I’ll need 30 minutes to brine and prep… they need to rest for a while… and then at least 2 hours in the oven so they’re soft and tender. So, who’s eating ribs?
While waiting at the Houston airport for our flight to Phoenix, we had time to spare. It was a 4-hour layover and we were already sitting at the gate.
If you’re wondering why we were in Houston—check our previous story. It’ll help explain.
Abundance, Scarcity… and the Systems We Forget to Update 046
Ok, you stay with grandma… I’ll try and run to the door.
Alfredo, my mom’s boyfriend, had been looking forward to this trip since we started planning it. He was very excited to eat a big American-style burger. He was very adamant about the big part.
He was hungry, and so was my mom. I asked the rest of the group if they were too… and they said nah. Mafer and Grandma had eaten during the flight and weren’t hungry anymore.
Pro Tip: When traveling long flights, especially with layovers, bring a snack.
Since I bake my own bread, I made sourdough before we left town. Got some Italian mortadella with pistachios, Asiago cheese, and raspberry jam. Sandwiches it was. Mafer prepped them that morning.
My mom made some for her, Alfredo, and Grandma. Most of us ate at least half before boarding. Then we had the rest closer to noon, mid-air.
So when the burger idea came up, I wasn’t really hungry… but I wanted to keep the group mood alive and went with the flow.
We started looking for a restaurant. I remembered one called something like Fire from my last time in Houston… but we ended up choosing Ember. It was close to our gate, and we didn’t want to wander too far from where my mom and grandma were sitting.
I ordered a hot chicken sandwich.
We got back, and I shared it with Grandma. She ended up eating all my fries—which was funny, because she wasn’t hungry at all.
Mafer was smarter. She got herself an iced chai latte and just chilled while we waited for my mom to finish her burger.
Then my mom walks up and goes,
“Oh, by the way—Orlando called. He’s making risotto tonight.”
What?
I said, “Risotto? After a whole burger with fries? Are you crazy?”
Alfredo jumped in, “I think he said something else… not risotto.”
And my mom said, “No! He said risotto!”
I decided to let time sort it out. Either way, I wanted coffee.
“I need an espresso,” I said. Mafer and I went for a walk. She got some makeup at duty-free. I browsed whiskeys and bourbons. Got my espresso, enjoyed it, and called my uncle.
“Quick question: Why are you making risotto tonight? Isn’t that a bit heavy?”
He replied, “I’m not making risotto. I already made gazpacho. It’s too hot in Phoenix, and I know you’re arriving late.”
(Alfredo was right.)
And by the way…it was amazing. Fresh, savory, like a proper summer liquid salad. Gracias, Tío.
The Game
As part of their hospitality, Brad and Orlando got us tickets to a Diamondbacks game.
After some debate, we took a Waymo. Again. And I won’t get tired of saying this: It’s great!
This was only my third time, but the experience doesn’t get old.
You step out of a self-driving car, and you start wondering… why are we still driving?
Later on, I was talking with Mafer about it and she asked,
“Is this just another thing we’re giving up to AI?”
I said nope.
To me, this is one of the best use cases for AI.
It probably costs less, in the long run, to build and maintain self-driving fleets than to keep trusting human drivers.
I know the tech feels expensive, but it’s accurate, reliable, and consistent. Better than us.
Sure, I love driving on a highway like anyone else. Speed, open road, good tunes…
And this is coming from someone who’s done it this week in the Utah desert blasting Black Sabbath, Judas Priest, Komodo, Pantera, Lamb of God, Avenged Sevenfold, Iron Maiden…you name it.
But as a system?
It’s not safer than automation.
Self-driving means fewer human errors. No fatigue, no distractions. And it opens up new possibilities.
Cars gave us the power to live miles away from work. Roads became bridges to jobs, markets, and opportunities.
Now, self-driving can give us back time.
Think of someone commuting an hour each way.
That’s 2 hours lost. Or… it could be used for reading, sleeping, meditating, or just daydreaming to music.
A city, at its core, is just a mechanism to reduce the space between home and job.
This idea is explored in depth in the book Abundance—I encourage you to read it. It refers to how the closer you are to a city, the more access you have to its wealth. It sounds silly and obvious at the same time… and it is.
Take this, for example. In the book Upstart Spring, they explore how Esalen, a center for free thought on the California coast, brought together brilliant minds who sparked a whole movement. Psychologists, technologists, and spiritual thinkers all hanging out barefoot, experimenting with ideas.
Same happened when Lord Byron, Mary Shelley, and her husband Percy Shelley spent time together. A group of free thinkers in the same place—talking, writing, challenging each other—created stories that still live with us centuries later.
That’s why places like Silicon Valley exist. Yes, it’s ridiculously expensive. Yes, salaries for software engineers can be 3x higher than elsewhere. But take Walmart—they could’ve set up their e-commerce operations anywhere in the U.S.
Why bet on Silicon Valley?
Because they knew their hires, after work, would hang out with other brilliant minds. Maybe someone from OpenAI, or Google. They’d talk shop over beers, smoke a little, grill something—and ideas would spark.
That’s community. That’s proximity.
That’s what brings us to the next level as humans.
Not how well you drive your SUV in traffic.
So back to the story…
We got to the game in our Waymo. The experience? Great. The seats? Amazing. Thank you Brad!
We had a couple of hot dogs and beers….because hey … we are at a baseball game in the US… so why not?
Paid 57 bucks.
Yes. You read that right.
Hot dogs and beer. 57 dollars.
Then we met John.
He was selling drinks, but the real story was this: John is about to travel to Panama.
He never imagined meeting four people from Panama at a baseball game in Arizona. So he asked us everything…tips, feedback, what to do, what not to do.
And then…
My mom really wanted a ball.
She spent the whole game asking the players for one. Dancing, waving, trying to get their attention.
Bottom of the 9th. It’s raining. Brad’s on his way. I say,
“This is it. Now or never. Once the game ends, it’s gonna be packed outside.”
I walk up the stairs. Look back. No one’s behind me.
They’re down there taking photos.
So I go back to rally the group…
And just then, a ball falls right where we were sitting.
Damn.
Because of my sudden sense of urgency… we missed it.
Sorry, mom.
But I’m sidetracking here....Back to the story...it’ll make sense.
The Wheelchair Example
Alfredo brought up the Waymo topic again the next day…July 4th…while I was writing and waiting for the ribs to finish.
“So… what’s that thing you mentioned yesterday—human-centric design?”
Well. Let me explain.
“Human-centered design is a philosophy, not a precise set of methods, but one that assumes that innovation should start by getting close to users and observing their activities.”
— Donald A. Norman, co‑founder of the Nielsen Norman Group
Let’s say there’s a disabled person who can’t walk. A group of university students gets tasked with designing a solution. They go wild…self-driving AI wheelchair, maybe one that hovers, charges on solar, and syncs with an app.
But here’s the question:
Have they even talked to that person?
Do they know how they move around daily, what hurts, what helps, where they live, what’s realistic?
Until you understand the person’s pain points, and the context around them, you can’t build something that adds real value.
Maybe they don’t need a high-tech chair. Maybe they need better sidewalks. Or human assistance. Or a non-slip ramp.
All those cool features? Great ideas. But not necessarily a solution.
That’s what human-centric design is about.
Don’t start from the process or the tech.
Start from the person.
Later that day, Alfredo told me he had shared the wheelchair example with his students…and it caught them off guard. It hadn’t even crossed their minds that this was a valid way to approach design.
That night, we swam, ate well, and had a blast. I made BBQ salmon, Orlando cooked up his signature spicy corn on the cob, and Mafer brought out her potato salad…I helped with the homemade mayo.
The ribs? Absolutely delicious.
And to top it all off, two amazing desserts Mafer made for us. We were spoiled.
I made so many ribs I even brought some to Utah. But more on that in our next issue.
Design Simple, Deliver Value
So here’s the thing: are we designing the flashiest wheelchair, or the one that makes someone’s daily life better?
Take my baseball game moment. The experience was good. But because of one human decision, it could’ve been better…for my mom.
That’s the same kind of decision that makes us forget a stop sign… speed just a little… or not look both ways.
And self-driving cars?…this is where we bring in the stats:
There are currently around 200 Waymo cars operating across 315 square miles of Metro Phoenix, fully driverless since October 2020. Waymo’s U.S. fleet now exceeds 1,500 vehicles, with plans to scale to 3,500 by the end of 2026. Each carries a hardware suite worth well over $100,000, including about $12,700 in sensors. And while it felt like the future to us…
Waymo’s vehicles don’t just feel futuristic—they’re measurably safer too. Across the 56.7 million driverless miles they’ve driven, Waymo has achieved:
93% fewer pedestrian injury crashes
81% fewer cyclist injury crashes
88% fewer serious crashes overall
—compared to human-driven vehicles on the same roads .
Additionally, a Swiss Re study found up to 92% fewer bodily‑injury claims and 88% fewer property‑damage claims for Waymo than for human-driven vehicles, over 25 million autonomous miles .
Across 7.1 million rider‑only miles, Waymo’s crash rates were still 80% lower for injury‑reported crashes and 55% lower for police‑reported crashes compared to human benchmarks .
In short: Waymo isn’t just convenient…it may be saving lives and reducing accidents too…
Giving us abundance, in its own way.
And while it might feel normal in Phoenix, for us? It felt like stepping into the future.
And I stand by what I said back in 2023:
Self-driving cars drive better than me.
And I say that with full respect for automation.
Sure, we still need regulations, market normalization, cultural shifts—all the hard parts. But I truly believe that in the end, it’s for the better.
It’ll push us beyond what we currently take for granted.
Because we humans weren’t born to drive.
Driving came with the invention of the car.
So what’s the next step?
Maybe we’ll create something cooler—something better for society.
But hey, that’s just me and my thoughts…
Still, my point is this:
Why not let AI help us with the mundane stuff—those repetitive tasks that, with proper training, it will surely do better than us?
We’re not hammering with our hands anymore. We’re not cutting with our teeth.
We’re not out chasing animals with spears or foraging in the woods to survive.
We invented knives, stoves, washing machines, GPS, dishwashers… even the snooze button.
Because that’s what we do.
We create tools to improve our lifestyle.
But here’s the catch… at least the one I see…those tools should be designed with humans at the center.
Not just for profit.
Not just for process.
But for real people, solving real problems, in ways that make life better.
That’s why this week, while I focused on family, hiking, and also working…
I left the audio narration of this newsletter entirely to my now-trained-with-my-voice AI editor.
(It’s getting good, right?)
That week, we had gazpacho and family after long days.
Grandma, Mom, Mafer, Orlando, Brad, Alfredo, and me.
Sometimes, these little, simple things—not the flashiest—make the best memories.
If you liked this, share it with someone who’s wondering how to improve product design.
And follow us…next week’s story is about survival, veal… and dunes.
Stay tuned.