every time, but hopefully the tragic beauty of a song such as “Feed the Birds” will push me to reconsider (or find other avenues to help).
