Back Home by Chris Hardie
Back in the days when I ran newsrooms, I was fond of telling folks that the simplest definition of news is “what people are talking about.”
I was reminded of that when I stopped in recently at Borgen’s Restaurant in downtown Westby for a cup of coffee. Two elderly gentlemen sipping the same social lubricant as myself were deep in discussion.
Apparently one or both may have been a tad hard of hearing, because the conversation was loud enough for most folks to hear, including yours truly, who is hard of hearing.
The conversation varied from politics to the weather, but then ventured into a fascinating discussion about one of the hot topics of the day.
“I don’t know why everyone thinks AI is something new and wonderful,” said the man whose name was Ole and he spoke with a slight Norwegian lilt. “It’s been around for hundreds of years.”
“It has not,” countered his companion named Ted. “It really didn’t start until the later 1950s.”
Ole shook his head vigorously. “It’s been around for longer than that. But vhat most folks forget is that Vernon County and Vestby was one of the main locations for AI.”
I am not an AI geek, but I had never heard that Westby was one of the pioneers in one of the most amazing developments in our technological world today. I was eager to hear more.
“‘Tvas the early 1940s when it really took off around here,”Ole explained. “Vernon County Breeders, it was called, and then it became Tri-State Breeders and later, oh vhat was it called, Accelerated Genetics. I should know. I milked cows for many years.”
I just about sent a mouthful of coffee across my table but managed to swallow and stifle my laughter.
Ted looked a little confused.
“But Ole, I heard that you somehow use AI with your computer. Do you spose that’s for photos and directions?”
“Aack, you don’t need a computer to do AI,” Ole scoffed. “Roll up your sleeves, put on a good plastic glove up to your shoulder and you’re in and out in no time. I never had any computer to tell me what to do. That’s B.S.”
“I just don’t understand why I keep hearing about things like bots, chat and computers,” Ted said. “What does that have to do with AI?”
“It could be those farms that milk with computers, which I still don’t understand,” Ole said. “But it took a while for me to get used to the idea that we didn’t need a bull in with the herd all of the time when we had frozen straws from different bulls.”
“By the way,” Ole continued. “Did you hear about the young bull and the old bull who were standing on top of a hill overlooking the herd? The young bull started to shiver and said to the old bull, ‘I’m getting cold. I think I’ll go to the barn to warm up. Are you joining me?’
“No,” said the old bull. “I think I’ll just go and slip into a jersey.”
“You’ve told that joke a hundred times, Ole, but it’s still a good one,” Ted chuckled.
I was finished with my coffee at this point and walked past Ted and Ole’s table. I had to set the record straight.
“Pardon me for interrupting, gentlemen, but I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation about AI. While I too grew up on a farm where AI was used, the AI they are talking about now is not artificial insemination but artificial intelligence. It’s using computers to replicate human intelligence and to solve problems.”
Ole and Ted stared at me for a couple of seconds letting what I said sink in.
“Vell, that may be true,” Ole replied. “But it’s hard enough finding natural intelligence these days. We don’t need artificial intelligence.”
“You’ll get no argument from me,” I said. “Love your bull joke, by the way.”
What would AI do?
So after I wrote my tongue-in-cheek story about Ole and Ted (who are indeed made up characters), I asked ChatGPT to “write a story about two old Norwegians who mistake AI for artificial insemination.”
Within a few seconds, here is what resulted:
In the quaint village of Vik, nestled between majestic fjords and snow-capped mountains, lived two old friends, Olaf and Ingrid. Both had weathered the storms of life, their laughter echoing through the narrow cobblestone streets as they approached their twilight years.
One crisp autumn morning, Olaf and Ingrid gathered at the local community center to discuss the latest news and catch up on each other’s lives. The village had recently embraced technological advancements, and a new AI system had been installed to streamline various processes.
As the duo chatted about the changing times, a poster caught Olaf’s eye. “AI: The Future of Our Village,” it proclaimed, with a detailed illustration of a computerized brain. Perplexed but intrigued, Olaf tugged Ingrid’s sleeve and pointed at the poster.
“Ingrid, have you heard of this AI thing? They say it’s the future!”
Ingrid squinted at the poster, her weathered hands adjusting the glasses perched on her nose. “AI? What in the name of Odin is that?”
Olaf, always the adventurous one, suggested they attend the village meeting that evening to learn more about this mysterious AI. The duo arrived at the community center, where a young tech enthusiast named Erik stood at the front, eager to educate the villagers about the wonders of artificial intelligence.
Erik explained the potential benefits of AI, from automating mundane tasks to predicting the weather. However, the nuances of the technology eluded Olaf and Ingrid, who exchanged puzzled glances.
The confusion deepened when Erik mentioned the term “artificial insemination,” emphasizing how AI could revolutionize agriculture and animal breeding. Olaf and Ingrid exchanged another set of bewildered looks, their minds conjuring images of technological wizardry in the realm of fertility.
After the presentation, Olaf approached Erik with a furrowed brow. “Young man, we don’t quite understand this AI business. Are you telling us it’s some kind of magical device for helping cows have calves?”
Erik stifled a laugh and clarified, “No, no! AI stands for artificial intelligence. It’s about smart machines and computers, not cows having babies. It’s like a clever friend who can help us do things more efficiently.”
Olaf and Ingrid, still scratching their heads, exchanged a relieved chuckle. “Well, we thought this AI was some newfangled way of bringing life to the fields. But clever machines, you say? Perhaps they can help us figure out these contraptions,” Ingrid mused.
As Olaf and Ingrid left the community center, they may not have fully grasped the concept of AI, but they embraced the idea of a smarter, more efficient future. Little did they know that their charming mix-up would become a cherished tale passed down through the generations, reminding the villagers of the day Olaf and Ingrid thought AI was the key to helping cows start families.
I have to admit, the AI work is pretty impressive. It missed some of the nuances of AI. And it needs a joke or two.
Chris Hardie spent more than 30 years as a reporter, editor
