Comet Elenin. Our Doomsday Comet?

Hello Troops,

I've had my fair share of emails from concerned readers and others asking me about the newly discovered Comet Elenin. The emails range from the curious to the down right silly. Apparently there is an Internet wide rumor that Elenin will either hit the Earth or cause mass devastation as the Earth passes through its tail and is hit by the remnants.

It is my opinion that these rumors originate from the same pale dark dank basement dwellers who originally penned the last astronomical doomsday rumor of Mars coming so close to the Earth that it will be the size of the Moon in our night sky.

Apparently the arrival of Elenin will ignite the 2012 Doomsday scenario. It will reach the inner solar system and impact Earth with its debris. Shortly thereafter, all who survive will turn to cannibalism in an effort to remain alive in a darkened soot encrusted world.

Let me share the following from a web site who's author has contacts in very high places (in the Delirium) who are in the know, but can't reveal their names because then everyone would know the truth.

Comet Elenin could be the Comet that is mentioned in the Nostradamus quatrains, and it will supposedly shed a quarter of a mile diameter shard that will then impact our planet in the area of the Azores. If this impact occur, it will then cripple much of Europe and the east coast of North America. The entire sequence was originally supposed to begin between August or October of 1999, when the comet is seen by way of an eclipse. But calendars being what they are and our inexact keep of time, the focus is now on Elenin as that mortal messenger. Content of it all is , that if a quarter of a mile (one stadias) comet fragment striking along the mid Atlantic ridge around the Azores it would cause all kinds of problems, including tsunamis, earthquakes, floods and retransmitting pieces of our own planet.

Let me reassure you that everything you may have read or heard about Elenin is false. You may continue to live your life normally. You may continue to love your children for who they are and not the meal they may supply when the Cheerios run out. Do not believe everything you read online. In fact, don't believe 1/10 of what you read online. The world is full of charlatans who make their living feeding off those who prefer fiction to fact in most aspects of their lives.

So are you ready for the truth. Click on this link and take a moment to educate yourself.

http://www.space.com/11617-comet-elenin-wimpy-solar-system.html

Then, when your friend or coworker pulls you aside and tells you they have secret information about impending doom about to rain down upon us from the sky, you'll have the sense to say,

"I know. I know. I know people who know people that know the truth. My family and I are on the short list for the underground shelters. Listen, I like you. I'll tell you what. I can get you on the list but to do it I'll need to grease the palms of several government officials. Bring your life's savings tomorrow. Remember, its your family and if you love them you'll pay anything for their safety. Keep this hush hush now. We can't save everyone."

Have a Great Evening Troops,

Mr. W

The Fugitive. Voyager's New Summer Story 2011

Perhaps the most dangerous man in the known galaxy has escaped from a high security Telosian prison. Secured tightly in his mind is information and knowledge that could cause death to billions of intelligent life forms and the collapse of our Earth Federation.

Standing between him and the darkness of oblivion lies the crew of the USS Voyager.
Are you up to the challenge? Do you hear destiny calling?

Join us. Sign up today for one of the Space Center's Summer Camps of 2011. The EdVentures Await!

Oh the Humanity!

Hello Troops,
We are out of night light bulbs again. You'd think the world was coming to an end.

"Mr. Williamson, do we have any bulbs for the red rotating lights," a supervisor asked me as I sat at my desk a few minutes ago.

"Nope we're out," I answered. His face contorted. The look seemed panicked yet resigned to fate. Probably the same look the last Roman Emperor had on his face when he heard the sounds of the German barbarians ransacking Rome under his balcony window.

"I buy those bulbs all the time, what's happening to them?" I reminded more than questioned him.

"The staff leave them on after their landing parties. It's all their fault they keep burning out. Gosh! Geez! Darn It." Other words fought to find release but he held them at bay with tightened lips.

I took pen and pop up note in hand and wrote a note to myself reminding me to buy every night light bulb in the Lindon Walmart when I pick up donuts in the morning.

"I'll buy more in the morning."

"The morning?"

"Its that time of day when that bright shiny object in the sky rises above the mountains."

"What are we suppose to do about tonight?" His face turned crimson. "I have instructions to return with bulbs in hand. If I go back without them there is no telling what they'll do to me."

I took pen and pop up note in hand and wrote a note,

"Please excusing him from the beating he surely deserves for returning empty handed, but we don't have bulbs. I'll get them in the morning. P.S. leave his fingernails attached to his fingers. That punishment is leaving stains the custodian can't get out of the carpet."

He took the note and slithered away.

Moments later my attention was drawn to the fact that our Magic Medicine (M&M's) was in short supply.

"Where are the M&M's?" a young volunteers wearing one of our doctor's smocks asked while standing rather disappointingly over the empty desk drawer where the Space Center's Magic Medicine was kept.

"We're out." I answered.

"Out?" he replied.

"Out." I answered again.

"Is there another bag somewhere?"

"We're out."

"Totally out?"

"Completely and totally out."

"Maybe there are some in the candy cabinet?"

My patience evaporated with each question. Something had to be said.

"OK, you've got me. I keep a secret stash of M&M's that I never share with anybody in a secret locker at the end of the first grade hallway. There, my secret is out. You forced it out of me. I tell you what, If you can find the locker you can keep the entire bag. Go for it."
He scampered off leaving me alone with my music and my thoughts.

And so here we are in the throws of another overnight camp. It's a whirlwind around my desk. The buzz of children neck deep in over written melodrama permeates the air with sight and sound.

How has your Friday been?

Mr. W.

Fifty Years Ago: Freedom 7 Launches First American in Space!

Freedom 7 lifts off of Pad 5.

Congratulations, America, you've had astronauts in space for fifty years!

By Mark Daymont
Space Center Educator

On May 5, 1961, astronaut Alan Shepard donned his spacesuit for a second attempt at launching into a suborbital flight over the Atlantic Ocean. Once placed in his spacecraft, there was another long hold while NASA worked to clear the flight for blast off. The long wait was excruciating for a man who'd had perhaps too many cups of coffee before putting on the suit. After all, the flight was only supposed to last 15 minutes. Finally the GO was given, the countdown resumed, and the rocket blasted off. Many thousands of onlookers watched from the roads around Cape Canaveral, and Americans and people around the world watched on television. The highest point of the launch reached an altitude of 116 miles. During the flight, Shepard was able to test the attitude controls and make observations of Earth. Coming back through re-entry, Shepard had to endure over 11 G's of force as the capsule plunged to Earth. The parachutes deployed, and the craft landed in the ocean near the Bahamas islands. The US Navy was ready to pick up Shepard and the capsule. Later inspection showed the craft is in remarkably good shape and actually could have been used again. Today, the capsule is on display at the Naval Academy. Shepard later was awarded the Distinguished Cross by President John F. Kennedy at the White House.

Suit preparation.

Entering the Cleanroom.

Preparing to board.

View of Shepard in the capsule.

Dr. Von Braun (left) and Gordon Cooper (CAPCOM) in the launch blockhouse at LC-5.

As Capsule Communicator, Cooper had direct communications link to Shepard.

Blast Off! Freedom 7 is on its way!

Shepard during the flight.

View from the capsule.

Carrier USS Lake Champlain awaiting splashdown.

SHepard hoisted aboard the rescue helicopter. Capsule below.

2nd Helicopter recovers the capsule.

Shepard on deck of the carrier.

During the quick voyage back to the Cape.

Huntsville, Alabama celebrates. The rockets were built in Huntsville.

White House celebration. Shepard receives the Distinguished Cross from President Kennedy.

50 YA: Preparing for Freedom 7

Redstone rocket with Mercury capsule at pad 6.

Fifty years ago, space enthusiasts across America were on pins and needles waiting for the first US astronaut to fly into space. We had been stunned by the record-setting firsts made by the Soviet space program, and our reputation as a technological leader was in jeopardy. Then on April 12, 1961 the Soviets shocked the world with the launch of the first human in space, Yuri Gagarin. Meanwhile, NASA stumbled with problems in the control systems and finalizing safety equipment.

Finally it was time.

Evolution of the man-rated Redstone.

NASA prepared for the launch of it's first manned flight. The Redstone rocket at Launch Complex 5 was prepared with Mercury spacecraft #7 perched on top. The Redstone would not have enough thrust to propel the capsule into orbit around the Earth. We would need the Atlas rocket for that, but it was not ready. This flight was therefore planned as a sub-orbital mission, to send a man into space, and recover the spacecraft and astronaut in the Atlantic Ocean. US Naval vessels spread out into the downrange recovery area, awaiting the launch.

But who would ride the first rocket?

Mr. Daymont,
Space Center Educator

My Monday. How was Yours?

Hello Troops,
I waited all day for the 3:00 P.M. Phoenix private mission. I was excited to see the first use of the newly installed 'transporter' door. The time was at hand. The group arrived and paid. Nate met them in the lobby, bathroomed them, and brought them in for loading.

"Step right into the transporter," he said as he opened the side door, completely bypassing the new transporter. He shut the door and came around the closet to open the sliding door to let them into the bridge.

I was glad Jon and Kyle were not at hand to see what I saw. They worked from 5:00 P.M. Saturday to 3:00 A.M. Sunday installing the dark room door. How was their dedication rewarded? Nate bypassed the new transporter and opted for the traditional way of loading a Phoenix crew. Nate chicken out :)

"Nate why didn't you load through the transporter?" I asked. He stopped and turned to face me. He looked confused, as if I'd asked him to solve a complex calculus equation.

He held his forefinger to his chin as if to prepare me for something profound. "I didn't really know how?" he said.

Now don't get me wrong, Nate is a top notch volunteer and future flight director so if he is struggling with the complexities of a turning door then perhaps there are others out there in his situation.

I'll ponder yesterday's revelation and take decisive action. Expect a three week course in the proper use of a dark room transporter door. The course will include everything from the proper loading technique, the proper spinning technique complete with instructions on how to avoid the over use of the wrist muscles - which could lead to carpel tunnel syndrome. The highlight of the course will be a lesson on making believable energizing sound effects while transporting people into a ship using nothing more than your vocal chords and a pocket wazoo.

And Now a Thought from the Imaginarium's Help Desk.

Do you ever feel frustrated with family, friends, and school. Remember, we have people on hand to take your calls right after school for 20 minutes a day. Our people have been trained in saying "That's life, so get over it" in many different soothing vocal tones. My favorite is Ocean Breeze. It's spoken with fluctuating winded words punctuated with minor breath intakes mimicking the sound of sea gulls.


And how about this pick me up.....
Have several of these cards printed and staple them to your next math assignment. Next to the card write "I'm a fish out of water. What did you expect, an A? But you should watch me text. Everyone says I'm a genius with my thumbs and creative spelling"

And finally, from the Imaginarium's "Life's Precious Moments" Department


Isn't it amazing how quickly life takes you from the "You're so precious" stage to
"Where's my smokes?
"Did I leave them at home?"
"Are they in your purse?"
"I need my smokes."
"I've got to pee and here comes the bus."

And Finally, News

Hello Troops,
Late last night while you slept, Jon Parker and Kyle Jones installed the Phoenix's new 'Transporter'. I stopped at the Center this morning to take a look. I don't know when they finished but they did a great job.

Some of you may be confused by the term 'transporter'. Transporters at the Space Center are those turning black doors you go through to enter one of the simulators. You find them in the Voyager and Odyssey. The Magellan doesn't need one because of their awesome winding hallway. The Galileo has its ramp.

A couple weeks ago I found the Phoenix's new transporter sitting in a state of disrepair on a neighbor's lawn. Its not your typical yard sale item so it caught my eye. I bought it and had Jon and Kyle bring it to the school. Kyle spent a day with it, repairing, cleaning and painting. Finding the time to install the door was the trick. The Center is always busy. The only available time was Saturday evening after the overnight camp and private missions. Kyle and Jon agreed to stay behind and work nonstop until the installation was finished. Great job guys! And once again may I remind you of the awesome people that work and volunteer at the Space Center. It's like the place is a magnet which attracts hard working, imaginative people. I'm privileged to rub shoulders with them and all the better for it.

We are always working on improvements in the Center's five simulators so be sure to sign up for one of our summer camps if you haven't done so. And don't forget the new missions starting June 1. It will be a fun and exciting summer at Space Camp!

Wait, I'm getting a telepathic message from many of you out there (who needs Twitter when you've got telepathy?) wanting me to post a few items from the Imaginarium. Get your thinking caps on and hold tightly. Here is the latest from the Land of Never Ending Dreams...

From the Imaginarium's School of Hard Knocks, A Thought for the Day.







Ever need a bit of privacy on a crowded street or school hallway to make an important call? The CellPhone Box is the answer! It easily folds flat and is always accessible in case of a Privacy Emergency (like when you get a call from your mom checking up to see if you're really at your friend's house studying but you're actually at the mall hanging out). It comes with its own large backpack carrying case guaranteed to be awkward in crowds.


How do you confuse your typically brainless junior high school student? Try this and watch the pileup at the cafeteria door.


Do you see the Cat? How about the mouse? How about the Saturn V Rocket? How about Mr. Williamson in a Superman suit? Look closely........


The real test of your character is what you do when there is no one watching.

Ever have one of those days when you feel you're on the very edge and the slightest wind will carry you over into oblivion?

Oh, and just in case you're wondering, I know for a fact and without any question that this is something I will never do in this life or the life to come..... period. I was one of those people in the control group when Murphy's Law was field tested.

Just looking at this sends my blood pressure soaring?
Be honest, are you one of those people who will go for it anyway and ends up french kissing the fountain? Double gross.


Yes, you're in a world of trouble if you ever wake up and see them at the foot of your bed. I advise you to pinch yourself to see if you're dreaming. If it is a dream, then I suggest you're spending too much time at the Space Center. If it isn't a dream, then tell them you don't know where the droids are.


Have a Great Day Troops,
Mr. W.

Stories from the Front Lines

Hello Troops,
This post was received yesterday, sent by carrier pigeon from Fresno, California. Bracken Funk spent his University Spring Break with us in the trenches on the front lines. I'm happy to report that his skills are as sharp today as they when he left for civilian life. Mind you, the tinned sardines, tack bread, and beans kept his fighting close to the latrine.

Bracken was kind enough to write this post to share a few of his observations.

Thanks Bracken!
Mr. W.

My Time on the Front Lines
By
Bracken Funk, Field Commander.
Received on the South Perch, Carrier Pigeon Landing Facility.

I just thought I’d share a few quick funnies from my experience back home this past week. I absolutely loved being home for the week, and tried my best to take as many missions as my flight director conditioning would allow. It’s like playing basketball. You have to stay in condition in order to be successful. I hadn’t flown in a while, and after flying 3 missions in one day, I was pooped. It took me a bit to get my second wind so I could fly like a real boy.

During one of the after school field trips, I was flying the Voyager, and whilst being upon the bridge, I was collecting the mp3 players for the Right Wing officers, who both looked at me with a puppy-dog face, and the girl said in a sweet voice, “Who is that man that is speaking, is that you?”

I paused a moment, shocked by the question, “No, his name is Tex, he’s supposedly the best engineer in all of Starfleet,” I answered as officially as I could.

“Do you know him?”

I was trying to anticipate where she was going. I suppose that is the most important part of our job as space center employees. We are master liars... no, story tellers. In order to weave a story together in a short amount of time, we attempt to have the story written before the question was asked. I could not get ahead of this girl, I didn’t know where she was going.

“Yes, I have worked with him a few times,” I gave her a reassuring nod. I was sure this was the end of the conversation.

“Could you tell him that he has the most calming voice I’ve ever heard?”

Now... Now I was flabbergasted. I had never heard such a thing in all my years of volunteer work, work and any other form of time I’d put in at the Center.

“Sir,” she said again, “I was very, very nervous coming in here today. I was scared about my job, I was scared I would kill my crew, I was scared that aliens would get me- but now, because of his voice, I am calm, and ready for anything,” she smiled, and I was just about to tell her that I would do it, when the boy next to her chimed in.

“I agree. His voice is just... relaxing and calming. I have never felt more sure of myself sitting in front of computer,” he beamed like he was a professional hacker, and the voice he’d heard telling him how to run the right wing had given him new light.

“I will,” I said, “I will make sure that Tex knows that you guys are at ease because of his voice.

I promise that Mr. Williamson will never let anyone live that down.

The next flight, I was assigned to fly the Phoenix. I must add that the crew that I had in the Phoenix for that flight was my favorite crew ever. I had so much fun with that group. If they should by chance read this- THEY MUST COME BACK and fly with me again. I don’t know if I can live without them :P

The girl at Operations was your typical little girl. Unicorns and rainbows, dresses and tea, princesses and Disney. She made me laugh on several occasions. We were in Perikoi, right after they’d been hit with the torpedo from the surface. They shook around with the impact of the torpedo a little bit (they were incredible actors too, by the way). They all took care of any immediate threat, and then Operations raised her hand, and said “Captain,”. I knew I hadn’t sent a message, and I knew that there was nothing going on at her station. I looked at the camera, and waited for it. I was excited. But what came out of her mouth next had me on the floor in stitches.

“Yes?” The captain responded.

“Does my hair look alright?”

There were four of us in the control room. We all laughed for a minute. After taking a torpedo, getting yelled at by Gods, and having Perikoi threatened- she knew where her priorities lied.. With her hair

A Space Center Scare

Hello Troops,

Bronson wrote the following poem and gave permission for me to share it with you.
Bronson is one of our junior high volunteers.

Thanks Bronson!
Mr. W.

A Space Center Scare!

Children scream in absolute terror,

All because of a Space Center Scare!
Shadows, Borg, and Drashnoks too,
All make the mission seem horrible true.


Odyssey’s in Cardassian space,
Magellan’s met the Guardian race.
Voyager’s crew is going insane,
Phoenix is dying, computer to blame.


Galileo’s fighting off Borg with torpedoes,
While Stacy and Ben kick back with burritos.
Everyone makes fun of how their crew’s doing,
Unless there are no cheers, replaced by rare booing.


Soviets are back in Red Storm Risin’,
While Adam freaks out, flying Scarlet Horizon.
Voyager’s dealing with angry tree-huggers,
While Odyssey’s hunting for blood-thirsty buggers.


Magellan blows up Romulus for no reason,
While Galileo goes rogue, getting charged for high treason.
The volunteers laugh bout’ the terror they sow,
What happens next, only R’karr would know...


End of the day, we all go home thinking:
We will return, in just a short winking.
Then they will scream in absolute terror,
All because of a Space Center Scare!

End of the day, we all go home thinking:
We will return, in just a short winking.
Then they will scream in absolute terror,
All because of a Space Center Scare!

Please Fortuna, Look the Other Way

Would you like to see something shocking?
I got hold of this classified xray of Kermit the Frog.
Something doesn't look quite right.

Hello Troops,
Yesterday was a cake walk. Double field trips and private missons afterwords. I'm told the staff and volunteers were still in good spirits at 9:00 P.M. when the last groups left. Come on, you folks out there need to give us a real challenge. Its time to book more private missions and sign up for more camps.

Today we repeat the whole thing with double field trips and private missions. Do you see fear in our our eyes? Do you see sweating any more than normal? Do you see us in consultations with school district mental health specialists? Do you see American Forks's Catholic Priest sitting on the bench in the school's foyer ready to administer the last rites to an overworked and over stressed space center staffer or volunteer who's knocking on Heaven's door? All to be answered No, No and Double No. We are hyped, we are caffeinated and we are ready for nearly anything.

Now, I need to be careful. Every time I write that things are fine, Fortuna, the Goddess of Fate, gets her dander up and figures out ways to slam us. She loves to deal harshly with us at times but lately she seems to be preoccupied with other concerns. Let's see if I can get this post off without retribution. Let's enjoy our good fortune while it lasts!

And now, a few thoughts from the Imaginarium's Department of Etiquette.

Our Busy Week

Hello Troops,
We are out of the gate running. This is our busiest week at the Space Center. We've got double field trips every day (ending at 6:00 P.M. when the last bus leaves) then private missions in most of the ships afterwords. I may have gone slightly overboard with the scheduling but not to worry, with the staff and volunteers we've got, a week like this is easily managed. Its the recovery over the weekend that will be rough - but that's done at home so no real concern of mine :)

Finally, a few things from the Imaginarium in hopes that your day will be as productive as ours. Remember, if something needs doing, do it with imagination.

If you need to take Puddgy on a walk, do it with imagination. Strap on this "Silence of the Lambs" mask and enjoy people's reactions. Warn them to stay back though. He's cute from a distance, but they won't like seeing their future reflection in a mirror if the mask were to slip off.


If you need to search for the droids, do it with imagination. Google can find anything.



If you're told to put a bench near the light post, do it with imagination. Who wouldn't want to enjoy your lunch from that vantage point?

Now go change the world, one thought at a time. And remember to stay positive.


Mr. Williamson

It's Easter! A Few Thoughts and the Imaginarium.

Hello Troops,
Had enough sugar for one day, or are you just beginning? I'm real old school when it comes to my candy of choice for Easter. You can have the jelly bean eggs. You can keep the Cadbury chocolate delights. I'll be your friend for life if you save me the marshmallow Peeps and the Brach's Easter Eggs with the colored candy shell and that white marshmallow interior. It's comfort candy to me - a reminder of my Easters in South Dakota as a kid.

My parents didn't put a lot of time into Easter, as evident in our traditional "Easter Egg Hunt". Every Easter afternoon my seven brothers and sister and I would be ordered to the basement after Sunday School to take off our church clothes and wait for the arrival and departure of the "Bunny". Maybe it was because we were the poor kids on the block, or maybe Rapid City, South Dakota was always the Bunny's last stop, but that darn Bunny didn't put a lot of effort into the hiding of our eggs. His haste always led to concussions and spilt blood.

Imagine eight children on a very narrow staircase, huddled with pillowcases (we couldn't afford the nicely woven, colorful baskets). We sat close to each other and waited for the upstair's door to open - the signal that the Hunt was on. My older sister and I sat at the bottom of the stairway on my parent's orders. Putting us at the end of the line was intended to give our younger siblings first dibs on the pickings. It never did and always led to disaster. Sometimes parents never learn.

We all jumped up and pressed forward when the door opened. Our hearts pounded in our chests, feeding off the thought of pure sugar.
"You can come up!" Suddenly the words we waited for were spoken. It was time to put brotherly love aside or go without the good stuff for another year.

First blood was always drawn on the rush up the stairs. It was usually the youngest's bloody nose. My sister and I, having had more experience at that kind of thing and carrying more mass, easily pushed and shoved the other six out of the to make it outside first.

The Bunny's haste usually meant most of the eggs were located in one central area on the back lawn.
"There they are!" was the shout we all listened for. Once the stash was located, it was like two football teams descending on a fumbled football. We all piled in, pushing and shoving, swinging and missing, swinging and hitting, biting and punching - it didn't matter. There were no rules in this evolutionary sport of survival of the fittest.

Now that I'm older I understand why our neighbors were always outside at their back fences. Watching the Williamson's Easter Egg raucous was better than anything on TV. Some of them joined in the fun by waiting until our collecting was finished and then shouted that we had missed a few. We watched while they threw several eggs by the tree. They laughed as the whole rugby scrum formed and fur, hair and teeth flew all over again. It was like tossing a whole piece of bread into a gaggle of ducks on the pond. Feathers flew and camera's snapped.

At the end, we four oldest had most of the candy eggs and Peeps while the youngest had the strangely colored hard boiled eggs we'd dyed the night before. Then came the tears and screams. The four of us knew that Mom would make us share the candy and Peeps if we didn't eat them right then and there. We ran to the side of the house and shoved them into our mouths as fast as we could (or rehid them for retrieval at 11:00 P.M when everyone was in bed).

The Holy Grail of our Easter was finding the one that got away. Remember finding that one candy egg or marshmallow Peep that escaped the search lights and blood hounds? There it quietly sat, hiding up high on the window ledge behind the living room curtain for a month or so until discovered. The thrill of finding the "One that Got Away" was intoxicating. The screaming would be followed by a parade through the house where the delicious morsel would be held out like a captive general of an opposing army. Your pride would swell from hearing "I can't believe it," said over and over again.

The Easter trophy would sometimes be eaten in front of everyone right after the parade. We believed that it's craftiness and cunning could be transferred into our own being through digestion. Other times the candy would be kept as a trophy to be taken out, dusted and shown to company for the next several months.

Yes, those are my Easter memories........ Happy days.......

Speaking of Eggs.. How about a few things from the Imaginarium?












Finally,
Two of my favorite public service ads. They are only 30 seconds long and meant to remind us about the power of words. Please watch them and think. Words are very powerful both in building up and tearing down.

Have a Happy Easter!
Mr. W.