It’s hard to escape AI these days. Artificial intelligence.

Wait, let’s punctuate it correctly: “intelligence.”

There, I feel better already.

But it’s everywhere. Lurking in my email inbox, offering to “explain” an email to me. Further attempting to offer suggestions for me as I type a response. (I really need to learn how to disable that feature.) It endlessly annoys me.

I secretly find pleasure in writing the unpredicted, just so the auto-generated text it wants to send me isn’t what it wants me to say.

I’m planning a big trip, and asked a friend who is familiar with the destination for suggestions.

Her suggestion? You guessed it: AI.

She told me that AI planned her entire summer vacation and that it was spectacular. It told her the peak hours of each attraction so her family could avoid those hours and not have as many crowds to navigate. It made restaurant suggestions. Gave advice on hotels. The list goes on.

She said it was hands-down the best vacation she ever had.

When, a few months later, I saw her bemoaning booking a nonrefundable hotel in the wrong city while on a different trip, I couldn’t muster the courage to ask if AI pointed her to that location.

A few weeks ago, I was in Chicago’s O’Hare Airport following a Global Entry interview. My family has some trips coming up, and I decided I wanted to be able to use the faster TSA precheck lines.

I learned the night before that my flight was delayed slightly to allow the crew the required amount of rest time before their next trip. No worries. I rescheduled my interview, all without any artificial assistance.

When we arrived practically on time, I took my time heading to the interview area.

As I waited, I leisurely read a book that has been on my “to read” list for several years.

Following an extremely mundane interview, I prowled the corridor, searching for lunch.

With a gluten-free existence, airport meals can be tricky, but luckily O’Hare has Farmer’s Fridge options. I grabbed a salad and was heading to the McDonald’s seating area when I thought I saw a familiar face. Immediately, I dismissed the notion. It wasn’t possible. I was in Chicago. Strangers can look like people we know.

But as I headed back, I did a double-take. This guy was sporting a Kansas City Royals jacket. Yes, many men in a clerical collar look alike, but I was fairly sure I knew this priest.

So I stopped, stumbled through an introduction and he was bemused as I was to run into a very long ago acquaintance at the airport.

This little story is what I love about life. That it can be completely random and unexpected.

Any plan I had was merely broad strokes of what I planned to accomplish that particular day. I didn’t have a minute-by-minute checklist generated by AI so I would know the optimal time to schedule my interview. I simply rolled with what the day brought.

And on that Thursday, I crossed paths with a friend in the most random of places.

Now, could AI have made my life easier in procuring a shuttle to my hotel? Very probably. I could be frustrated about it, or I could take the fact that my phone service couldn’t seem to work outside of one of the busiest airports in the country as a sign it is absolutely time for a change in service.

As I look forward to a Christmas vacation, I think of my friend’s suggestion to use AI, and then I contrast it with my own unexpected instances of joy and discovery when I’m away from home.

It’s hard for me to feel motivated to jump in with both feet to an AI-generated itinerary.

Would we have fun?

No doubt. But what would we miss? What spontaneous, unexpected situations might we encounter along the way?

I just can’t bring myself to turn a vacation over to AI. At least not yet.

I’m having fun quizzing friends, reaching out to acquaintances, getting the recommendations of those I know ... and then plan to follow up with them to discuss our adventures.

Would AI make my life simpler? Could it offer suggestions for dinner? Probably. Could it provide the recipe based on a photo of what’s in my fridge? Undoubtedly.

But I come from a fairly stubborn line of individuals. I was brought up in the school of hard knocks. We were given freedom to try and also fail at tasks. We learned and grew from those experiences.

Will my trip be flawless? Hardly.

I know it will be imperfect, and we will likely face weather, traffic, crowds and more. But I’m looking forward to experiencing it with my son. To experiencing the ups and downs together. It is my hope that by allowing life to happen and not to over-plan that we can enjoy the organic experience of discovery as we travel.

Bonar is the editor/publisher of the I-R and can be reached at kbonar@indyrepnews.com.