When the Future Comes Knockin' at Your Screen Door

I was sitting at my favorite coffee shop in Fredericksburg last week, watching tourists, when it hit me: half the people on their phones were probably using AI to edit those social media shots.

The same AI that's been both saving my bacon and keeping me up at night as I run Hill Country Insider.

I've been making a living online since 2012, long enough to remember when getting a website was the "big thing."

Then it was social media.

Then video.

But this AI revolution? It's different, folks. It's not just another tool in the toolboxit's like somebody invented electricity while we were all getting better at making candles.

Here's what's working for me right now:

My small team is cranking out three times the content we used to manage.

AI helps us catch typos, suggests better headlines, and even helps us predict what stories our readers might want next. Truly, I'm saving money and serving people better.

But—and this is a big but—I'm also watching some scary stuff unfold:

Half my photographer friends are panicking because AI image generation is getting scary good....

Local artists who used to make good money doing commission work for businesses? They're seeing requests dry up because people can generate "good enough" art with AI....

And don't get me started on trying to hire new people. Do I need traditional skills or AI skills? Both? Neither? The job descriptions I wrote six months ago already feel outdated.

The speed of change is what really gets me. I signed up for Midjourney in February, feeling pretty proud of myself for being ahead of the curve. By April, there were three better options. By summer, what I'd learned was already old news. It's like trying to get your footing on a river bottom during flood season - just when you think you're stable, the current shifts.

One of my good friends ran a notable store in Hill Country, and, back in his prime, change came slow enough to adapt. You could see what was coming down the pike and adjust accordingly.

This AI thing?

It's like trying to drink from a fire hose while riding a bucking bronco at a Mansfield Park rodeo.

Some mornings I wake up excited about all the possibilities - maybe finally being able to compete with those big Austin and San Antonio publications or ramp up one of my online stores to eight figures. Other mornings? I toss around at 3 AM wondering if in five years AI will be writing this whole publication better than I ever could, setting up online stores from idea to acquisition, and trying to teach my kids better than I can....

But here's what I know for sure: ignoring it isn't an option. I tried to at first, until I realized my e-commerce competition isn't ignoring AI, and we can leverage it to our benefit. I can't ignore it, and neither can any astute business-person.

For me, I can't ignore the AI revolution if I want Hill Country Insider to be here for my kids. Not if I want my e-commerce stores to sell in the future or be among my kids' first jobs.

So I'm learning, adapting, and trying to stay ahead while keeping our Hill Country authenticity. Because AI might be able to write about cedar fever and the best swimming holes, but it can't understand what it means to be part of this community. It can't share true experiences.

...At least not yet.

And that's what keeps me going—knowing that while AI can help us tell our stories better, faster, and to more people, it can't replace the human connection that makes our Hill Country community special.

How This Tech is Actually Changing How We Work

You know how every rancher has their favorite tractor? Or maybe that's just me? Well, AI tools have become our new digital workhorses, and just like tractors, some are better than others.

Let me walk you through what's actually happening—a first-hand look into AI as it affects us at Hill Country Insider:

Long days of transcription are a thing of the past. Even just last year, I was transcribing videos and audio, and now we've got AI handling those transcriptions and first drafts. But here's the thing: you can't just let it run wild. It's like having an eager intern who's read every book about Texas but never actually been here.

The infrastructure part is fascinating and frustrating in equal measure. My tech budget looks like a longhorn steer these days—impressive but occasionally terrifying. And don't get me started on the power bills from running all this equipment and handful of computers, TVs, more tablets than pounds I gain at Thanksgiving.... Last month's electric bill had me wondering if we'd accidentally started mining bitcoin (which, by the way, I still don't understand).

Here's something nobody talks about much: the weird way AI is changing how our local businesses advertise. Take old hardware store we all know and love and choose over the big-name stores. For nearly 20 years, he relied on virtually the same ad to run in the local paper. Now? We're helping him use AI to create targeted social campaigns that change based on weather patterns and local events. When a cold front's coming, his heater maintenance ads automatically adjust. It's incredible... and a little unsettling.

But here's what keeps me thinking:

All this technology is great for efficiency, but are we losing something?

These tools are making us better at our jobs in measurable ways, but sometimes I wonder if they're making us worse at being human in ways we can't measure. Still, it's not unlike barbed wire when it first came around: it's here to stay, so we better learn to work with it without getting too cut up.

An Honest Look at AI in the Hill Country: The Content Conundrum 

Let me tell you about the strangest part of my job these days. Every morning, I'm essentially teaching machines how to tell Hill Country stories without sounding like they just rolled in from Silicon Valley.

We've started doing this dance with our content creation. AI handles what I call the "bones"—the basic structure, the routine updates, the initial drafts. It's surprisingly good at remembering every detail about every winery between Johnson City and Fredericksburg (and Lord knows there are plenty). But when it comes to describing a little family-owned spot? That still needs a human who's actually sat on their porch and watched the sunset. You can't completely teach bots to talk Texas.

The biggest challenge is maintaining our voice. I spend a good chunk of time making sure our AI assists don't make us sound like we're writing for tourists from Manhattan (though we sure do appreciate their business, haha.).

But we've had our share of mishaps, and that's a danger of entrusting AI too much. Like the time the AI helped write a piece about snake safety and suggested people try to "peacefully negotiate" with rattlesnakes. Live and learn: I didn't entrust AI to outline my article on brown recluses after I'd just gotten bitten; it probably would have described the encounter as another poor negotiation between creatures.

Or when it described tubing the Guadalupe as a "serene meditation experience": clearly, it had never seen Memorial Day weekend. Each goof teaches us something about the balance between efficiency and authenticity.

AI is akin to mainstay kitchen gadgets: They're helpful, but they can't taste the food. AI can help us tell our stories better, faster, and to more people, but it can't feel the heart of what makes the Hill Country special. That part? That still has to come from us humans who love this land and these people.

The Local Business Shuffle

Picture this scene:

You're sitting at a local brewing company in Johnson City, having a cold one with some local business owners, and the conversation gets real interesting real quick. Sarah, who runs a boutique everyone loves, pulls out her phone to show us how she's using AI to predict what boots will be popular next season. She's got her social media banners and daily posts fully manned by AI. In fact, AI even helped her beyond her professional scope; it helped formulate a seriously impressive Christmas list for her nieces and nephews. A lot of the items on the Christmas list, she reasons, will be great for her customers at the boutique, too.

Meanwhile, Joe from the feed store was shaking his head, saying he'll stick to knowing his customers the old-fashioned way: by talking to them.

That right there pretty much sums up where we are in the Hill Country business scene: caught between tradition and this new tech tornado.

I'm watching this play out in ways that are both fascinating and frankly, a little heartbreaking.

The wedding industry out here has gone completely nuts with AI, in some respects, I think. Every venue from Dripping Springs to Fredericksburg is using AI to create virtual tours, custom wedding plans, designs, and even help write those "rustic but elegant" marketing descriptions (ironically, they all sound the same)....

But here's where it gets tricky: These AI tools are widening the gap between businesses that can adapt and those that can't.

The younger folks running the new wineries in Stonewall? They're all over this, using AI for everything from crop management to customer engagement. Meanwhile, some of our oldest family businesses are struggling to keep up, and it hurts to watch. It's not to say that just because someone is from one generation that they will or won't have a hold on AI and its purported benefits, but there seems to be a correlation.

We're trying to help bridge that gap at Hill Country Insider. We've started offering what we call our "Digital Ranch Hand" service - helping local businesses figure out this AI stuff without losing their authentic Hill Country charm. You can reach out to us for a free guide anytime; just let us know via email here. 

Ready for a surprising success story example? Take a dear client who makes pie. Other-worldly pie. She was about ready to shutter her local pie enterprise entirely, but she embraced top apps and software, mostly governed by AI, to streamline her ordering system and create social media buzz. Now she's shipping her pecan pies all over not just Texas but the USA, with AI helping her predict exactly how many she needs to make each week. Still uses her grandmother's recipe, not one generated by AI. Some things you don't let the robots touch.

Thing is, every business out here is having to dance this new two-step: keep what makes them special while using these new tools to stay competitive. It's like trying to preserve the soul of an old dance hall while installing modern air conditioning—necessary but needs to be done right.

Finding Our Way Forward

I've shared about what's really just the tip of the iceberg in how AI is reshaping Hill Country, Texas. Seems fitting to wrap this up with some hard-earned truth:

AI is like the Oak wilt out herein that it's pervasive, and we've got to figure out how to live with it.

But unlike wilt, we might actually be able to make this invasion work for us.

The Hill Country has always been a place where old meets new in interesting ways; just look at how many historic attractions now have websites and Instagram accounts and draw in all ages.

At Hill Country Insider, we've made our peace with this new reality by setting some firm boundaries. Our new policy is pretty simple: let the machines handle the heavy lifting, but keep human hearts and minds in charge of what matters.

Oh, and this:

Fact-check, fact-check, fact-check.

To my fellow Hill Country business owners reading this, don't be afraid of technology, but don't let it make you forget who you are, either. Use it like you'd use any other tool: thoughtfully, purposefully, and always in service of what makes your business special.