Typed on the back porch · July 2026

Hi.

Somebody probably handed you this address on a scrap of paper, or you got curious after hearing me mention it. Either way, this takes three minutes and asks nothing of you.

Two years ago I tried one of those AI chat programs and got mush. I typed a question, it typed back a page of nothing, and I closed the window feeling confirmed in my suspicions. If that was your experience too, we started in the same spot.

Chores changed my mind. I watched one of these tools take a six-page insurance letter and hand back three sentences of plain English, with the one question worth asking an agent. I fed it photos of my mother's recipe cards and got them typed, margin notes and all. It has drafted hard letters for me at eleven at night. None of it felt like the future. It felt like a good neighbor with a truck.

Some people I care about have misgivings that run deeper than "does it work." I take those seriously, and I'll give you my whole answer in one line: a tool ends up as good or as bad as the person holding it, and this one is getting picked up with or without us. I'd rather careful people held it too. That's the entire speech.

So here's what I'm doing about it. This fall I'm teaching some free sessions. The first ones meet at my church, because that hall was easy to borrow; after that come friends' kitchen tables and a couple of small shops that asked. You don't need a church, or me, or any experience. You need ninety minutes and one boring chore you'd like off your plate.

I typed the details on a card so you can photograph it and lose the rest of this note:

If you're inclined, say so and I'll save you a stool. If you read this far and decide it's not for you, that's a fine ending too, and I mean that.

Take care,

P.S. If writing beats catching me in person, send a note to hello@beyondprompt.ai. "Save me a stool" covers it. I check it most evenings, after the porch.