Before Intelligence was Artificial

Back in the late 1900’s, I scored my first graphics job at the Daily Sun in Warner Robins, Georgia. This daily newspaper had 3 monthly real estate publications it printed, and it was my job to typeset, retouch photos, layout the magazines, proof the negatives [yeah, I’m THAT old], and inevitably get yelled at for any mistakes after it all went to press. I stepped into the world of print journalism right as it was transitioning from literal cutting and pasting of pages, to more high-tech image setters and new software. Photoshop was only a couple years old, and QuarkXpress was the industry standard for multi-page layouts.

Having some artsy-fartsy skills already, I did pretty well with the design industry. While I was never smart enough to solve the riddle of making good money at it, I did win a bunch of awards and high-fives from sales reps and publishers. I would eventually chase slight pay raises to do other things like designing products and packaging. Eventually, it would lead to me working directly for the world’s most famous legal pimp, who would win an election for State Assembly AFTER he died.

When Dennis Hof left us for the big brothel in the sky, I lost my biggest fan at the ranches. I was one of the 12 people present at his burial, and despite how much of a pain in the ass he was, I oddly miss him like a family member [not like a parent, but more like an eccentric uncle].

Those who came in to run the business, wouldn’t allow me to return with my temporary lifting restrictions after donating my kidney. But it wouldn’t have mattered if they had, considering COVID would shut down the brothels for months a year after I left.

I moved on to try being a drafter for the military industrial complex for 2 years, until the boss’s son booted me for allegedly drawing the wrong tail door for an airplane hangar. I totally drew what he told me to draw, but it’s ok – that was the most miserable 9-5 I had EVER worked.

Every job I’ve had since, was not considered a graphic design job, but every one had me doing graphic design. The last one I got laid off from at the casino, I was called the Marketing Executive Assistant, which I think confused the coke heads in charge when they went to make budget cuts, considering I was running a full-scale commercial print shop and slinging graphics.

In my short-lived casino marketing peon career, I was disappointed to learn how much so-called graphic artists depend on prompting their work on AI. I mean, I dig not having to cook food for a photo shoot. That part is cool. But letting the data centers replace human imagination and skill, just feels icky.

I guess that makes me an obsolete old-timer.