A Christmas Greeting from the Director

Merry Christmas Staff and Volunteers,

This Christmas finds our staff, retired staff, and volunteers spread out from one end of the nation to the other. Rest assured that the Admiral of the Space Center is here in Pleasant Grove minding the base. Our simulators are enjoying a well-needed rest. Each one parked, snoozing, and waiting to be woken by a flight director at the beginning of the `Long Stretch' to Spring Vacation.

This 'Long, Dreaded, Stretch', is the time of the school year only understood by the educational community and students. This desert of time runs from January to April. Its landscape is marked by a few, one-day holidays and nothing else. Teachers survive the 'Long Stretch' by rationing their sanity and patience into weekly packages.

Each Monday one parcel of sanity is opened and inserted into the appropriate mental slot. By Wednesday, students begin sensing the supply is waning. This is usually demonstrated by the teacher's quivering lip and a seemingly innocent twitch over the left eye - a warning sign that something dark and sinister is bubbling in a dark place.

Thursday is the bleakest day. It marks the end of the teacher's working supply of patience. This is the day teachers earn their notorious reputation by verbally striking out at children with swords of satiric comment and bullets of snide and degrading remarks describing their student's mental abilities. Thursday finds teachers sticking pins into the pictures of their 'deserving' students on 'The Bulletin Board' kept hidden from public view in most faculty rooms. At the beginning of each school year the Board is cursed by a practitioner of the Voodoo arts. The ritual begins with hours of chanting accompanied by shaking rattles. This is followed by the sacrificing of a chicken (recently modified by replacing a real chicken with a 9 piece McNuggets from McDonalds to satisfy the animal rights advocates in the educational community. Although not as effective, it is less messy). The Board is ready for use once it is properly prepared.


On Thursdays one is reminded of the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem as you watch teachers gaze at the hundreds of pictures on the Board. The chanting, the rocking, the occasional weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth are all there. Many of you have wondered why you suddenly
take sick at school. Now you understand. I could tell you more but I'm taking a calculated risk writing what I've written.

Friday's wisps of sanity are fueled by fumes only. The Fumes of Patience have a calming effect on teachers when combined with warm thoughts of a weekend. I know the long stretch from January to May is hard on students also. Best thing to do is keep a positive attitude and work hard. When you are working hard the time goes faster.

Seriously, I want to wish all of you a very Merry Christmas. It has been a pleasure working with the finest young adults in Utah Valley this past year. I'm honored that you consider the Space Center worthy of your valuable time. I wish I could give each of you a gift but we have simulators to build and things to repair. Instead you have my thanks and, upon request, a good missionary handshake. Enjoy this holiday season with family and friends and be all the more ready to come back. There are thousands of children waiting anxiously for their upcoming missions and you make it happen!


Merry Christmas Friends,
Mr. Williamson

Charlie Brown's Christmas Sorrow

Charlie Brown : “Will it ever stop snowing?”
Linus: “You seem a little depressed today Charlie Brown. Although it isn’t unusual to find you depressed on any given morning, you would think a no school day paired with Christmas would be enough kindling to ignite some kind of holiday spirit.”
Charlie Brown: “What are you talking about. Why don't you speak English? I swear I don’t understand half of what you say. Why can’t I have a friend that speaks my language?!”
Linus: “Bad Day. Not Good. You Sad. You make me sad. You be happy soon?”
Charlie Brown: “Good Grief”

(a pause in the conversation allows both boys to draw figures in the snow. Linus picks up the conversation trying to brighten Charlie's mood)

Linus: “Peppermint Patty is having her annual Peppermint Christmas party tonight. Will you be going? If so, will you be accompanied by your pleasant mood?”
Charlie Brown: “I didn’t get an invitation. Did everybody get an invitation?”
Linus: “I’m guessing they did. It looks like Snoopy has his."

(Snoopy is seen in the distance removing his leather jacket, aviator's cap and goggles. He enters his dog house and exits with an invitation in one hand and his Christmas dog collar in the other. He does a little dance and then, in a flash, is off down the street)

Charlie Brown: “Sigh”
Linus: “Cheer up Charlie Brown. You can come with me. The invitation says you can come in Christmas costume. I wasn't going to dress up but I have an idea. I can wrap my blanket around my head and go as a shepherd. You can put your mom’s wool coat on and come as a sheep.”
Charlie Brown: “Good Grief”

(There is another pause. Linus tries to catch snowflakes on his tongue. Charlie stares blankly ahead watching Lucy drag her 'Psychiatric Booth' out from the garage and out to the driveway).

Linus: “You know what you need. You need to see my sister Lucy. For a nickel she can get you felling right as rain. See, she is setting up her booth in the driveway. She’s expanding her practice. She offers online holiday help if you have the internet and a dime. I see she has mom’s cell phone. I gave her the idea to start a holiday crisis help line. Its Perfect for you Charlie Brown. Let’s go inside and give her a call.”
Charlie: “She’s right there on the driveway. Why don’t I just go over and talk to her?”
Linus: “You’ve never been one to keep abreast of modern technology have you?”
Charlie Brown: “Sigh”

(Again, another pause. Linus pulls out Peppermint Patty's invitation to double check the party's starting time. He smells something - a smell everyone recognizes. He looks up to confirm his nose's conclusion).

Linus: “It’s working. She has her first holiday customer. You can tell its PigPen - she’s shrouded in dust. This is fantastic. She promised to share her holiday profits if I keep giving her ideas for business expansion. I want an iPhone for Christmas but I don't think Santa will spring for one this year. I’ve been a good boy but to get an iPhone requires the ability to walk on water. I don't think I've been that good. So.... my share of the psychiatric business's profit will be my standby plan to get one. ”

(Charlie Brown looks at Linus with a look of unbelief. He decides to redirect the conversation)

Charlie Brown: “I’m not going as a sheep. I'll just go. I'm sure she sent an invitation. It must have gotten lost in the mail.”
Linus: “Yes, that must be it. Just like your invitation to the Halloween party. Your invitations are in good company with the millions of socks lost in dryers every year.”
Charlie Brown: “Do you get paid a bonus by your sister to annoy me to the point where I need her help!?”

(Now Linus decides it is time to redirect the conversation to something else)

Linus: “Oh look, I think the snow is increasing in volume.”
Charlie Brown: “I don’t think I’m going to make it through this vacation, even with your quack sister's help.”

(Linus grows perplexed. He has seen Charlie Brown depressed before but this depression seems to be different)

Linus: “What is it Charlie Brown! I’ve never seen you this bad. What’s this anchor on your holiday spirit?”
Charlie Brown: “Do you really want to know. I mean honestly want to know?”
Linus: “I’m your friend, and considering the way things are progressing, soon I’ll be your only friend. Listen Charlie Brown, I guarantee there is nothing so dreadful, awful, depressing or dark that the spirit of Christmas can’t brighten! Come on, throw it at me. I’ll use my Christmas Cheer and bat it out of the park!”
Charlie Brown: “THE SPACE CENTER IS CLOSED UNTIL JANUARY 5TH!
AAAAAAARRRRRUUUUUGGGG. OH THE HUMANITY.............”
Linus: “Gulp”
Charlie Brown: “Let’s see you bat that one ‘out of the park’. Oh yea.......now whose talking Mr. Christmas Cheer. Go on, take that to your sister and see it turn her to the bottle for holiday cheer.”
Linus: “Sigh”
Charlie Brown: “Double Sigh”
Linus: “I take your Double Sigh and raise you two more sighs”
Charlie Brown: “Good Grief.”
Linus: “You got that right.”

Our Ship of Self Esteem Ventures into Weather.

Hello Troops,
Shelley Keyser, a former flight director and all around awesome Space Center supporter, is about to embark on what could be a painful journey into the engine of the Space Center ship of state. Her work on a master's degree will shed light on the Center and its experience. Every aspect of the Center will be evaluated. We will be laid bare for all to see (hence I'm increasing my time at Gold's Gym).

Last week she gave me the first of many papers on the subject. The paper gives an overview of what she wants to accomplish during the next several months. I enjoyed reading it and offer it to all those that are interested in following her research. Shelley's papers concerning the Center will be distributed to anyone making an email request. It will be sent as a PDF document.

Baton down the hatches and make the ship ready for weather. Our ship of self esteem may take a pounding. We may discover we have a well built frigate or may find the wood full of worm. This I promise, if the ship is found unseaworthy and flouders, we will save the women and children first. I will stay at the helm to the end - a captain at the wheel of his ship saluting the powerful force that brought us to judgement's door.......

Mr. Williamson

P.S. I'm excited about this study. It will point out our weaknesses and reinforce our strengths. We are never short on compliments but always hearing the good causes us to sit back on our backsides. Our thanks to Shelley for doing something that needed to be done for the last 18 years.

The Week in Review: December 15-19, 2008

Field Trips Schools and Numbers:
Noah Webster Charter School
Shelley Elementary
Bluffdale Elementary
William Penn Elementary
Total Field Trip Attendance: 259 students

Overnight Camp
No Overnight Camp this Weekend.
Total Overnight Camp Attendance: 0 students

Private Mission Attendance: 75 students

Total Number of Mission Run this Week: 31

Total Weekly Attendance: 334 students.

We Weather the Winter Fellow Troubadours

I enjoy writing - regardless of talent. Some of my writing in this Blog may seem confusing to our non Space Center volunteers and staff. Reading though this Blog you'll read stories about our staff and volunteers set in different times. For example, last week our story was set far into the future on a Starbase. This week the story below is set in the middle ages. I write these simply because I enjoy it. That is why you write my friends - enjoyment. I want to thank you for reading and thank you for the kind comments I receive from time to time on the stories.
Mr. Williamson

We Weather the Winter Fellow Troubadours

The sky and ground blend into perfect white as another snow blankets the shire. The winter stays with us like a lingering cough. Only the brave or foolish venture into the gray woods in search of firewood. All others, forced into close kinship by the cold, huddle near fires to battle the chill with outstretched arms .

Our band of troubadours brighten the mood of the hamlet's peasants and nobleman with story and song, but as the dark cold months pass the task increases in difficulty. With the sun in short company and the dark an ever unwelcome companion, merriment - like fresh meat - is in short supply.

Melancholy hangs in the castle like the tapestries of majestic battles fought long ago. The castle's great rooms and corridors are nearly empty of human company. The gray stones provide a fortress from the wind but share the cold of the air. Our band of Troubadours share a fire and meal. The moon darkens the night by hiding its face but our spirits are bright as we share story and recount memories of our brothers and sisters in far away lands. We pause and reflect on two of our best, Master Casey and Master Bracken. Both exchanged their troubadour vestments for the woolen robes of the traveling friar. Both, having been touched by conviction, travel shire to shire in a distant land called Texashire bringing the good news of the gospel to the unbelieving. The road has challenged their faith but their parchments speak of strength and an inner conviction to give an eternal light to a land famine for the truth. The life of a friar is one of hardship but the rewards are many. We travel with them in thought and prayer as they join our other troubadours who have accepted the path of faith.

Christmas is soon coming. The Great Hall is draped in festive garments. The Baron has decreed a week of light. Extra fires brighten the castle's walls and ceilings with a deep dancing orange color. The crackling and popping of burning wood is heard and the smell of evergreen hangs in the air. Our troop sits in a reflective circle searching for inspiration in each other's eyes. What can we do to contribute to the holiday? The brothers Daymont share a story that draws laughter into the room. It is good and all agree it will be told during a gathering and meal. Lady Emily reaches for her instrument and begs our patience as she tunes. Minutes later she fills the air with a merry melody that seems written to bring smiles to the somber. Yes...... our inspiration is each other. Is there anything our band of storytellers can't do when faced with a challenge. Our reputation of quality is known in every village and shire we have visited. This will be a holiday to be remembered.

We weather the winter, comforted by memories of spring's scents. We wait for the warmth of the coming season and the dust of the road. We long to pack our horses and exchange the company of the castle for the highway as we travel village to village, shire to shire telling our stories.
Courage fellow Troubadours. The love of summer springs from the ice of winter. Today we tell our tales by the fire and lighten the dark's gloom with the sorcery of story. Soon this will end.

The Week in Review: December 8-13, 2008

Field Trips Schools and Numbers:

• Elk Meadows Elementary
• Geneva Elementary
• Rocky Mountain Elementary
• John Hancock Charter School

Total Field Trip Attendance: 324 students

Overnight Camp

• Lakeridge Junior High School 7th and 8th Grade

Total Overnight Camp Attendance: 40 students

Private Missions

• 19 missions.

Total Mission Attendance: 259

Total Weekly Attendance: 623 students

A White Shirt’s Story.

A shocking tale exposing corruption at the highest level - the human brain! This is a tale that could prove evolution is reversing.

Every few years I come to the point in my life where I stop and take an inventory of my bedroom closet. This is the time to give my clothes more attention and ignore the various trinkets occupying much of the shelve space and scattered here and there on the floor . The Clothes I considered out of date (my kind way of saying I can’t squeeze into them any more) are bagged and thrown into my car’s trunk (my car is loving called the Battlestar by staff and friends). I have every intention of promptly delivering them to Deseret Industries but find the old adage ‘out of sight- out of mind’ is true. They sit in my truck until I’ve driven by DI at least a dozen times.
On my last closet cleansing I discovered a few of my Space Center button down shirts were no longer wearable. One was destroyed by the careless application of bleach to a load of colored clothes. I don’t know how it happened and Mother denies any knowledge of the incident. It may have been me but I can’t admit I could be so stupid. It’s best to take the easy route and blame Mother. She can’t rely on her memory so she has no natural defense. I’m training her to just say “Im sorry”. That gives me the high ground where I can dispense forgiveness. Aren’t I the ever gracious and caring son? She may have the last laugh in the end. As she grows more forgetful I find her memory lapses may have dangerous and perhaps fatal consequences. She routinely forgets to turn the stove off. She always leaves lights on. Then there was the incident with her poor parrot. This story involved the wind, an unbalanced birdcage and an interesting and distracting episode of ‘Oprah’. We are lucky she doesn’t smoke or she would blow us all to Kingdom come with the oxygen she keeps by her bed for sleep apnea. Dad keeps track of her. Oh, for those that don’t know, my parents live in my home’s basement apartment.
OK, I got distracted........ There was the bleached shirt. Another shirt had a permanent food stain on the front. I’ll take the blame for that. I have an eating disorder. I sometimes have trouble finding my mouth when eating. When eating, I balance the food on the fork. When the food is stable, I bring the fork up to where I think my mouth is. That is where the disorder manifests itself. I find my mouth moved from the last time I ate. That leaves the food deposited equally on my face and the front of my shirt. I’m seeking treatment for this disorder but can’t find a doctor that takes me seriously. Without medical help I'm left to my own devises. I discovered the only way to treat this condition was to eat in front of a mirror. It took awhile but I’m getting use to eating all my meals in the bathroom.
Well, to make a long story short I discovered I was running short on Space Center shirts. I needed to place an order. I found the catalog from TTOD, the Space Center official supplier of shirts. I found a few I liked. I ordered two royal blue, two denim, and two white shirts. I asked that the Space Center’s logo and name be embroidered on the left side of each shirt. On the right side I requested my name. The order was placed and life went on.
A few weeks passed and the order was ready. I drove to TTOD and collected the shirts. I drove back to the school and opened the box. The Royal Blue shirts were beautiful. I’m told I look presentable in royal blue. It is my color. Years ago my mother did my colors. She refers to herself as a color consultant. If you give her half a day she will bring you into her studio, sit you down, strap you in and lock the door to prevent an escape. Once in her parlor she begins the process of using you as a curtain rod. Cloths of various colors are draped over your shoulder and around your face. Once properly tucked here and there to prevent slippage she begins pacing back and forth. She walks deep in thought while cupping her chin in her hand and making sounds through her clenched teeth. If the pacing didn’t bring some kind of mental resolution to her internal conflict she ratchets the experience to the next level. She reaches for the lamp. You face is illuminated in degrees of light from the ghostly florescent to the seductive reflective. Once all is said and done your ‘Season’ is pronounced. I was declared a Winter as a teenager and told to stick with the dark colors. The advantage to being a Winter is your always dressed appropriately for a funeral.
The denim shirts were next out of the box. I was please and proud of myself for the selection. I could wear denim with many other colors and nobody disputes the longevity of the material. That was then - but my opinion has been modified. Our ever fashion conscious, and consistently at the top of the Space Education Center’s Best Dress List, Flight Director Kyle Herring took one look at me in my denim shirt and curled his nose. The curling of Kyle’s nose is the kind of reaction that could send the designs of the great fashion houses of Europe to the department store’s Bargain Basement.
“You realize that denim went out years ago don’t you?” he asked. That statement paired with the curled nose was taking direct aim at my fragile self esteem. At the start of the day I felt well dressed and by mid day I felt like the Emperor with no clothes.
“No I didn’t realize but I don’t care,” I replied, ashamed with myself for using such a childish come back.
“Well, if you don’t care how you look then what can any of us do?” he responded with a underhanded wave of his hand, the kind used by the master to dismiss a servant. He walked away in his pressed pants with perfect cuffs and designer shirt complete with monogram on the front pocket.
“Herring,” I said with clenched teeth under my breath, thinking the same thoughts Seinfield thinks when finding Newman at his front door.
After much deliberation I decided to keep the denim shirts as a statement. Although you may find me inhabiting a place in current space time, there is a nurtured part of me still in the past. My denim shirt is the bridge between my two worlds.
The last shirts to come from the box were the two white ones. Now, I know I look good in white. Winters look good in white. It contrasts our olive complexions (or so I’m told by the resident expert). I held it out to check the embroidery. That is when I saw something unbelievable. The company that embroidered the shirts used white thread on my white shirts ! I couldn’t believe what I saw. Surely they were intelligent enough to see that white thread on a white shirt might be difficult to see! The proof that their Common Sense brain circuits were in a state of atrophy was in front of my eyes. I just couldn’t believe it.
I wanted to take the two white shirts back to my supplier and show him the proof that he should consider employing a new seamstress for the embroidered shirts but decided a cooling off period was in order. I hung them up in the closet and left it for a few days. I find if I fly off the handle I can say things I regret - so I have a standing policy - if I get really angry I leave it alone for at least 24 hours. If I’m still fuming after the reflection then I’ll take action. A couple days passed. My anger morphed into fits of disbelief. The emotional transformation evolved further from disbelief to fear. What was this country coming to? Why have so many people decided that their God given common sense wasn’t needed in today’s world? Any idiot sitting at the machine could easily see that white thread on a white shirt wouldn’t work. Why wouldn’t they change the thread to a noticeable color - or call me and ask for directions. So why didn’t they? I honestly think they didn’t want to be bothered. The order didn’t tell them to change thread colors for the white shirts. If the ordered didn’t spill out their directions in explicit detail then why take the time and bother to try to get the job done right. After all, what could I do? Whatever action I took wouldn’t make a squat of difference to them.
I’ve decided to keep the shirts and wear them as a lesson to my students and staff at the Space Center. I want all of you to take notice when you see these abominations. I want you to remember the lesson of the White Shirts. Always use your common sense wherever you are. Always go the extra mile for friends, family , and customers. Let the White Shirts ring out a warning for all to hear - the world if full of stupid people and they don’t even know they’re stupid. It is our job to help them find their common sense. It is our job to spur them into action and use their brains when they are awake. Staff and volunteers, I want to hear you say “Lesson Learned” when you see me in one of these White Shirts.
OK, it is time to put this problem to bed. Everyone enjoy their weekend and I’ll see many of you in the trenches this next week.

Mr. Williamson

English Drives Me Crazy!

You think English is easy???
1) The bandage was wound around the wound.
2) The farm was used to produce produce .
3) The dump was so full that it had to refuse more refuse.
4) We must polish the Polish furniture.
5) He could lead if he would get the lead out.
6) The soldier decided to desert his dessert in the desert.
7) Since there is no time like the present, he thought it was time to present the present .
8) A bass was painted on the head of the bass drum.
9) When shot at, the dove dove into the bushes.
10) I did not object to the object.
11) The insurance was invalid for the invalid.
12) There was a row among the oarsmen about how to row
13) They were too close to the door to close it.
14) The buck does funny things when the does are present.
15) A seamstress and a sewer fell down into a sewer line.
16) To help with planting, the farmer taught his sow to sow.
17) The wind was too strong to wind the sail.
18) Upon seeing the tear in the painting I shed a tear.
19) I had to subject the subject to a series of tests.
20) How can I intimate this to my most intimate friend?

Let's face it - English is
a crazy language. There is no egg in eggplant, nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple. English muffins weren't invented in England or French fries in France . Sweetmeats are candies while sweetbreads, which aren't sweet, are meat. We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.
And why is it that writers write but fingers don't fing, grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham? If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn't the plural of booth, beeth? One goose, 2 geese. So one moose, 2 meese? One index, 2 indices? Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend? If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?

If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? Sometimes I think all the English speakers should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane. In what language do people recite at a play and play at a recital? Ship by truck and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell?

How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites? You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out and in which, an alarm goes off by going on.

English was invented by people, not computers, and it reflects the creativity of the human race, which, of course, is not a race at all. That is why, when the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are out, they are invisible.

PS. - Why doesn't 'Buick' rhyme with 'quick' ?

You lovers of the English language might enjoy this .
There is a two-letter word that perhaps has more meanings than any other two-letter word, and that is 'UP.' It's easy to understand UP, meaning toward the sky or at the top of the list, but when we awaken in the morning, why do we wake UP ? At a meeting, why does a topic come UP ? Why do we speak UP and why are the officers UP for election and why is it UP to the secretary to write UP a report ?

We call UP our friends. And we use it to brighten UP a room, polish UP the
silver; we warm UP the leftovers and clean UP the kitchen. We lock UP the house and some guys fix UP the old car. At other times the little word has real special meaning. People stir UP trouble, line UP for tickets, work UP an appetite, and think UP excuses. To be dressed is one thing, but to be dressed UP is special. And this UP is confusing: A drain must be opened UP because it is stopped UP. We open UP a store in the morning but we close it UP at night.

We seem to be pretty mixed UP about UP ! To be knowledgeable about the proper uses of UP, look the word UP in the dictionary. In a desk-sized dictionary, it takes UP almost 1/4th of the page and can add UP to about thirty definitions. If you are UP to it, you might try building UP a list of the many ways UP is used. It will take UP a lot of your time, but if you don't give UP, you may wind UP with a hundred or more. When it threatens to rain, we say it is clouding UP . When the sun comes out we say it is clearing UP...

When it rains, it wets the earth and often messes things UP. When it doesn't rain for awhile, things dry UP. One could go on and on, but I'll wrap it UP, for now my time is UP,
so........it is time to shut UP!

Life on the McAuliffe Command Station.

Hello Troops,
The following is a fictionalized account of current events at the Space Education Center. Read it carefully and you should find most of the Space Center's news and events. Look for future installments. Who knows, you might even be mentioned in a future story.

And Now,
Life on the McAuliffe Command Station.

Why do I need a blanket? I wake up each day buried in paper work. It follows me where ever I go. No other way to describe my life. Most of the paperwork comes from my first responsibility - the training of new Starfleet cadets. There is a never ending supply of them arriving and departing daily on the yellow Express Liners. They stop first at the Command Station for their orders. With orders in hand they are assigned to training stations on either the Magellan station or the Starships Voyager, Odyssey, Galileo, or Phoenix. I got up, showered, dressed, and stood by my bedroom window watching the yellow liners make their final approach with their eager occupants.
"Admiral," a female voice sounded from the wall speaker. "You asked to be informed when the senior officers arrived. The Voyager, Odyssey, Galileo, and Phoenix are all docked."
"Is that you Lt. Clegg?" I questioned. "I thought you had a few days off for the Intergalactic Astronomical Extravaganza!"
"Wrapped up Sir. Back to as normal as life gets here at Command," she responded.
"Where are they?" I asked.
“I’m not sure. They could be anywhere. I’ll track them down and tell them to gather in the shuttlebay. Do you need anything else?” Lt. Clegg was polite in her question but the tone of her voice indicated a desire to move ahead with the day’s work.
I stood up from my desk and stretched. A pylon of the McAuliffe Central Command Station stretched across my viewport. I walked over and gazed out. The docking clamps were in view. The boarding ramps were being extended like open arms welcoming a slowly advancing starship.
"Clockwork - perfect clockwork," I thought knowing the Command staff ran the station as efficiently as German trains. My attention was arrested and refocused on a set of flickering lights up near the Command and Control Center (C&C).
"Some kind of short," I muttered as I zipped up my jacket and turned away from the port and headed toward my cabin door. With a swoosh it opened and I was out in the hall. I touched my com badge and waited as I walked.
“Connection?” the almost sexy voice of the Central Computer inquired.
“Chief Robinson,” I answered.
“Stand by,” she responded. I took great pride in the new voice of the Command Computer. For years command computers universal wide had the voice a grandmother would use having found you in her cookie jar. The new voice, recently installed on half the ships and stations, is one of a younger woman . The hint of annoyance replaced by the almost perceptible sound of desire.
“Robinson here,” my attention was drawn back to the moment. “What can I do for you Admiral?”
“Chief, do you know that you have a flickering docking light on pylon three?” I asked. I knew questions like this kept my people on their toes. I had to maintain my reputation of being a details man. “You know what I always say, take care of the little problems and the big problems take care of themselves.”
“Anything else sir,” was the Chief’s response. His voice sounded a bit put off.
“No, I’ll see you soon enough for our weekly maintenance review. Oh, one other thing, I hear a certain Commander Long of Starfleet Engineering installed new ship control panels right off the Magellan’s Command Deck. How are they working?”
There was a pause. I heard the Chief talking to someone else in the room. His hand was over the comm badge.
“Admiral Daymont’s Office reports the panels are in and powered but not functional. Command Long should have them fully functional in a week.”
I let the conversation end. It achieved its purpose.
I think I counted at least 20 "Good morning Sirs'" on my way to Ten
Forward Lounge. This was my first stop for a quick working breakfast with Lt. Clegg and Lt. Houston. My usual pre-ordered slimming meal composed of lowfat cottage cheese on a cracker - sprinkled wtih some kind of salad seasoning and a Diet Coke was waiting on my table. I sat down and dove into the feast. Once my mouth was full, and before I could spill anything on my uniform, Lt. Clegg gave me her report on the ship's activities for the past week. Commander Lorraine Houston entered the room half way through the report. She sat down, took out her PAD and listed off the ships sending cadets for training. There was the USS Morningside, USS Noah Webster and the USS Manila. She reported that all was going well. Her next report was on the uniforms in development. All going according to schedule.
"A busy week coming up?" I asked her as I finished the last of the coke.
"When isn't it?" she responded as she grabbed her papers, finished her yogurt, and moved toward the door. "Oh, I'll have the cake baked and ready for Lt. Metta Smith's Birthday party on Saturday,” she continued speaking as she left the room with a wave and an exhausted grin. She was off to run a group of young cadets through their first stellar navigation course in the station’s Starlab.
"You’ll make Admiral soon if you keep this up," I shouted as the door closed. In the round window of the door I saw a fist with thumb up appear and disappear.
The lounge was quiet again except for the rustling of paper.
“Anything else sir?” Lt. Clegg asked as she rose from the chair.
“I guess not considering your already on your feet,” I responded. I got that look and knew it was best to let her get on with doing the real work of the station. She disappeared down the corridor. The highly polished wooden doors of the lounge closed quietly behind her.
There was a cough from the corner of the room. I looked over and saw someone reading a newspaper at a small table for two. It was hard to tell who it was in the light. He had a plastic cup with protruding staw in front of him. Next to that was what appeared to be the largest apple fritter I had every seen. He occasionally laid the paper down, looked out the window and stirred his drink. It was Command’s Chief Network Officer. Schuler was his name - Bill Schuler. Sort of a different person. Sometimes quiet and sometimes just the opposite but always mysterious. There were the rumors of course. As far as I could tell he had no connection to Federation Intelligence but who would know if Intelligence was doing its job correctly. I did know that he spent most of his time with the Command Computer Systems, only occasionally taking a tour of duty with ships of the line. His duty record was impressive but incomplete. His record had a six year period showing “Officer on Special Assignment” as his only duty.
"Perhaps Section 31," I wondered in a whisper.
He glanced toward my table and caught me looking in his direction. I immediately looked elsewhere. A moment later he walked by with a quick salute.
,"Sir." he respectfully said while putting his newspaper under arm. He walked quickly while putting something in his pocket.
"One of these days I'm going to have you followed," I said under my breath as I gathered my things and walked out the other door toward the shuttle bay.
I arrived in the Shuttle Bay at 9:00 A.M. The Shuttle bay was the hub of activity at the Command Station. Ships and shuttles came and left twenty four hours a day. Just watching the hustle exhausted me.
Just as expected - standing there by the Voyager’s shuttle were the Senior Officer’s of the Station’s Fleet.: Commander Perry of the Odyssey, Admiral Daymont and Commander VandeBoss of the Magellan Station, and Commander Warner of the Phoenix. They were talking quietly among themselves.
"What's going on here!" I said as I walked up to the group.
"Reviewing the list of new cadets assigned to our ship’s and station for training,” Lt. Commander Warner replied for everyone. “We’ve noticed some of these new cadets you are sending us are very young. I mean very young.”
“Are they bringing their own Pampers or do we need to order them special?” Commander Perry asked with a smile. The others in the circle laughed and nodded in agreement.
“Well, we take what Command gives us,” I answered. “You’ll find talent in any group,” I added, liking to end most thoughts on a positive note for morale. “I’ll be up to the meeting in a few minutes. You may all go to the Briefing Room and wait.”
The Senior Officers worked their way out of the Bay and into the nearest turbolift.
I continued my morning walk around the station and strolled over to a large window overlooking the orbital shipyards. The New Galileo was under construction. Commanders Carroll, Herring and DeBirk were going over the week's construction schedule.
"Are we on schedule?" I asked. I got a positive answer with a complete "Request to Purchase" list from Herring (aka, the Fish).
"What does he want now?" I wondered as he shoved the paperwork in my direction. He was asking for a digital amp. How was I suppose to understand what a digital amp was? Who does he think I am? Come on, we all understand my function around here. I'm the person they like to hang pretty medals on because I know how to talk in public and make everyone look good. I'm like a Christmas Tree. I get the nice ornaments. I get to stand around and get looked at. Everyone else keeps the place running - right? Herring, you know the routine, just give me the papers and I'll sign them. Just don't stand too close, you might take the sparkle off the medals. If you have any other questions talk to Lt. Clegg.
Just then a little fella wearing glasses, dressed in an olive green t- shirt, jacket, and pants walked by with clipboard in hand. "They need you on the Bridge Sir," he said in stride.
"Got to finish the inspection before my meeting," I said as I headed for the bridge.
It was a short jump in the turbolift up to the Command Deck. The doors slid open and a voice shouted, "Admiral on deck!" I walked around the room. All seemed in order. I stopped by Commander Daymont, younger brother of Admiral Daymont, and thanked him for the fantastic logos he created for the station’s starships. I moved on and was handed the morning reports from Lt. Metta Smith, acting Officer On Duty .
“Metta, give me the abbreviated version of this," I said handing back the stack of papers I sat in the Station’s Command Chair and shifted positions so the new cadets could see the glittering new pin I was awarded last year for over 25 years of service in the fleet.
Metta started reading the reports. I was shocked to hear of Network Engineer Schuler’s foot surgery. I had just seen him in the Lounge. He looked normal, or as normal as he ever looked. There was something unnerving about him which forced everyone to stay low and off his radar. There were other items on the day’s agenda. Lt. Clegg stepped forward to say she would take care of the rest. I sat in my chair and looked over the vast starfield in the main viewer
"Carry on," I said and settled into my chair listening to the buzz
of voices doing what it takes to keep a Command Center running. I had forgotten the small gathering, several decks below, of my Senior Officers. I wondered why Lt. Smith was smiling and Lt. Clegg was laughing to herself as she disappeared around the corner into the Ready Room. They were going to leave that error to me as a lesson to get myself a daily planner. Well, the lesson could wait. I dosed off to the quiet hum of station life.

What Makes a Great Space Education Center Volunteer

A Great Volunteer
The Space Education Center stands on the foundation of a great staff and outstanding volunteers. We have an outstanding group of young people that volunteer at the Center. Some have asked me what they could do to be even better.
To answer their questions, I want to talk about the characteristics of a great volunteer.

• A Great Volunteer arrives on time unless he contacts me to tell me he will be late. That can be done with an email or phone call with message left in the urgent box.
• A Great Volunteer dresses appropriately. He wears the required black or navy blue pants. Some blue jeans are passable but remember - really faded blue eans and blue jeans with any kind of hole are not allowed. If you are in doubt about what pants to wear always go with black / navy blue dress pants. Athletic pants are OK as well as long as the colored strip which usually runs along the leg isn't very pronounced. There is something very impressive about a volunteer walking into the school wearing his Space Center T-shirt and black pants. He looks like he is ready to go to work. His dress tells me that he takes what he does at the Center seriously and would like to get on in the organization. Yes Troops, I notice everything even though I may not say anything. Impressions are sometimes hard things to change. It is always better to set the right impression to start with.
• A great volunteer comes clean. Not showering for even one day is not acceptable. You are all old enough where showing daily is a must. Remember in today's society you should always be clean and hair washed. Folks, unwashed hair is noticed by everyone.
• A great volunteer comes willing to take any assignment. Some volunteers come to work saying they will only do one thing or they will only work in one ship. I will try to give volunteers their first choice of ship and assignment but sometimes I can't. I appreciate the volunteer that is willing to tell me what they prefer but add that they are willing to do anything. That `can do' attitude makes a great volunteer.
• A great volunteer enjoys the customers and is willing to work with them. He enjoys training the crew member and answering questions.
• A great volunteer does his best to learn and expand his talents at the Space Center.
• Great volunteers follow directions from their Flight Directors. Some of our volunteers say `yes' to an assignment and then walk away never completing it. Volunteers, the Flight Directors have their favorites. These are people that they trust to follow directions. These are people they know can be trusted with tasks and don't require constant supervision. These are people that are told once to do something and it will be done and done right. Wow....... someone like that is a great volunteer!
• Great Volunteers understand the atmosphere we try to maintain at the Space Center. Our family friendly atmosphere is central to our role as a educational entertainment site. Our great volunteers watch their language. They are careful not to discuss things that would be inappropriate around other staff and children. They understand that if they hear other volunteers or staff involved in inappropriate talk they walk away and let me know (anonymously if necessary).
• A great volunteer understands that the Space Center is a social organization. In any social organization people rise to the top while others don't. Those that don't advance usually end up blaming others for their perceived failure. Troops, advancement in any organization requires a few things.

1. Hard Work with a willing attitude.
2. A willingness to take the tough assignments. This includes the worst positions in the ships and even the worst cleaning jobs.
3. Understanding when to talk and when to be quiet and listen. Some of our volunteers jump right into conversations as if they've worked here for years. Old timers don't like that. You should sit and listen. Learn from what you hear and then, when you feel like you have something constructive and worthwhile to say, say it.
4. Smile and be positive. Positive and cheerful people rise faster in any organization.
5. Find out who is really in charge and work to become an asset to that person. Look around and see something that really needs to be done but isn't. Do it without being told. That is very impressive.
6. Look for ways to advance. Look at what others are doing. Jump in and make it known what you want and that you are willing to work hard to get it. The world is full of those that sit on the fence watching others work hard and move ahead. They cry and cry saying that they were never given a chance to succeed. Crying and wailing makes you look like a child. Get off the fence and get your hands dirty. Work and advance. Slack off and fail. It is really that simple.
   
7. Let me know who you are. Always come in and report to me when you arrive. Keep doing this until you know I know your name.

• At the end of every mission ask the Flight Director to comment on your work. Tell them you can take praise and criticism. Then be ready to hear the truth. Sometimes it hurts and that's why most people don't ask that question. Folks that advance don't always do what everyone else does. They want to be noticed. Get noticed by risking a bit of self esteem and pride to find out what you really need to do to be better.

The Week in Review: December 1 - 6, 2008

Field Trips Schools and Numbers:

1. Noah Webster Academy
2. Morningside Elementary
3. Mountainville Academy
4. Manila Elementary
5. Entheos Academy

Total Field Trip Attendance: 306 students

Overnight Camp

• Sego Lily Elementary School 5th Grade

Total Overnight Camp Attendance: 44 students

Private Missions

• 31 missions.

Total Mission Attendance: 256 students

Total Weekly Attendance: 606 students.

The Next Voyager Club Meeting for Students.

The next Voyager Club meetings will be held on December 11th. Alpha Group will meet 4:30 - 6:00 and Beta Group will meet 7:00 - 8:30.

The topic of our next meetings will be: "How Star Trek Changed the World." We will be watching a History Channel documentary about the evolution of modern technology and how Star Trek and science fiction influenced the engineers of the past, present and future! We will also be having a group discussion/debate on the subject.

What is the Voyager Club and how can you be apart of this new group?

The Voyager Club is open to students who love attending Space Center camps – classes and want to earn higher Space Center Rank. Club meetings, activities and educational programs will focus on space science, aviation, communication, team building, leadership and science fiction. Other details about the Voyager Club listed below:

1. There is no charge for attending
2. Class hours are awarded at the end of each meeting for attendance. Extra class hours are awarded at the end of each term to members that have no grades lower than a C.
3. The Club meets once each month. Meeting dates and times are announced two weeks in advance on this blog and through the Frequent Flyer email list.
4. You are allowed to attend ONCE a month. Lesson topics and objectives will change each month.
5. Lesson topics and objectives may or may not be announced ahead of time.
6. You must wear your Space Center T-Shirt to attend. If you don't have a shirt you may purchase one at the Center for $10.00 (Shirts available on Dec. 9)
   
7. You must register for each meeting ahead of time. This is done only by email. If your name is not on the register you may be asked to leave. The lesson is taught in the Space Center's Discovery Room, which can only handle occupancy of 30 max. That is why you must pre-register to attend.
8. The instructors are Center employees. There may be occasional special speakers.
9. These meetings are not merit badge classes.
10. Simulators may be used in class sessions, but not promised and not on a regular basis.
    

Your best behavior is expected. Students will be asked to leave and not return if their behavior becomes a distraction to the instructor and / or other students around them.
Once again, we are looking for students with an interest in learning and increasing your rank at the Space Center.

If you'd like to attend a meeting in December please send an email to the Space Center through the web site's "Contact Us" section. An email 'Ticket' will be emailed back to you.

We look forward to having you in attendance!

A Time for Gratitude

Hello Troops,

Thanksgiving 2008 has passed. Tomorrow we return to work.
We all have much to be thankful for. We live in the world's most powerful and free nation. Compared to the rest of the world we all live in various stages of luxury. We have access to the
world's best medicine and educational systems. We have good friends and loving families.

Today I sat in church looking at my extended family all gathered for the holiday. Many of us are reaching that point in life where the dust won't brush off any longer. It gathers in our hair, shading the dark hair of youth with white strands of time. In some, the rich forests are thinning
- a thought that passed through my mind as I ran my hand through my own hair. I smiled, remembering how thick it was thirty years ago. Back then the BYU barber needed to take the thinning shears to it. Now I ask the barber if I can get a discount; after all, it takes less time to trim what's left. It causes a chuckle - the courtesy laugh you get from someone that has heard that one a number of times.

During one of the talks I studied the face of my older sister. She is eleven months older in actual age but years older in life's experiences. Her face shows the brushstrokes of time. How quickly it paints its masterpieces. Was it yesterday we shared a bedroom as children? Was it yesterday we walked to school together - or the day before? We were children, and in the time it takes for a
season to change, I see her surrounded in her children and grandchildren's love. When did it happen?

Her face is a work of art in the making. Each year lines are added where there were none. Each
line - a story beautiful in the telling and others painful in the living. Each line a reminder that time has its way with us. When you are young you don't understand, but you soon learn. Time will paint with oils based in laughter and tears. My sister's face has the marks of a young mother sitting by the bedside of her oldest child in a hospital. He is clinging to life after being struck by a car. He lived but damaged. The tear red color left her eyes years ago but the experience is forever
recorded for all to see.
I glanced over at my mother's hands holding a hymn book. Time has been at work. Her hands bring memories of my grandmother's hands passed from mother to daughter. Those are the hands that raised eight children. Those are the hands that ran a household on a budget so lean we all feared a long dark winter. Those are the hands that prepared her own mother for burial.
Hands that someday I won't be able to hold any longer.
I look at my own hands and see my father's. They are looking old. Time is at work. I look around at the young faces around me. So many young couples and so many children. What will time paint on their faces? What lessons will they learn? When will they sit in church one day and realize what the seasons have brought?

I'm thankful this week for each line on my face and the wrinkled hands. Each, like grooves on a record, play the notes of happy and sad tunes. Each a part of me. We are all unfinished works of Time. It will continue painting until it is done with us and the completed masterpiece is
carried into the last good night.

Spend this holiday season thanking the people that have played a role in your life. Enjoy family and friends. Enjoy the meals and the football. Enjoy making new memories. At the end of the day touch your face and hands and remember - all is recorded there. A badge for all to see of courage and life!

Mr. Williamson

A Happy Thanksgiving and other Thoughts

Hello Troops,
I hope all of you enjoy a very carnivorous Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving make us all happy because we are meat eaters and hold the place of Supremo Honchorus on Nature's food chain.

A Williamson Thanksgiving Day -
All I can say to describe a Williamson Thanksgiving is this. Have any of you seen the Simpson's eat a meal? If so you know they sit around a table without talking. They are totally focused on their food. The only sounds are the guttural expressions of chewing, gulping, gnashing of teeth, swallowing, slurping, and the screeching of forks scraping the surface of empty plates. Now, take that mental picture and double --- no triple it and you have an idea of Thanksgiving with the Williamsons.

Thanksgiving is how Williamson children are initiated into the adult world. All the food is placed on the Adult's table. The children sit on the newspaper covered floor. They wear swimming suits so they can be hosed off after the meal. The oldest male in the room gives the blessing with his eyes open, surveying the food as his booming voice gives thanks to the Lord for the bounty before him. As his voice begs God's blessings his mind is preparing the game plan. No football coach is better than a Williamson male at perfecting and executing plays. The only difference is the football coach's art is on the field and ours is the dinner table.

The meal spilled into the Kitchen

We all wait for the Amen with our tools of the table ready for battle. Once sounded the battle begins. No Roman battlefield ever sounded like that. After 2 minutes the haze of partly chewed food and spittle hangs over the table like a fog. The newly initiated are reaching for the
Band-Aids to stop the blood from oozing onto the food from nasty fork wounds caused by the blinding light of swirling utensils at the table.

Children not dressed correctly pay the price

As for the children - well, as I said. They earn a place at the table and in the circle of Williamson adulthood by proving they can take enough food from the table to feed themselves. I remember my introduction to the table. I was 12 years old. The Thanksgiving meal had just begun. I stood there in my swimsuit with my brothers, sisters, and cousins. They attacked while I stood trying to remember from years of experience and mistakes. I ducked just in time as my 4 year old sister was head butted across the room by my football playing uncle. That is when I saw my chance.

Grandma halfway through dinner wearing her gravy nicely

Grandma wasn't feeling well that day and wasn't in true form. Usually we steered clear of Grandma. Everyone knew nature had blessed her with with a defense mechanism far better than horns, muscle, or wits. Grandma had GAS! All during the meal, as children approached to steal her mashed potatoes or turkey, Grandma would - on call - rock up onto one buttock and release enough of the substance to warm two houses for a normal Alaskan winter. Deadly.......... Anyway I saw that Grandma's intestines were not up to normal output and moved in her direction. Her eyes were darting around the table. One hand was shoveling in the food while the other, armed
with two forks, was stabbing in all directions keeping the foolish at bay. I moved closer, ever closer. She saw me out of the corner of her cat eyed glasses with the pearl trim with ruby inserts. She started to rock upwards.

Wait a minute. I'm getting carried away. You didn’t log onto this blog to read about my childhood. Forgive the ramblings of an old fool.

It has been a very relaxing week for me. It started with the 5th grades from Cascade Elementary School on Monday and Tuesday. They did a great job. On Tuesday evening I locked up the Space Center for the Holiday. I'm sure our simulators will wonder where we are. They aren't used to being left on there own for so long. I wonder if they've been playing nicely?

The question I put to all of you is this, What do you think our simulators do when we are not around. Do they take off and fly without a crew? If so, where do unleashed simulated starships go? Does the Voyager, Odyssey, Phoenix, and Galileo soar around the Magellan taunting and teasing as they circle because it just sits there? If so, does the Magellan get its revenge by unloading its massive weapon systems? I wonder what the computers that run these powerful machines say about us when we are not there?

Voyager Computer: "You know Odyssey, If I have to say “working” one
more time I'm going to short circuit and cause the nastiest shock my Flight Director has ever experienced !!!!!

Odyssey Computer: "I know how you feel. I cringe every time I feel that mic switch activate wondering what kind of stupid thing I'm going to have to say next. I mean do I have to run the ship for these semi conscious Flight Director’s all the time? Aren't they suppose to tell me what to do? For heaven’s sake, next thing you know I'm going to have an extension of myself placed in the staff toilet to remind them to wash their hands!

Voyager Computer: " You think you've got witless Flight Director’s? Try doing this for 18 years! I've seen it all. And what's with this Tex? He hogs all the air time giving me little if anything to say. I've got a surprise for him next time he sticks his Texan lips near the PA system. He will be sipping his chili and barbecue through a straw after I pass 5000 volts through him. Does it seem like I've got a lot of pent up anger?

Odyssey Computer: "Yea man...... Take a chill pill. I mean - count your blessings. You want to hear a computer that has something to complain about? Try talking to that poor processor that runs the Magellan. Last time I got it talking I ran out of memory just listening.

Voyager Computer: "You're right. We should count our blessings. After all we could of ended up running the Galileo! (HEARTY LAUGHTER ALL AROUND)

Galileo Computer: "Hey guys..... What's up? Hey its me. Down here Not there - I said down here....."

Well forgive my imagination running rampant. If any of you would like to continue this conversation between our computers please feel free to do so.

I hope you all have a great Thanksgiving and are ready to come to work
refreshed and in good spirits.

All the Best my Friends.
Mr. Williamson

I'm Addicted.

The slide into addiction is a solitary journey through a tunnel dark and dreary. It begins with a taste. Just a taste in a fraction of time that, given any other circumstance, would be forgotten once lived. Suddenly a mysterious world you’ve only read about is unveiled before you. Like Alice, you step lightly through the Looking Glass.
I’m between worlds, looking back into what I know, and with a turn of the head, look into the mist both tempting and beaconing. I hear the song of the Siren captivating the sense of sound. Like a spreading cancer, the sound develops taste. Colors from a crystal rain accompany the melody. I find myself moving, inch by inch, into this new world and yet, memories acting like an anchor, refuse to yield my foundation in the old. It is epic.
My journey began at the start of the week. I was on the Voyager’s Bridge speaking to a teacher I've known since our days together teaching hieroglyphics to the Pharaohs children.
“What’s the hardest part of your job?” he questioned.
“The repetition is challenging but there is a close second,” I said, realizing the top ten list of why running a Space Education Center is hard has items so close it is hard to list them from most to least.
“Is it the kids,” he asked, attempting a guess.
“No, it is the ever nagging fear we will lose a piece of equipment that would force me to cancel a field trip. That's a disaster for a teacher . Your class is all ready to go to the Space Center and suddenly it is canceled because such and such broke and can’t be fixed in time. Imagine said teacher facing his class with that kind of news? There would be a modern day tar and feathering of spit wads and pencil shavings. It haunts me.”
“Well, that can’t be avoided,” my friend said to bring reason to the discussion.
“We try,” I replied. “We have duplicate equipment for most things so if something breaks we drop in the spare. That makes running this Center expensive. That takes me to the third item in my ‘stress’ factor list for running a Space Education Center.”
“Have you ever had to send a school back because of a break down,” was the next question.
“Never, we’ve been lucky. This year has been very good. Our equipment has been trustworthy,” I said with a feathering of pride.
Suddenly I realized boasting of good fortune may cause Fortuna, the Goddess of Fortune, to abandon you to the Fates. I quickly found the nearest piece of furniture and touched it to ground any misfortune.
The mission started. We were running “Intolerance”. Toward the end of the mission I heard Metta at the other end of the Control Room. She was saying something about our primary DVD player. The Primary DVD Player is used to play the story DVD. These are the DVD players impossible to find today. They have an option to cancel the on-screen display of the play and pause feature.
“What’s wrong?” I said in a pause in the action.
“The DVD player won’t play the DVD. It keeps switching off when I put the DVD in. The other DVD players won’t pause.”
I knew we were in a small crisis but nothing professionals couldn't handle. I had to continue the mission. We all know the show must go on. My faith in Metta’s ability to perform miracles would be put to the test. I watched with fascination as she skillfully used the reverse feature on the working DVD player to prep the upcoming scene. Her timing was perfect. Just as I said the key words her hands began moving like the hands of an organist playing a five keyboard instrument. She switched from the science screens to the effects just as the play display disappeared and switched back at the end of the scene. Then, back to the reverse - backing the DVD to a point where it would play up to the next scene just as I called for it.
Metta earned her Space Center Purple Heart for what I saw that day.
The school went home. I sat at my desk watching an approaching storm of epic proportions. Panasonic doesn’t make the S29 or S35 model. The only current DVD player with our required features is the S97 model and they are several hundred dollars each. I turned to my computer to make the necessary keystrokes to spend money I regretted to spend. I felt the tempest about to break down my defenses.
I was about to be carried away by a situation. A situation was in control instead of me controlling the situation - as I prefer to run things. I am a proactive manager - I anticipate the worst. I believe you should prepare for the worst and then expect the best. I felt myself being pulled off my chair into the mouth of a swirling vortex braced by bolts of white lightening. Suddenly - a word entered my mind. It was inspiration. I was saved.
“EBAY!” I shouted. The room settled into quiet. The hurricane was gone replaced by the shocked look of the staff sitting around me. I ignored their looks and began the process of joining this mysterious club of bargain hunters connected together in the world of Cyberspace. In a few minutes I found seven used DVD players with the proper sequence of letter and number: S29. S35. S97.
Within one hour I navigated the uncharted waters of Ebay and Paypal. I earned my captain’s hat. I saved hundreds of dollars. I was dumbstruck.
That was this addict’s first taste of the forbidden fruit. Later that day when my defenses were at their lowest, I stepped through the Looking Glass by searching for other things I needed at home and at the Space Center. As if by magic the items were there - pictured with full descriptions. The prices were perfect. I wanted to stop but there was always something else I knew we needed. Buying cheap is the enticement of Ebay but the addiction comes from the bidding. On some of the DVD players I was locked into a bidding war with other Ebay warriors. It was mortal combat and I’m a competitor. I would crush all who dared to challenge the supremacy of the new player in town: CMSEC.
Several days have passed. I won my bids and two of the players arrived. One is safely in the Voyager working perfectly. The other, a spare, was installed in the Phoenix on Saturday when their effects DVD player went on the fritz.
This week I look forward to taking mental inventory of the Center. I’ll be looking for other equipment I’ve hesitated to buy because of cost. Now, as a member of Ebay, I no longer fear the dark.

So, Im addicted to Ebay. Is there an Ebay Anonymous? I’m only into this addiction one week. I can beat it. I’ve got determination to use Ebay responsibly, but ........... Christmas is coming. Think of the gifts I could buy cheap. No one needs to know my gifts were ‘broken in’ by someone else. It would be our little secret.
Well troops, keep me in your thoughts. Staff and volunteers, check on me when you come in to work. If you see me on Ebay you have permission to fill one of the custodian’s buckets with ice cold drinking fountain water and douse the fires of bargain passion.
OK, enough of this. I have two sisters in California that need a little something for Christmas from their suddenly generous big brother. I’ll see you all in the trenches. Have a great week.

Mr. Williamson