• My fourth-grade son was the only one in his class without a Nintendo Switch.
• My husband and I bought him one and set firm boundaries, but still regretted it.
• I noticed a shift in my son’s priorities to always want to be online.

My 10-year-old son Ezra was the only one in his fourth-grade class without a Nintendo Switch. His teacher had a policy allowing students to pull out their electronics at the end of the day, so Ezra often felt left out when his friends played.

This led to relentless begging. Some of Ezra’s classmates even offered to donate to a fund to help him get one.

I was a firm no. I’m not big on electronics and wasn’t going to give in to the peer pressure — and I certainly wasn’t going to let other kids buy him one.

But when my husband became a full-time teacher at a new school, I wanted Ezra to transfer there in the fifth-grade so they could be together. The dilemma was that Ezra loved his current educational environment. He didn’t want to leave his friends and the school where he felt comfortable and made memories.

So, I struck a deal with him — a “Switch for a switch.”

I regretted it almost immediately, especially after spending around $300 on the hand-held console. In the end, my husband and I let him stay at his current school for one more year instead, and rebranded the Switch as a combined Christmas and birthday gift.

We set boundaries, but still noticed a shift

My husband and I monitored what Ezra played, sticking to age ratings and avoiding shooter games. We turned on parental controls so that the device would shut off after an hour.

Even with that limit, Ezra seemed to fixate on and feel entitled to that time every day.

“When am I going to get my screen time?” he’d ask, melting down on days it didn’t happen.

Road trips were less sweet, too, since he didn’t even look up and out the window. “Yeah, cool,” he’d say, eyes glued to his screen.

I started to notice that ordinary life no longer excited him the same way. He showed less interest in being outdoors or exploring. More often, he just wanted to sink into his beanbag chair and tune out.

He realized on his own how much time he was spending with it

One day, I caught him playing a game instead of doing his homework, and I took the device away. He didn’t ask for it back. Weeks turned into months.

Then, when he was almost 12, he came to me and told me he had played games that his dad and I didn’t want him to access, followed by an apology. It’s been over a year and a half now, and Ezra hasn’t asked for his device back.

When I inquired why, he said, “I gave it up mostly because I subconsciously knew that my life started revolving around it.”

He spends his time differently

Now, he plays guitar and piano, draws, bikes, and skateboards with the kids in the neighborhood. Last week, he decided to take up pickleball.

“I have more time to do stuff. More creativity and a longer attention span,” he told me. ” I get less frustrated when trying new things.”

Most research suggests that kids do OK with about an hour of screen time a day. Ezra still gets that — usually by watching TV with his siblings. But now that screen time feels more intentional. It’s family time, something shared, rather than something that pulls him away.

We didn’t force him to give up his Switch

The fact that Ezra chose to give up his device might say something about maturity and maybe the values we’ve tried to model. We’ve talked openly about how screens can create quick, addictive hits of dopamine, and he says knowing that did influence his decision.

If I could go back, I don’t know if I would’ve bought a Switch for him in the first place. But if I hadn’t, would he always wonder what it was like? Would he have felt resentful?

Parenting is full of calls like this that you can’t fully predict and never feel entirely sure about. But I do know I’m proud of my kid for making the decision to better himself on his own.

• Sam Altman apologized to a community in Canada after a mass shooting by a banned ChatGPT user.
• The OpenAI CEO said he is “deeply sorry” his company didn’t alert police to the shooter’s activity.
• He promised to “help ensure something like this never happens again.”

OpenAI boss Sam Altman has apologized to a Canadian community for failing to alert authorities about a banned ChatGPT account linked to a teenager who went on to commit a mass shooting.

Jesse Van Rootselaar, who died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound during the attack in January, killed eight people and injured dozens of others in Tumbler Ridge, British Columbia.

OpenAI said it banned 18-year-old Van Rootselaar’s ChatGPT account because of problematic usage, but did not refer the matter to police because it did not meet its threshold of a credible or imminent plan for serious physical harm to others.

Altman said he was “deeply sorry,” in a letter “to the community of Tumbler Ridge,” which was published in full by a local news website.

“The pain your community has endured is unimaginable. I have been thinking of you often over the past few months,” Altman wrote.

“When I spoke with Mayor Krakowka and Premier Eby about this tragedy, they conveyed the anger, sadness, and concern being felt across Tumbler Ridge,” he continued. “We agreed a public apology was necessary, but that time was also needed to respect the community as you grieved. I share this letter with the understanding that everyone grieves in their own way and in their own time.”

Altman wrote that he could not imagine “anything worse” than losing a child. “My heart remains with the victims, their families, all members of the community, and the province of British Columbia.”

He wrote that going forward, his company would work with all levels of government to ensure “something like this” never happens again.

ChatGPT’s famously sycophantic personality has led some users down dark paths, leading OpenAI to revise how the chatbot behaves when asked about sensitive subjects like depression.

OpenAI is facing an ongoing lawsuit filed by the parents of 16-year-old Adam Raine. The suit alleges ChatGPT “actively helped” Raine explore suicide methods over several months before he died. OpenAI previously told Business Insider that it was saddened by Raine’s death and that ChatGPT includes safeguards.

OpenAI said last year that it was working with mental health professionals to improve how ChatGPT responds to users who show signs of psychosis or mania, self-harm or suicide, or emotional attachment to the chatbot.

• I caught myself criticizing my body in front of my 18-month-old daughter.
• Seeing her watch me made me rethink how I speak to myself
• I now try to model self-acceptance, so she learns to do the same

A spring doesn’t go by that I don’t think about a pivotal moment I had in a Macy’s dressing room.

I’d ventured to the mall with my then 18-month-old daughter, desperate for a new swimsuit before pool season began. I maneuvered the stroller, piled high with promise, into the family dressing stall, my daughter’s little head peeking out from a sea of nylon and hangers.

The fluorescents were predictably stark as I began to disrobe and jimmy myself into the first option. Looking up at my reflection, I visibly shuddered at what I saw staring back — an involuntary reflex, followed by an audible groan.

Then the negative self-talk started.

My daughter was watching me

Oh. My. God. Look at that cellulite! Are you kidding me?? I do CrossFit, for God’s sake. That is just not OK.

Shock, then disgust, gave way to a cacophony of muttered insults and curses. I’d transformed into a lunchroom mean girl, hurling insults at that horrible excuse for a human being in the mirror.

You should not be wearing a bathing suit AT ALL. Those legs. How can you show those legs?

Just then, my eye drifted beyond the horror show unfolding in front of me. I caught my little girl’s eye in the mirror and realized she was watching me. Taking me in. Taking all of this in.

Oh, no, I thought. I’m saying these things out loud.

It was under my breath, yes, but loud enough to be heard. And even if I wasn’t, I knew my body language was speaking volumes. Self-loathing. Shame. And there’s my beautiful, blank-slate angel, drinking in every moment.

I wasn’t being kind to myself

I suddenly surged with anger. This was not what I wanted to model for my daughter.

As a feminist, I’d always believed I had a responsibility to be kind, generous, and encouraging to other women. Yet there I was, treating myself worse than I’d treat any stranger on the street.

I wouldn’t perpetuate this. If my child hadn’t been there in the room with me, I might have missed the moment entirely — because until then, I hadn’t even been aware of this toxic inner dialogue.

I wanted so much more for my baby girl, who would one day stand in front of a mirror as she shopped. I wanted her to feel proud of what she saw, not become her own worst enemy, measuring herself against an impossible beauty standard that doesn’t even exist in real life. She did not deserve to learn this kind of shame.

At that moment, I decided to consciously press “pause” on my thoughts and think this through. I began coaching myself up.

I changed the tone

I imagined someone else, someone stronger and bolder and more evolved than me, standing there. I imagined this woman’s self-acceptance, self-approval, self-love, as she gazed back at herself with pride.

“Damn, I look good!” I said to myself. The voice was quiet. I wasn’t quite sure I believed it, but I continued. “I’m burning up the place!” I whispered, this time with more conviction.

Right there, standing in that small, windowless room in a leopard-print bathing suit, I practiced seeing myself with new eyes. I intentionally reprogrammed my negative self-talk. I befriended myself.

A smile started to curve at the edges of my lips as I continued gazing in the mirror, if not in full belief, then at least with amusement. This was kind of fun. I could do this.

And then something strange happened. Suddenly, I wasn’t totally hating what I saw in the mirror. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t too bad either.

I imagined I was a good friend trying on this bathing suit. How would I react to her? I wouldn’t focus on any one aspect of her body, I’d take in the whole package. I’d admire her sense of style. I’d notice if the color was eye-catching. I’d make sure it was a good fit.

I actually liked what I saw

So, I stopped zeroing in on the jiggly skin and dimples, and finally saw the full me: shiny dark hair, wise golden eyes, a sturdy frame housed in a spunky, modestly sexy one-piece. I stopped obsessing over all the things I disliked and allowed myself to see the big picture.

Just then, I caught my daughter’s eye in the mirror again. She was still watching me. She beamed at me proudly.

From that day forward, I pledged never again to bully myself in front of my daughter.

I don’t always get it right on the first try. I could have a wonderful time out with my family, only to later scroll through the photos on my phone and feel that familiar gut-punch when I spot an unflattering shot. The difference is, I notice it now. And as soon as I do, I deliberately choose to redirect it. I challenge myself to find three nice things to say. Kind things. True things. Things I would say to a friend.

Because the way I speak to myself will one day become the voice my daughter hears in her own head. And I want that voice to be as strong and empowered as the woman I see in the mirror now.

• Nicholas Sparks is, without a doubt, the king of romance novels.
• Sparks has released 24 books, and 11 have been adapted into movies.
• “The Notebook,” “Dear John,” and “A Walk To Remember” are among his best.

Any romance reader knows Nicholas Sparks isn’t just an author — he’s practically a genre of his own: the kind that promises sweeping love stories, emotional gut-punches, and at least one moment that will have you staring at the page in disbelief.

The American writer has spent decades dominating bestseller lists with stories that blend heartfelt devotion with inevitable heartbreak.

From “The Notebook” to “A Walk to Remember,” his books have become cultural staples, many of which have made the jump from page to screen with massive success.

But are they all unforgettable masterpieces? Not exactly.

Here are five of the best Nicholas Sparks novels and five you can skip. First: his must-read books.

5. ‘The Longest Ride’

A Nicholas Sparks must-read is “The Longest Ride,” which follows two interconnected love stories: Ira Levinson, an elderly man reflecting on his lifelong love for his late wife, Ruth, and Sophia Danko, a college student who falls for Luke Collins, a professional bull rider. As Sophia and Luke navigate their own relationship and the obstacles in their path, Ira’s memories unfold alongside theirs, revealing parallels between the two couples.

The New York Times bestseller, released in 2013, deftly weaves these two love stories together, creating a feeling that is deeply personal. The contrast between Ira and Ruth’s enduring, decadeslong relationship and Sophia and Luke’s more immediate, uncertain romance adds emotional depth and complexity.

The book shows how love can evolve over time through loss and amid difficult choices. There’s also something moving about how art, memory, and sacrifice tie everything together, giving the novel a more reflective, lasting impact.

If you love the book as I do, the movie — released in 2015 and starring Clint Eastwood and Britt Robertson — is equally good.

“The Longest Ride” had a modest box-office performance, grossing about $63 million worldwide against a $34 million budget, making it a mild financial success but not a major hit, according to Box Office Mojo.

Plus, who doesn’t want to stare at Scott Eastwood in a cowboy hat?

4. ‘The Last Song’

“The Last Song” is another Nicholas Sparks classic that balances romance with a deeper, more emotional story about family, forgiveness, and growing up.

The New York Times bestseller, released in 2009, follows Ronnie Miller, a rebellious teenager sent to spend the summer with her estranged father in a small beach town. Initially resistant, Ronnie slowly begins to reconnect with him through their shared love of music while also forming a relationship with a local boy, Will. As the summer unfolds, secrets are revealed, and relationships deepen, leading Ronnie to confront difficult truths about love, family, and loss.

Ronnie’s journey feels especially real — she’s not instantly likable, but watching her slowly open up, reconnect with her father, and find love makes the story more meaningful. It’s not just about the relationship; it’s about healing and second chances, giving it a different kind of emotional weight than a typical romance. The mix of love, music, and loss made it a story that really stayed with me.

The movie, released in 2010, stands out because it brings the story’s emotion to life, with Miley Cyrus and Liam Hemsworth. Their on-screen chemistry feels genuine, especially given their real-life relationship that followed (but eventually ended).

“The Last Song” was a box-office success, earning about $89 million worldwide against a $20 million budget, driven largely by strong domestic performance, per Box Office Mojo data.

3. ‘Dear John’

“Dear John” is another of my favorites by Sparks because it captures that specific kind of love that feels intense, real, and a little bit out of reach. The New York Times bestseller was released in 2006.

The story follows John Tyree, a soldier on leave, who falls in love with Savannah Curtis, a college student, during a brief summer together. As John returns to the Army, the two maintain their relationship through letters, navigating the challenges of distance and changing life circumstances.

Over time, their love is tested by duty, personal growth, and unexpected choices, turning their story into a bittersweet exploration of what it means to love someone even when life pulls you in different directions.

This feels like a realistic story: John and Savannah’s relationship is affected by distance, timing, and real-life responsibilities.

There’s something especially emotional about the way their connection unfolds through letters, giving their love story a sense of intimacy and longing. It’s not a perfect or easy romance, and that’s part of why it resonates — it shows how love can be powerful even when it doesn’t work out the way you hope.

The “Dear John” movie keeps the book’s emotional heart, while making the romance feel more like Channing Tatum and Amanda Seyfried brought the characters to life. Seeing their story play out in the 2010 film adds another layer to the longing and heartbreak, making the film hit just as hard as the novel.

The “Dear John” movie earned about $115 million worldwide against a $25 million budget, per Box Office Mojo, driven by a strong opening weekend despite mixed reviews.

2. ‘A Walk To Remember’

“A Walk to Remember” is another Sparks staple, released in 1999. It tells a simple, heartfelt story that somehow hits incredibly hard.

The New York Times bestseller follows Landon Carter, a popular but aimless high school senior, whose life takes an unexpected turn when he’s forced to participate in a school play and ends up spending time with Jamie Sullivan, the quiet, deeply religious daughter of the town’s minister.

As their relationship grows, Landon begins to see the world and himself differently through Jamie’s kindness, faith, and unwavering sense of purpose.

What starts as an unlikely connection develops into a profound love story, ultimately revealing deeper truths about compassion, sacrifice, and the lasting impact one person can have on another.

It doesn’t rely on grand twists — it’s the emotional buildup and inevitability of the ending that really stayed with me. It’s one of those books that feels tender and honest, and it lingers long after you finish.

Not only is the book one to remember, but so is the film, which was released in 2002.

Mandy Moore and Shane West bring Jamie and Landon to life in a way that highlights their growth and chemistry, making their relationship feel authentic. These roles couldn’t have been cast better.

According to Box Office Mojo, “A Walk to Remember” earned about $47.5 million worldwide against a $11.8 million budget.

If you haven’t read the book or seen the movie, I’d highly recommend it. Don’t forget the tissues.

1. ‘The Notebook’

“The Notebook” is, hands down, my favorite Nicholas Sparks book. Who doesn’t love Noah and Allie’s love story?

“The Notebook” was released in 1996. The two young lovers from very different backgrounds fall deeply in love one summer in North Carolina. When life pulls them apart, years pass, and they build separate lives, but their connection never fully fades.

The New York Times bestseller is framed by an older Noah reading their story to Allie in a nursing home, a level of devotion hard to top, turning the novel into something not just about falling in love, but about choosing it again and again.

The love between Noah and Allie feels both idealized and grounded, spanning years, obstacles, and, ultimately, memory loss, making it more powerful than a typical love story. I really admired Noah’s strength and patience.

The movie adaptation of “The Notebook” is one of those rare cases where the film is just as good as the book.

It captures the same sweeping romance and emotional depth, while adding a layer of intensity through Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams’ unforgettable chemistry.

Iconic moments like the rain-soaked reunion bring the story to life in a way that feels just as powerful as it does on the page.

The movie, which earned about $118 million worldwide against a $29 million budget, doesn’t just complement the novel — it stands right alongside it.

Here’s the first book you can skip: ‘Nights in Rodanthe.’

In my opinion, “Nights in Rodanthe” is worth skipping because it feels less emotionally developed than Sparks’s stronger novels.

I know some Sparks fans love this one, but “Nights in Rodanthe” didn’t fully hold my attention. The New York Times bestseller felt a bit thin, with a romance that unfolds too quickly to feel deeply immersive or memorable.

The book “Nights in Rodanthe ” was published in 2002, and a film adaptation was released in 2008, starring Richard Gere and Diane Lane.

Adrienne and Paul’s relationship never quite reaches the emotional depth of Sparks’ more layered love stories, which made it harder for me to fully invest in their connection. While the novel includes his signature themes of longing and heartbreak, I think it ultimately lacks the lasting impact that defines his best work.

‘Dreamland’

“Dreamland,” one of Sparks’ more recent novels and a New York Times bestseller released in 2022, follows two intertwining storylines — a man navigating a complicated relationship and a single father trying to protect his young son — as it explores themes of love, risk, and second chances.

To me, “Dreamland” felt more scattered than cohesive, juggling multiple storylines without fully developing any of them. While it touches on heavier themes, the emotional payoff didn’t land as well for me as in Sparks’ best novels, which made it hard for me to stay invested.

Compared to his more focused, deeply romantic stories, this one feels less memorable and a bit uneven overall.

‘The Wish’

“The Wish,” which came out in 2021, follows Maggie Dawes, a successful photographer, as she reflects on a life-changing teenage romance and the choices that shaped her future, moving between her past and present to explore love, loss, and second chances.

Yes, the New York Times bestseller has the elements of romance and reflection you’d expect, but the story can feel predictable, and the emotional moments didn’t hit me as hard as in his stronger novels.

In my opinion, compared to his best work, it lacks that lasting impact that really stays with you.

‘Counting Miracles’

The next Nicholas Sparks book I’d skip is one of his newer books that came out in 2024, “Counting Miracles.”

The New York Times bestseller follows a group of characters whose lives intersect as they grapple with love, loss, and the idea of fate, ultimately exploring how small, unexpected moments can shape a life.

I felt like “Counting Miracles” tried a little too hard to be emotional, without the depth that makes Sparks’ best books stand out. Rather than being moving and uplifting, the story and characters felt pretty predictable, which made it harder for me to stay interested or really connect with it.

It just wasn’t my favorite, to be honest.

‘The Return’

My final skip goes to “The Return,” released in 2020. The book follows Trevor Benson, a wounded Army doctor who returns home to North Carolina after his grandfather’s death.

While adjusting to a quieter life, he becomes involved with a local sheriff’s deputy, Natalie, and forms an unexpected bond with a young girl named Callie, who may hold answers about his grandfather’s past. As Trevor navigates love and unanswered questions, the story explores themes of healing, trust, and second chances.

The New York Times bestseller feels less emotionally gripping and more predictable than Nicholas Sparks’ strongest novels. While it has all the familiar elements — romance, mystery, and personal growth — it doesn’t quite come together in a way that feels fresh or especially memorable, which made it hard for me to stay fully invested.

Ultimately, this story didn’t give me the chills like “The Notebook” or “A Walk To Remember” did.

• Harry and Susan Jones own Bridge Avenue Berries, a blueberry farm in Allenwood, Pennsylvania.
• The farm became USDA organic certified in 2021, boosting customer traffic and interest.
• If they had bought the farm 30 years ago, they would have likely grown a more diverse set of crops.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Harry Jones, 63, who owns and runs Bridge Avenue Berries with his wife, Susan, in Allenwood, Pennsylvania. It has been edited for length and clarity.

Since I was a kid, I’d always wanted to run my own business, but it never quite came together. I tried starting a small tree nursery business, but we couldn’t compete with the big nurseries and had to close it.

Then, a blueberry farm that my wife and I had been picking berries at for years went up for sale. When I first mentioned buying it, she said, “Absolutely not.”

A few months later, we were there picking blueberries, and the farm still hadn’t sold. We started talking with the owner and purchased it in March 2018.

We didn’t have much time to figure it out. Blueberry season starts in early July, and we had about four months to get ready.

That first summer, it felt like we were drinking from a fire hose. We were learning everything at once — pests, soil, customers — mostly the hard way.

I wasn’t starting from scratch, but owning a farm still surprised me

My background is in horticulture. I have an associate degree in nursery management, and I spent years designing landscapes. So, I’ve been around plants most of my life.

Still, running a blueberry farm is a different kind of challenge.

We have about 7 acres of blueberries — roughly 3,800 plants — and we harvest around 18,000 pounds a year.

The catch is that it all happens in about a 30-day window in July. That month is intense, but the work doesn’t end with the season. The rest of the year is spent on preparing for the next one.

I’ve kept my full-time job in the lumber industry through all of this. We tend to call the farm my self-supporting hobby, but the truth is, even a small farm like ours struggles to make a dollar.

By the time you pay for inputs, repairs, improvements, and all the other costs that come with a small business, there’s not much left.

If I were younger, I’d do it differently

At this stage of life, I think differently about what the farm should be. If I were 25 or 30 years younger, I wouldn’t run it the way I do now.

Right now, we’re heavily focused on one crop. If I were starting earlier, I’d cut the number of blueberry bushes down — maybe from 3,800 to about 2,000 — and use the rest of the land for other crops. Strawberries, raspberries, pumpkins — something to stretch income across more of the year.

That’s the biggest challenge with what we do. When you rely on a single crop and a short season, it’s hard to build a stable living.

We’ve found ways to spread out the income a bit. We freeze blueberries — about 1,900 pounds a year — and sell them through the winter at local markets and to restaurants.

Becoming USDA-certified organic was a game changer

We started farming organically from day one in 2018, but it took time to make it official. To become USDA certified organic, we had to go through a required three-year transition period — documenting everything we did, from fertilizers to pest control, and proving we were following the standards.

We finally got certified in spring 2021, and once we could call our berries “USDA organic,” we saw more customers, more traffic, and even people driving an hour or more to pick our fruit.

But over time, the downsides started to add up. The certification cost us about $1,400 a year — a big expense for a small farm — and required inspections and paperwork during our busiest season. More importantly, I grew frustrated with what I saw as inconsistencies in the system.

In early 2024, we gave up our USDA certification and switched to Certified Naturally Grown, a smaller, farmer-led program. It costs about $350 a year and still holds us accountable to the National Organic Program Standards, but in a way that is more transparent and aligned with how we actually farm.

We know we won’t do this forever

Realistically, we’ll probably run the farm for another three to five years and then look to sell it, so that we can have more freedom to travel and visit our three kids and nine grandchildren.

I think about what a younger person could do with this place. It’s a productive farm with a lot of potential. Someone with more time and energy could take it further than we have.

Even knowing what I know now, I’d still buy the farm.

We’re happy with what we’ve built. It gave me a chance to finally run my own business and to work with something I’ve always loved — plants. And it’s been meaningful to us to see people come here, enjoy the farm, and tell us how much they like it.

• I asked ChatGPT to identify the unnamed male celebrity who allegedly tried to sext Lena Dunham in 2012.
• It told me it was Don Rickles, which I feel pretty certain is not correct.
• So what are we doing here, folks? Learning to use AI?

Did you hear about the time Don Rickles tried to chat up Lena Dunham in the middle of the night?

No? Let me explain. First, we need to talk about Reese Witherspoon.

See, I’m a simple woman. I have only two interests: tech news and celebrity gossip. So I was naturally intrigued by a recent online fuss over Reese Witherspoon’s admonition for women to learn to use AI. It sparked so much backlash that she had to issue a follow-up explanation.

I’ve also been intrigued by Lena Dunham’s new book. (They’re related — sort of. Keep reading!)

I think Reese is generally right about AI — she’s saying the same thing that every other business leader is saying. But her comments did make me think a little more about what “Learn to use AI” even means. Writing emails with ChatGPT? Understanding the technology behind different models? Vibe coding? What level of “using AI” is expected here to stave off falling behind in the workforce and life in general?

One area I’ve really leaned into is using ChatGPT as a sort of super Google — to find something I know is online but would take some effort to dig up with a normal search engine.

A recent example? It’s related to — of course — celebrity gossip.

I was reading Dunham’s new memoir, “Famesick,” which is full of moderately juicy celebrity gossip about named people and also blind items — celebrity gossip that gives a few clues about the identity of the person without naming them, a fun little riddle for the readers to solve.

One blind item is about an unnamed male celebrity who — allegedly — sent Lena a flirty late-night text message after meeting her backstage while taping “The View” in 2012. I figured I could solve this blind item by finding out who the other guest was on the same episode — information that should be online somewhere, but would take me forever to find.

So I asked ChatGPT to identify the male guest on “The View” episode that Lena was also on that year. At first, ChatGPT told me that it was only the four female cast members from the show. When I asked again who the other male guest was, the suggestions were Chris Evans and Chris Hemsworth. (Not so. They appeared on a separate episode that same year, according to IMDb.)

That time Don Rickles chatted up Lena Dunham

When I said, “No, a comedian,” as Dunham had described the man, ChatGPT confidently provided a new answer: It was legendary comedian Don Rickles who’d texted Dunham after the show.

I laughed out loud because of all the possibilities of who sent a late-night “u up?” text, I feel fairly certain it was not Don Rickles, who would’ve been 85 years old at the time.

Dunham’s description of the man: “a bit of an American Hugh Grant, famous for that sort of chattery charm and his ability to woo his onscreen paramours with his fast-talking, hand-flapping anxiety. Ostensibly a comedian, he was there to promote his Gothic-tinted movie, where he had made a dramatic turn.” Doesn’t exactly sound like a Borscht Belt insult comic Don Rickles to me.

After spending way too much time searching the internet for answers on this — the old-fashioned way — I can make some guesses about how and why ChatGPT was so wrong here. IMDb’s episode guide for episodes of “The View” from 2012 is spotty, with entries for some episodes missing information about guests, and no accessible video clips online. The only proof I found that Lena Dunham ever appeared on “The View” on April 20, 2012, was a Vulture blog post from that day, complete with an embedded YouTube clip that has been marked private.

Knowing this, I can start to see how AI got confused: When there’s a lack of information, AI sometimes blurs together what it can find to try to spit out a plausible answer. Chris Evans and Chris Hemsworth appeared on the May 4, 2012, episode of “The View,” and Dunham and Rickles appeared together on an episode in 2016.

ChatGPT doing this kind of thing — basically, taking a guess at what you might want to hear — could be useful if you’re trying to write an email to a friend, maybe? It’s not useful, obviously, if you’re looking for a specific fact and it just plain makes something up.

For the record: Neither Lena nor Don (who died in 2017) nor the National Comedy Center, which is the keeper of the Rickles archive, responded to my requests for comment.

Are we stuck in a pizza glue loop?

Look, I get it. It’s not particularly exciting to point out that ChatGPT gets things wrong in the spring of 2026. We know this, or at least we all should know this. Still, I keep coming across so many obvious mistakes when asking AI for factual things. These are the glaring mistakes I catch when I know that what AI has generated is not the right answer.

But what about the mistakes that I don’t catch — or don’t even know to catch? Things that I blindly accept as fact? For work-related stuff, I’ll always double-check, but in those cases, am I actually saving myself any time?

How soon will this improve? Will we be stuck in a pizza glue loop forever? Is this what’s going to make a bunch of lawyers and tax CPAs lose their jobs? I mean, OK, sure.

Here’s where Witherspoon’s and other bosses’ idea of “Learn to use AI!” feels frustrating. I feel fairly confident about using various AI tools and have a decent concept of how they work. I am a woman, and I have learned to use AI! And yet, here I am, still unsatisfied.

There’s a gap between what Reese Witherspoon wants for me and what I want out of AI — and the wholesome image of comedy legend Don Rickles. For now, those things just aren’t lining up right.