I went to CreatorFest Orlando, 2024 to listen, to observe, to understand and to convey that knowledge work is generationally agnostic.

I heard a LOT of exuberance, a lot of unbridled enthusiasm and, probably,  way too much BASS to facilitate the networking that was to take place on day 1.
I observed a curious lack of technological sophistication in the organizational aspects of the event, but this was an inaugural event built primarily on the aforementioned
and it did not significantly detract from my understanding the stories being told on day 2 and day 3.

I came away very satisfied that this was a most worthwhile use of my time and effort based on these findings:

1. I was delighted to find myself  (the eldest attendee) being accepted as a fellow K-Dubb, along with all those 20, 30, 40 and even 50 years younger.
2. Only 2.5% of ALL these “Creators” earn a decent living on the internet.
3. The quote “We collect followers, not money” summed up the other 97.5%.
4. There were three instructional targets,
   A. How to Grow Your audience,
   B. How to Monetize your Brand/Product
   C. How to manage your way into a lasting business.
5. In general I found the event pursued those targets but exuberance, enthusiasm, and BASS, seemed to dominate the attention span of the audience.
6. I was reminded of a song from the male dominated culture of the last century where MTV declared:
   “That ain’t workin.  That’s the way you do it. Get your money for nuthin, Get your chicks for free.”HOWEVER, the crystal clear message of EVERY speaker after the noise died down was:
   “This IS WORKIN!  These are the ways to do it!  EARNING money for value.  Get your clicks for free!”

For whatever it may be worth I offer a few recommendations:
1. DO NOT segregate the attendees into haves and have nots (meals should be for everyone allowing time to network with background music)
2. Put all your main stage speakers on in exclusive morning “opening sessions” of 90 to 120 minutes.
3. Allow at least half your afternoon speakers to be unknowns and place them in multiple smaller rooms of 50 or so
4. Allow attendees to determine which 2 or three afternoon sessions should be repeated.
5. Automate your entire registration process and PRINT BADGES on site.
6. Start everything ON TIME.
7. Lower the price and shoot for 2000 attendees, now that you have had a successful event.
8. Celebrate at the end of the event.

According to IBM Artifical intelligence is technology that enables computers and machines to simulate human intelligence and problem-solving capabilities.

Having built a highly successful Information Systems career on Richard Feynman’s hypothesis that “Perspective is worth 80 IQ points”,
it would be foolish of me to reject any new perspective on A solution to a A problem.

Especially when many a human decision, action or proposal has produced this “Cobra” pose.

However, the core of my solution generation process centers around a Heads TOGETHER analysis known as a SCRUM.

Ai is welcome to Scrum with US, but it’s perspective will NOT be consider the only way.

MENTAL Pushing and shoving to advance an idea is commonplace, as opposed to the actions in it’s Rugby namesake.
Although when I started ScrumPlanIT in 2002 things were much less civilized.

Here is where we are today:

ScrumPlanIT has adapted to the rise of Knowledge Workers

AND the idea that ALL work requires Know How.

So the next time someone tells you your job is being replaced by Artficial Intelligence you can reply, “excellent, how much of a royalty will I get paid for teaching it how to do what I do every time it does my job 10/100/1000 times faster for the next 3 years?”  Then you can offer a separate consulting contract for correcting it when it encounters something it hasn’t encountered before.

Ai will be able to do many of the tasks that we currently ask humans to do, and it may even be able to advocate the logically, most cost effective approach to solving a problem or reacting to a situation but cheaper and faster is not always the better way.

Just as we tell human team members Ai needs to remember:

32 months ago I was offered a bonus to forgo my final year of corporate servitude and retire. This was not what I had planned, but then, rarely have my life changing events EVER been “as planned”.
I had almost completed the full remodel of my house in AZ and felt it was finally time to begin utilizing the carefully crafted design that fit my lifestyle so perfectly.
(Except, for the stairs). I had my list of application development projects that had been waiting for the right tech to allow them to come to fruition. AND for me to have the time to research and test the boundaries of the “latest” capabilities. Retirement?  NO!  This was an opportunity for EARLY UNTIREMENT!  The freedom to build MY designs instead of those who failed to see what today truly offered for tomorrow. However, 3 months into my untired work, a completely different opportunity knocked.

“I just bought your neighbor’s house down the street for cash”, she said.
“You have the same floor plan, but they said you had done considerable remodeling.  Mind if I take a look?”, she asked.
Never missing an opportunity to point out the features of my design, I consented.

Little did I know this would be evidence of the SOMETHING referred to in the scientific hypothesis:  There MUST be something that moves a system from its current state to one that is better for the planet and its population, in defiance of all probabilities, patterns and past behaviors.  Or as I put it in my pilot TV Script: Earthlings call it Fate, Destiny, Faith, Luck, Serendipity and even Random Chance but the rest of the galaxy calls it: NaturalAwe.

“This is perfect for one of my clients” she said,  “I will pay you double what you owe, in cash”.
“Wait What?” I asked.
She repeated the offer.

Two weeks later we were boxing up the contents of our house we wanted to keep and loading it into a storage locker. Everything else was getting sold.
NaturalAwe struck 2 more times over the next few months (two whole nuther episodes) and we found ourselves moving into a house with a back yard that borders Disney property in Orlando, Florida.
It as taken me two years to reconfigure compliance with our Disneyworld neighborhood lifestyle while including a return to my tireless work, but I am happy to report that everything is now in place and this site will be quite active as projects progress.

One of the few things I remember from my  forced study of Shakespeare in High School and College,
was  Comedy vs Tragedy, in comedy the hero wins in tragedy EVERYBODY seems to lose.

Fahrenheit 11/9 is a tragedy.  I hate tragedies.  I don’t know why anyone wants to write and produce work
that makes us feel sad and depressed.  I suppose, with Shakespeare, the thought was you would leave the
theater thinking “Well at least I am not as bad off as that guy”.  But Fahrenheit 11/9 is a DOCUMENTARY with
the USA as Hero so when I left theater I could only feel disgusted by what my Hero Country has become.

I like to hear what Michael has to say.  I like to see the imagery that comes from Michael’s leftist perspective.
Not because I agree with him (though I do much of the time), but because he presents a view of many realities that we
do not see in mainstream media or hear about from our “leaders”.

If you listen to Michael, the solution is, vote ’em all out and let the young firebrands build a better way.
If you listen to the other side the solution is to rid our country of all those who don’t look right, think right or worship right.

I got news for both sides.  These are not the kind of solutions we need.

1. We need to stop pretending that the word has not become LeadershiT.
2. We need to stop being so damn gullible.
3. Just because you saw it on the internet, doesn’t make it true.
4. The human being in the uniform needs to earn our trust and respect,
just like the human beings yearning to be free at the border,
but both are innocent until proven guilty.
5. Most of us are busy trying to improve our personal situation and caring for our loved ones.
6. We don’t have the time to run the government so we elect public servants who are supposed to work FOR US.
7. If these elected officials, especially the re-elected officials, start working for somebody else or go into business for themselves,
they need to be fired.

Native: Belonging to a person by birth or to a thing by nature

Many moons ago, our people showed us, sometimes, meaningful stories through tubes. Lou Grant came to us every 7 days, in season, to speak out against injustice and to convey understanding. One such story dealt with
the skywalkers. Not those who spawned Luke and Leia but those who descended from ancient warriors who lived high above the ground on the very edge of cliffs. These people had no word for acrophobia. In modern times they are sought after for their ability to flawlessly craft structures that touch the sky.
Lou told us of two from these tribes. One the wise elder who knew the real value of such people. The other a lost soul trying to find his path.

Lou was able to get the lost soul a chance to speak with the elder.
But the lost one awoke that day and realized that it was a fine day to walk
and observe the ways of Mother Earth.

Lou left the Elder, embarrassed and disappointed by the one he thought HE had saved. Hours later a wired device on his desk began to ring, he picked up the curved top part of this contraption and placed it to his ear so that the bottom of the curve arrived at his mouth. He spoke into it and the voice of the Elder spoke.

“I have hired him. He will make an excellent employee. Thank you for directing him to me.”

“But he was late”, protested Lou.

“No, you were early.” came the reply.

About a week ago, the front page of Business declared that Marc Lore was in pursuit of Utopia.
Then CNN offered this today…

It would appear that Mr. Lore is not just Considering SomeplacElse, he is planning to build it!

This comes at a time when I am SOOO READY to move to an actual Experimental Prototype Community of Tomorrow.
I have a feeling that this one will actually happen and not be turned into just another a theme park , because Walt’s vision was too expensive and radical for his time.
15 years ago, I barely had enough funding to publish my book, let alone capture the attention of venture capitalists anxious to give money to hook up apps, 120 character chirp generators and live action antics promoting mostly absurd and rarely up-lifting REAL people.  (Though I must admit, I did love Gangnam style).

I had hoped that billionaires created during this time, would see the REAL VALUE of allocating their resources SomeplacElse and that the idea of living in harmony with Nature would allow US to do more and more with less and less.

When covid hit, I thought somebody would realize that we are INDEED all in this together.

Thank you Mr. Lore.  If there is anything I can do to help you in your quest, I can honestly say, I was born with the DNA of builders and preachers that has been honed by the impact of waste, encouraged by experiential research and development, and just plain belief that, given the chance, WE are so much more capable than the sum of our individual parts!

Her name was Melinda.  Last name unknown.  But we talked, laughed, played charades and provided outrageous answers to the pantomimes of others.  I found out many things about her in the few hours we spent together but alas a phone number was not among them.
Someone called to her, she said “good bye” and she was gone.

People left until Dennis, Dave and I were all that remained.  We told each other stories of antics, triumphs and tragedies during our 1st semesters at college.  Around 2 am we ran out of interesting tales of Wild Women, Crazy Professors,  and Wealthy students.
We made the earnest commitment to keep in touch.  But only Dennis and I would be attending Purdue Calumet come February, while Dave would be back at St Joes consumed by Basektball, Baseball and his collegiate athletic celebrity.

2 months later, I would drive onto a snow covered Purdue Calumet Campus.  Parking in a space close to the main entrance.  I got out of the car and walked, instead, down a longer, snow-drifted, path to a door I seemed destined to open. Warm air rushed to welcome me into a long corridor of classrooms.  Left or straight?  I chose straight.  The third door on the right was open, all others closed.  My rubber soled imitation seal skin boots made nary a sound as I approached the opening.  I glanced in.  All but one student’s eyes were focused on the Lecturer. Her eyes, were looking directly at me. Oh yes.  How could it have been anyone else, but Melinda?

There was something about driving the Tri-State at night in the winter, that kicked up the adrenalin.  I had topped off my wiper solution fully cognizant of the coming street crud that would try to coat my windshield in the wake of lumbering 18 wheelers.  I danced across the 3 lanes, desperately trying to to avoid any semblance of the 55mph “limit”.   Arriving at any Tri-state exit with more than 6 inches of clean glass at this time of year was a challenge I had faced and met many times before.

As I wheeled around the Kennedy cloverleaf, I reached for the directions Dennis had provided. When I stopped for a red light, I flipped on the dome light, and reviewed them.  The light changed and I turned left, fumbling to switch off the dome light.  As I drove down Dennis’ street I saw 6’5 Dave Huneyager getting out of his Volkswagen bug.  This must be the place, Dave would definitely be attending Dennis’s party.  I parked and Dave looked toward my car to see who was coming.

“Cootzie?  Is that you?”
“It’s me Huneyager-yager”
“No Date?”
“Nope”
“Good, my sister will be happy about that.”

Dave took me around the back of the house and we went up some stairs to the porch.  Dave opened the storm door and led me in.
Dennis’ mom stood in the kitchen.

“Hi Mrs. Terry, this is the famous Cootz from Gary”
Mrs Terry smiled politely and took the bag of Jay’s Potato Chips from me.
“Nice to finally meet you Cootz. I’ll keep these up here for now, there are some coolers downstairs for your drinks”
“Thank you.  No way you are Dennis’ mom, younger sister maybe.”
She laughed and gave me a hug.

Dave had walked down the stairs and shouted “Look who I found”
There were at least 20 people in the basement now watching me come down the stairs.
Dennis shouted “It’s Cootz!”

People actually cheered.
I looked back up the stairs and said “Where?”

After I dropped my 6 pack of Coke (Tab? never) in the cooler, Dennis took me around and introduced me to everyone.
The music was loud and I heard about half what was said.
But I smiled and nodded and made some flattering remark about everyone I met, which they probably didn’t hear either.

Eventually I found an already chilled can and sat down next to a bowl of chips.
People came to talk to me about Purdue, about Gary, about Wirt High School, about career aspirations and course work.
Others came to ask me to tell them the story about Dennis or Dave or Kite Flying, or Ghost Hunting or my kazoo band.

From my vantage point I could see new arrivals coming down the stairs.
I had just finished discussing the lyrics to the song that was playing (“They call it a Drelb” by Elvis Presley),
with a young lady, who left to get me another Coke.

The room seemed to go silent.  Incredibly shapely legs appeared on the stairs, followed by a tastefully short skirt, an elegantly filled sweater and absolutely the most beautiful young woman I had ever encountered.
Our eyes met.  She smiled.  I stood.  She walked right up to me and said “I like your shoes”.
“Why, Thank you.  These are my current favorites.”
“I’ll bet you are the one they call C00tz.”

The fictional 60s author Terrance Mann wrote:

“There comes a time when all the cosmic tumblers have clicked into place and the universe opens itself up a few seconds to show you what’s possible.”

It would be years before Field of Dreams would explain this moment to me, but in the distance I felt the beat of a different drum calling me to a path less traveled.

Mom shouted down the hall, “Barry, will you run to Dunkin Donut and get me a coffee?”
“Ok.  You want a hot dog from Arman’s?”
“Not today”

The overly wholesome food and all you can-drink-milk from the Purdue meal plan left me starved for the real stuff of
Chicago and Region eateries.  A couple of Arman’s dogs wrapped in fries and a coke would definitely welcome my stomach home.

I got the “oh so goods” and sat at the kitchen table devouring the real taste of home.   Mom sat across the way, sipping her Dunkin elixir
with the same delicious enthusiasm.

“What are your plans for your Birthday?” she asked
“My friend Dennis over in Hammond is having a party tomorrow night.  I may go there, but I have to check in with Rick and the rest of the guys to see what’s going on with them”
“Okay, well if you need a car, go ahead and take it, we aren’t going anywhere.”

I finished my banquet, kissed mom on top of her head and said “Thanks, Mom!”.
Then I went to the bedroom that housed our bootleg extension phone and pulled it from the closet.
A few calls to “the guys” delivered no opportunities for revelry, so I called Dennis.
“Hi, Cootz, I am so glad you called back.  I’ve got about 20 people coming over and at least half of them insisted I get in touch with you.
I got this antique Wine press so I thought I would have a wine making party.  I hope you can come, and feel free to bring a date”
“Wine making?  Really?”
“Well, I got a book with the Wine Maker, but I haven’t read it yet. Besides anybody can have a Christmas party.”

I agreed to come. Found out I didn’t need to bring grapes.  They would have a chip, cheese and crackers pot luck buffet.  As I recall, drinking age was 18 in those days (not that it mattered to this crew), so BYOB meant the tea-totaling Cootz would need to bring his own Ginger Ale and/or Coke. (no Diet Coke in those days, but at 18 I would have no use for it anyway).

Perhaps, it was just trying to get a date this close to Christmas, but Purdue Cootz had found himself quite interesting to several young women while on Campus, but hometown Barry/Cootz was apparently not the same guy.
Regardless, in the back of my mind the evidence continued to mount indicating I did not belong here.

I awoke on my birthday, to an empty house.  Both cars were gone. After all it was the season for shopping and visiting.  Dad was likely out shoveling snow or delivering firewood for friends and neighbors. I turned on the TV, waited for the tubes to warm up, and stood spinning the the channel changer hoping to find something worth watching on one of the 4 available channels.  A rerun of the three stooges appeared on Channel 9.  Had to twist the dial just right so it would stay on 9.  There, ok, let’s see which one this is.  I sat in Dad’s recliner, leaning back against the towel that protected my (when you gonna get a haircut?) hair from the cracked vinyl beneath it.

Curly was doing his “woo, woob, woob, woo” routine.  Still makes me smile even though I had seen it at least 100 times.  Yup, I was going to Dennis’ party.