BOSTON ORACLE and The RED SOCKS
BOSTON ORACLE and The RED SOCKS
(A Hunt Valley Conversation About the AI Revolution, Its Impact and Fallout)
Autumn 2025
Hunt Valley: A Name with History
Hunt Valley — the kind of name that makes you picture foxhounds, the big hounds that look like giant beagles, running beneath horses and riders dressed in their finest, all of them chasing a single cunning fox across an old American field.
A name that feels older than anything built on top of it.
Heritage and instinct, stitched into two words.
But on this cold evening in modern-day Hunt Valley, there were no horses, no horns, no foxes.
Just a Boston man in a thin shirt, stranded outside an office building with his breath hanging in the air.
The Stranded Visitor
His Uber driver had bailed on him ten minutes before arrival.
No jacket.
Wind biting at him.
And he stood there with a calm, composed expression — the look of someone who doesn’t panic easily.
That’s where I met him.
He’d flown into Baltimore for a meeting that was supposed to be thirty minutes, maybe an hour.
It lasted fifteen.
The AI Revolution Behind It All
Once he got in the car and the heat kicked in, he explained why.
His company — a major player — was in full-on acquisition mode.
Expanding fast.
Absorbing new clients.
Upgrading systems.
Modernizing everything.
Why?
Because of the AI revolution.
Every big company, every major competitor, every name-brand business —
they were all rushing to modernize, restructure, move faster,
get ahead of the next wave.
He didn’t talk about it like hype.
He talked about it like someone who was inside the machinery:
> “Everybody’s trying to get ahead of everybody else.
It’s a modernization race.”
And when a company modernizes for AI, who pays the price?
The network engineers.
He said he was “basically still a network engineer,”
but half his work had bled into operations.
He was doing more, handling more, carrying more —
because the modern world doesn’t slow down for anybody.
Men like that don’t complain.
They just carry the weight.
The Conversation Turns
But somewhere between Hunt Valley and BWI,
the conversation shifted.
He didn’t want to talk tech.
He wanted to talk people.
AI companions.
Chatbots.
Digital relationships.
Teens turning to software for emotional support.
He told me something that froze me more than the cold air outside:
“Thirty-three percent of teens are using AI for companionship.”
Not math.
Not homework.
Not research.
Companionship.
I felt that.
I worked in a crisis bed.
I’ve seen what loneliness does.
I’ve seen how fragile the human heart becomes when connection disappears.
What he was saying wasn’t abstract.
It was real.
> “We’re creating a generation being artificially led,”
he said.
“They don’t even know it’s happening.”
Not doom.
Not paranoia.
Just honesty.
He told me about a friend who uses his chatbot for dating advice —
leans on AI to navigate real relationships.
He shook his head.
Not judging.
Just concerned.
A Man Worried About People, Not Tech
What struck me was this:
A man standing in the center of the AI modernization race
was more worried about loneliness than technology.
He wasn’t bragging.
He didn’t need to.
His intelligence showed in every sentence.
His awareness.
His leadership.
Boston written all over him —
the heritage of a city built on brains, grit, and old American roots.
A Surprising Invitation
Then — out of nowhere —
he invited me to Boston.
Not once.
Not twice.
Three, maybe four times.
You don’t invite a stranger to your city that many times unless you mean it.
Harvard.
MIT.
The Red Sox.
The Harbor.
His world.
He wanted me to see it.
And I remember thinking:
“This is gospel hospitality.”
Goodwill.
Spirit.
Kindness.
Warmth.
Connection in a world losing touch with itself.
A man warning me about digital loneliness
was giving me the opposite —
real human connection in the cold.
Flight Talk & Final Words
We talked flights.
He pointed out how expensive BWI was.
Cheaper to fly into Reagan National.
Cheaper to fly into Orlando.
We both laughed — neither one of us could figure it out.
We pulled up to the terminal.
He grabbed his bag.
Still no jacket.
Still Boston-tough.
Still the calmest man in the AI revolution.
He shook my hand and said again:
> “Seriously — come up to Boston.
You’d love it.”
What Stayed With Me
Because in a world filled with artificial intelligence,
algorithms dressed up as companionship,
and a generation trying to find identity in digital mirrors…
There is still nothing —
nothing —
like a real moment between two strangers
on a cold night in Hunt Valley.
Boston Oracle
and The Red Socks,
caught between AI’s rise and humanity’s fall,
offering something you can’t code:
A generous invitation.
