Screen Shots of the New Galileo Controls

Hello Troops,
One of our Troubadour readers suggested that I put a few screen shots of the Galileo's new Cocoa (Apple's programming language for the iPhone and iPad) simulator controls on the blog for everyone to enjoy. Let it never be said that Mr. Williamson doesn't listen to The Troubadour's regular readers.

Your wish is my command....

Our Programming Guild has been working hard on these new controls for nearly two years. Much of that time was spent learning Cocoa, then came the art work. The biggest hurdle the Guild faced was the ...... ah.......ummm????.......ah .... the server....gizzmo thing that sends out the ah... things.... to the ....... Anyway, I'm sure you understand what I mean from that brilliant description provided.

So, with drums rolling and trumpets blaring I present a few shots of the Galileo's Cocoa Controls written for touch screen.

A hush has fallen over the Imaginarium as the congregants sit and wait for the red velvet curtain to rise.
The trumpets have stopped.
Amazing pyrotechnics are lighting the hall.
The Space Center has spared no expense in the unveiling of these new controls.

Now three large booms and darkness. The hall is completely dark. A spotlight has appeared, focused on the exact center of the curtain. The curtain is rising.

I can't see very well from where I'm sitting but I'm hearing gasps. Now I can see the controls for myself! I'm enveloped in thunderous applause. Paramedics are rushing to the front of the hall. I'm told there is a problem with minor fainting from those closest to the stage).

A Lemonade and Good Company

Hello Troops,
What a week we've had. You read in the previous post how Fortuna had her way with us yesterday with the Voyager's issues, not to mention the day before with the wacky weather. Sometimes I want to climb up on the school's roof, raise my hands to the sky and cry "Enough Already!".

Yesterday Tregan appeared at the bottom of the Voyager's stairs holding a Diet Coke in his outstretched hands. He walked up the steps to where I stood at the Security Station wondering what to do about the shattered plastic. He was like a worshipper at a Greek Temple presenting gifts to the Gods in hopes of favorable attention. It made me chuckle and brightened my mood.

"This is from the staff and volunteers," he said.

Sometimes that's all it takes to turn an ugly situation into something tolerable. It was an act of kindness that was appreciated. Thank you staff and volunteers for the kind thought and thanks for spending your soda pop money on me.

OK, its Sunday and a rainy one at that here in Utah. In the Imaginarium its bright, sunny and warm. So, come on over to my table and enjoy a Lemonade with me while we relax and let our imaginations run amok through space and time. We desperately need a break from the here and now.

Bluntness has its place. So does complete honesty. So does knowing when and where that place and time is. So volunteers and staff, don't be offended if I'm blunt with you at times. I'm only helping readjust your perspective. You'll be the better for it :)

The Magic School bus in the Imaginarium.

One sign wouldn't have scratched the surface of my anger yesterday afternoon. Next time I have a simulator melt down like that I'm renting three large billboards on Interstate 15. Make them digital billboards so I can exclaim my feelings in full, rich and vibrant color.

This is what it feels like to children when they come to the Space Education Center to face the universe's greatest villains and natural phenomena. They become heroes. They save the day. The Space Center is a magical place that hugs and nourishes the imaginations and egos of our little ones.

Stupid people rise to the surface if you let them. Look below for another example.

Really people? Really?
Is Canadian self esteem so desperately low that their national identity is anchored to hockey?
I think Canada would implode in on itself if it ever faced a true national emergency.

And in that mirrored universe physics tells us may be out there.......

I plan on printing several dozen of these and keeping them in my pocket. I'll pull one out, remove the paper backing and apply it to your shirt when you've occupied my attention long enough in a conversation

"Doctor's orders," I'll say as I walk away. I'm sure you'll understand.


They wait for the lunch bell at the Imaginarium's Nearly There Home for Elderly Superheroes and The Confused. On today's menu, Tomato Soup with milk, toast for dipping, tapioca pudding and for dessert - their afternoon pill to help with aching joints.

Another of God's Gifts to Mankind.
All doubters are Condemned by order of the Management.

I want this lamp for my desk and I want it now. Don't keep scrolling down. I said I want this lamp for my desk. Do something about it. You have your orders. Carry them out.
Who said I was easy to please?

There is always something interesting to see in the Imaginarium.

Have you ever wondered if that person staring at you from the park bench or in line at the WalMart may be a time traveller? I sometimes get this overwhelming impulse to walk up to one of them and ask why they've chosen that particular place and time to appear. Could they be waiting for a disaster to strike? Or, perhaps its me they've travelled back in time to study. The thought is prime nourishment for one's ego.




I'm writing my family's history on another blog (americandynasty.org). My greatest frustration is coming to a dead end on an ancestral line because no one living at that time in my family kept records or wrote anything about their lives.

Please do your descendants a favor and keep some kind of a journal or diary - even if you think your life is boring and repetitive. One day, your descendants will cherish those writings.

Amen Brother

I need a refill on my lemonade but before I do, I think I'll have a nice lay down and snooze. So if you'll excuse me, I'll be taking my leave.

Have a Great Weekend. I hope to see you all at the Space Education Center soon. Our time in the trenches passes slowly without you.

Mr. Williamson

Mr. Williamson, Fortuna and the Boggart. A Story of Misfortune and Redemption.

Fortuna

Pleasing to the Eye. A Blessing and Curse to One's Fortunes.

The Night

"Looketh how he lay at peace with his fortunes."

"Tis good fair lady. This is the third moon of their gathering."

"Three moons and yet not a thought for the good fortune bestowed. Would you not see such behavior as ingratitude?"

"Fair Lady, this human has toiled through many hardships brought on by your hand. Wouldn't it be an act of godly grace that he be given a season of peace and tender mercy?"

"And let his arrogance go unpunished? I am Fortuna, the Goddess of Fortune. I bless and curse. I love and hate. I reward and punish. Mortals are as fickle as the changing seasons. In times of trial they cry out for solace and in times of abundance they forget and cast us aside as fable and superstition."

"How then has this one sleeping upon the floor on a shallow pad neglected you? I see no evidence. Might my Fair Lady find herself on the cusp of boredom? Perhaps you seek sport and find him competent for the challenge?"

"Careful little one. You occupy this position because of my benevolence."

"I seek my Lady's forgiveness."

"Granted. Now to sport. The suns comes to dispel the night and I fear the Great Zeus might be upon us when he wakes. Zeus has one true weakness, his fondness for these fragile mortals."

"You too, like the Great Zeus, have given great fortunes to many a mortal Fair Lady. How do you and the Great Zeus differ?"

"I dispense and withdraw fortune as randomly as the rain falls. Zeus trusts in emotion's council when deciding who to reward and who to punish. His heart is too large and his mind too weak. It will one day be his undoing."

"Look the mortal stirs. His boat passes through the fog separating dream from actuality."

"Then let us be quick. Take my Rod and step through the boundary separating us. Be clever with what you touch, remembering that Zeus will awaken soon. I fear this mortal's cry may disturb the solitude of Olympus if the misfortunes you dispense on my behalf are too great a burden for his soul."

"Your wishes are my command Fair Lady."

A Boggart. Never to be trusted. Always a Nuisance.

The Boggart stepped through the boundary and onto the Briefing Room's carpet. Mr. Williamson slept at his feet, not knowing Fortuna had once again found him in need of her attentions. The Boggart raised the Rod then slowly moved it toward Mr. Williamson's arm laying motionless off the sliver of a mattress. Fortuna spoke from behind air's shadow, warning him that such foolishness would bring the wrath of Zeus. The Boggart hesitated, then stepped back - wanting to disobey but feared his Lady's wrath.

He found the doorway leading to the Voyager. He found the Voyager's control room. The black electrical box on the wall intrigued him. He knew little of human engineering but knew that the metal switches protruding from the box carried great importance. He held forth the Rod and touched one of the switches. Sparks ignited, showering the control room in light. He felt his Lady's pleasure.

"What is this," the Boggart sneered. A computer router's flashing blue lights caught his attention.
"Pond Fairies?" he questioned. "I despise Pond Fairies?"
He held out the Rod to touch the router's plastic shell. Upon contact, the Rod glowed a deep dark red, melting a small portion of the plastic.

"You've done well Boggart, now one more and be quick about it. I feel Zeus awakening," Fortuna whispered from the land mere mortals see only from the corner of their eyes.

The Boggart struggled with the weight of his Fair Lady's Rod as he climbed the stairs onto the Voyager's Bridge.

"Zeus awakens - return through the Boundry." Fortuna extended her hand through the barrier to retrieve her Rod and Boggart.

The Boggart turned to leave, then saw something that turned his slushy blood to ice. He saw his reflection staring back at him in the black plastic of the Security Station. He recoiled in horror. Everyone knows that Boggarts can go mad when confronted with the hideousness of their natural appearance. He touched the plastic with the Rod in an attempt to shatter the reflection. Fortuna's hand grabbed the Rod just as it touched the plastic. A small crack formed.

"We are finished with him," Fortuna pulled the Rod and its attached Boggart back through the Boundary. The mortal world at the Space Center was again normal.

The Morning

At 9:15 A.M. Josh A. appeared in front of my desk. I was answering emails.

"Mr. Williamson, the toggle switch turning off and on the Voyager's white lights broke off. We can't turn the normal lights on at all. What do we do?"

Mr. Williamson's heart sank. Everything was going so well. It was day four of their long Ultimate Camp. He was hoping the whole thing would end without an upset.

"Why now Fortuna," Mr. Williamson mumbled under his breath. He told Josh to tell Casey to finish the mission on red alert lights. After the End of Camp Staff Meeting, Mr. Williamson braved the Strawberry Day's Parade traffic and went out to find a 30 amp toggle switch. He was thwarted at every turn. Hardware stores only carried toggle switches up to 20 amps. For 30 amps he needed to visit a speciality electrical store. He had no option but to return empty handed and feeling very much like a failure.

The Afternoon

"What does my Lady think," the Boggart asked as he and Fortuna watched from a realm unseen to the natural eye.

"I am pleased. Look how frustrated he becomes." Fortuna snapped her fingers for service. The Boggart jumped. "This calls for the finest Ambrosia. Let us take refreshment as we enjoy this morning's sport."

Mr. Williamson told Emily to start the Voyager and run the next five hour mission on red lights only. He went to sit at his desk to open the mail when another volunteer entered the Briefing Room. "Mr. Williamson, have you seen the Faculty Room's floor? There's water everywhere."

Fortuna and the Boggart looked at each other in confusion. They wondered if another God of Olympus had his or her sights on their day's prey. From their immortal perch they followed the parade of staff and volunteers to the Faculty Room. The tile floor in front of the fridge, sink and dishwasher held a large pond of water, much of which was seeping into the surrounding carpet.

"Bravo," Fortuna hissed to whomever it was that vied for her attention and used one of her favorites for personal sport.

"Have I been defeated at my own game?" Fortuna questioned. The Boggart shrugged his shoulders. Someone else entered the room.

"The Perry Paxman," Fortuna hissed. "I thought us rid of that one!" Fortuna clutched her Rod and fought the urge to materialize into human form to deal with her once and for all. The Boggart cowered behind his Lady's glimmering gown. "What brings the Perry Paxman into our game?"

Emily walked into the Faculty Room looking concerned. "Get out from behind me," Fortuna pushed the Boggart away with her foot. "Look at her face. Look at the worry. This is turning out to be a fine day." The two immortals grasped hands, knowing from the look on Emily's face that "the other shoe" was about to drop.

"Mr. Williamson, the Voyager's computers are all freezing on startup. We can't start the ship. What do we do?" Emily needed an answer right away. Her crew was arriving for their 5 hour mission. Fortuna and the Boggart glowed in the knowledge that their night's divining had brought a disruption to "The Perry Paxman's" life as well as Mr. Williamson's.

"Two birds with one Rod," the Boggart laughed. Fortuna patted him on the head. "Good Boggart. Good Boggart."

Mr. Williamson saw something from the corner of his eye - the ghost of a woman standing next to what looked like a heavily sooted gargoyle from a European cathedral. The apparition disappeared the moment it was spotted.

"I believe he saw us Fair Lady." the Boggart worried.

"Perhaps, but like all mortals, he questions what he sees. Pay it no mind," she assured.

Mr. Williamson told Emily to brief the crew while he tried to sort out the Voyager's computers. His mood was dark and his appearance frightening. The staff saw the storm forming in the atmosphere above his head and knew to steer clear of something that could explode unexpectedly in a fury sure to please Fortuna and her Boggart.

Emily was right, the Voyager's computers were freezing on startup. Mr. Williamson was at a lost and ordered everyone out of the simulator while he puzzled over the dilemma.

Knowing this problem wouldn't be solved quickly, Mr Williamson turned to Brittney, "Brittney, move the Voyager crew into the Magellan. You fly this five hour mission." Brittney jumped up and left the ship, taking the rest of the staff with her.

Before leaving the Voyager, some of the staff and volunteers thought to shut down the Security Station. The large black plastic sheet covering the two security computers had to be slid away to do it.

"This could be interesting," the Boggart exclaimed. "Remember how I touched the plastic before you stopped me and pulled me back through the Boundary?"
Fortuna nodded.

Mr. Williamson heard a loud crack. The long black plastic sheet covering the two computers cracked in half. It was the 'last straw' for Mr. Williamson.

"Everyone out. Go to the Magellan." Mr. Williamson's blood pressure reached an all time record.

"He's defeated," Fortuna gloated. "The victory is mine."

"Fair Lady, you may have spoken too soon. Look." The Boggart pointed to a small light descending from Olympus.

Mr. Williamson sat looking at the router. He couldn't figure out why all the computers were freezing at once. Then a memory emerged. The last time he'd seen this kind of disruption to a computer network was when a student created a network loop in the computer lab. Mr Williamson jumped out of the Flight Director's chair and followed the ethernet cable he thought was the culprit. The cable was connecting a large router mounted in a box on the wall to a smaller one located further down the wall. It was a network loop! He unplugged the cable and the Voyager's network problem disappeared. All was well.

"Fortuna," a loud booming voice bellowed through the valleys and mountains of Greece and round the world. The Boggart's eyes grew as wide as saucers. He jumped up, snapped his fingers and disappeared in a cloud of dust and fume.

Fortuna slowly stood and walked toward her golden chariot pulled by white horses. Her sport was done for that day. She stopped momentarily to look one last time on a happy Mr. Williamson and a Voyager simulator with functioning computers. She waved her arm to close the Boundary. The fracture between the land of mortals and immortals closed.

Mt. Olympus

"It will be a long summer mortal. Many things can happen. Zeus can't watch over you all the time. Our paths will cross." She took the reigns and shook them. The horses jumped into a magical gallop taking the Goddess of Fortune to the heights of Olympus for a meeting with the King.

The Last Night

Hello Troops,
This is the last night of the first Ultimate Camp of the Summer Season. I came to work Wednesday morning and look forward to leaving Wonderland and the Imaginarium tomorrow late afternoon.

I'm rethinking my exit strategy. Perhaps I'll leave thirty minutes earlier than I normally do to avoid the rush of Imaginarium employees getting off work when we finish a camp. The crowds on the Wonderland Platform were unmanageable last week. I think I'll avoid the unpleasantness by getting away early and catching the mid afternoon express.

I couldn't take the campers swimming yesterday because of gail- force winds and dropping temperatures. White caps were seen on the surface of the swimming pool. No swimming means stinky kids, and that is a problem in close sleeping quarters.

I solved our stinky problem today by organizing a showering expedition for our four day campers at the Pleasant Grove pool. The pool's manager agreed to let our campers use their showers at no charge. What choice did he have? I threatened a sit in in the pool's lobby if my demands were not met. I told him to imagine thirty stinky kids chanting anti administration slogans and preventing anyone from entering the pool. He gulped with understanding.

We left the school for the pool at 3:20 P.M. after our EdVentures Campers went home We got back from showering, shaving and deorderizing at 4:00 P.M. Our clean campers were ready for their next 2.5 hour mission and then their last rotation with the Overnight Campers.

Time for bed.

Mr. W.

June's Surprises

Hello Troops,
They say we are in the midst of global warming? If our weather is any indication that our planet is heating up then the scientists are sorely mistaken. The strong northerly winds and dropping temperatures forced me to cancel our camp swimming at the outdoor Pleasant Grove Swimming Pool this evening. That's two weeks in a row cool temperatures forced a change in plans. Last week I had enough warning to arrange a bus and organize a trip to the indoor Orem Rec. Center. This week I relied on the weather report saying it would be 75 degrees today. I don't recall reading about strong winds and the early arrival of a cold front. And that is what I get for rely on the weather forecast and not my own gut instinct. My gut told me to arrange a bus just in case - but I ignored it. My gut told me to call Orem Rec. and make arrangements - but I ignored it.

Other plans had to be imagined and implemented. Thankfully Megan Warner and Jon Parker were on hand, along with other great staff and volunteers, to take the burden off my shoulders. They organized outdoor and indoor games to fill the time void created by canceling our swimming. It went perfectly. Megan has some of the kids outside playing a game she learned while serving an LDS mission to South Korea. Jon had the rest in them in the gym playing dodgeball and similar games.

Our schedule returned to normal after the games. The campers retired to the cafeteria for videos. Now they are tucked into their beds and drifting off to Dreamland.

There are two more days of camps. I get to go home Saturday night. I'm hoping for no more surprises. I long for routine, blessed routine.

Simply,
Mr. Williamson

Settling Down for the Night

Hello Troops,

It's 12:03 A.M.
Midnight was the start of the second day of our EdVenture and Ultimate Camp. The campers arrived at 7:00 P.M. The EdVenture Campers go home Friday afternoon. The Ultimate Campers go home Saturday morning.

We've spent the last hour working with a young camper struggling with home sickness and a fear of aliens. His mother says he was fine with sci fi and aliens until he and his younger brother watched the movie Signs ten days ago. Since then he's had nightmares and has developed a fear of space and aliens.

He started crying before the first rotation started. I talked him into staying and let him watch the Magellan mission from the Control Room. I knew our real struggle would come at bedtime.

I've got to hand it to the boy. He is a real trooper. He called his mother and consented to stay one night. He starts to cry then pulls himself out of it and settles down. He has never slept away from family before so this is a big step for a ten year old.

Right now I've got him settled on the Voyager Bridge. Jon and Adam will keep an eye on him. If there are problem they'll come and get me.

We've got a great bunch of excited campers this week. I'm expecting great things.

The one drawback to our camp and this weekend's private missions will be Pleasant Grove's Strawberry Days. This camp ends at 10:00 A.M. Saturday which is the same time the parade will be moving through town. The streets around the school will be closed. Our camper's families will have a tough time finding their way to the school to pick up their kids. I'm expected many frustrated phone calls.

Time for bed.

Mr. W.

Marvin Can't go to the Space Center

Marvin Maplethorp is one very upset boy this morning. His mother shattered his dreams during breakfast when she told him that he was too young to go to his older brother's birthday party at the Space Education Center. His mood didn't change even after she broke her own rule and brought out his Wolfman mug. Such a thing would normally be strictly forbidden at the breakfast table but there are times even mothers break their own rules.

Marvin would have none of it. He saw his mother's weakness and pulled out the next trick in his arsenal. He threatened never to eat again and pounded his forehead on the table.

"You'll be too scared. There are aliens that attack you and stuff," his older brother said as he shoveled spoonfuls of Cheerios into his mouth in a mad rush to finish quickly and get ready.

"I'm not afraid of aliens," Marvin shot back in his own defense.

"Not these kind of aliens." His brother sat back in his chair, thought for a moment and continued. "On my last overnight camp our ship was taken over by these really tall and skinny aliens. We all ran and hid. I crawled under a desk. I heard security shooting at the alien. The workers called security down, that means they got shot. It was only me and this alien. I heard the door open. It was dark. I looked up from under the desk and saw the most hideous creature I'd ever seen coming after me."

Marvin's eyes grew as large as quarters. "Did it get you?" he asked.

His brother described the alien in detail. He told how he fought bravely for his ship and crew. He described how it nearly got him but the revived security guards were able to get to him first.

"Them aliens like small kids like you 'cause you can't fight back like us bigger kids. If you went to my party you'd be taken for sure. Then what's mom suppose to do? She'll cry all day and night. All because you are acting like a baby and threw a fit about coming to my party?" His brother looked at his mom and smiled. His over exaggerated story telling was having its desired effect.

Marvin thought for a moment, then said that maybe he was a too small. "But when I get older I'll get them aliens," he declared as he reached for his Wolfman mug filled with Donald Duck Orange Juice.

Marvin and his mother spent some time at WalMart while his brother and his friends were at the Space Center. Mother shopped for groceries and Marvin looked for laser guns and other useful items to defend himself from alien attack.

_________________________________________________________________

And now, a few items from the Imaginarium offered to shore up your imagination.

VanGogh's Mordor and the Starry Night, for sale only in the Imgainarium's Gift Shop.

Junior attempts to move a few objects using the dark side of the force while he waits for his Happy Meal.

Steam Punked R2D2

And so, Tuesday is upon us.

Mr. W.

The Start to a New Week.

Antonio Rigamortii waits for the call to collect dead imaginations from his shop near the Wonderland Station.
His is the saddest job at the Imaginarium.
Pray you never find Antonio on your doorstep.
Exercise your imagination daily. Put the Extra in the Ordinary.

Hello Troops,
After taking everything into account I'll venture far enough to say that we all enjoyed a good first week in the trenches of the summer season's first camp. Monday night was the first Overnight Camp of the season. All the ships except the Voyager told their new summer missions. The reviews were flattering and the campers generous with praise. I regret not sending regular updates from the Imaginarium. There was always some kind of emergency that needed my attention every time I'd sit down to write.

This week starts with a series of private missions followed on Wednesday with an EdVenture Camp and Overnight Camp. When put together the two separate camps become our first Ultimate Camp. Its a clever way of making a long four day camp by stitching together two regular camps. An original idea from yours truly. I blush in your admiration.

I'm thinking I'll use one of the portals to Wonderland and the Imaginarium tomorrow. I'm not in the mood for an underground subway trek. Saturday's mad rush and the foul temperament of the departing crowd was enough for one week.


This portal into the Imaginarium is handy and nearby. If you're lucky, you'll find a hobbit or two. A friendly "Hello" usually results in an invitation to join them for first and second breakfasts, only if you arrive early enough in the morning.

Here are a few other items showing great imagination.


The receipe for epic tales....... Now the challenge. Write a new Space Center mission using the formula below. Remember the key word is Epic.

Do you join me in this dream of an ideal world?
It begins with you. Never ask that question again.

Ah, the things you see on any given day in the Imaginarium. Just step outside to stretch your legs and in an instant your perceptions of the here and now are challenged.



There are times in life when it's necessary to walk away and take the path less traveled. Such decisions should be made carefully because they can be life changing.

Do you feel the urge to step out of matrix and forge ahead into the Unknown Desert? Changing your way of thinking and questioning what others claim is concrete can, at times, lead to loneliness. It disturbs the status quo, which in turn upsets those that follow the cycle religiously. Stepping away to gain a better understanding of our world and universe is how the mental processes evolve. This evolution takes us one step closer toward learning how to live peacefully with ourselves and with each other. It is raw courage at its best.

If it were only that easy.

A Confession.
One of my true weaknesses.

Finally, an admonition and advice for today only. Tomorrow will take care of itself.


And to the Space Education Center's awesome staff and volunteers,
I'll see you in the trenches.

And to our kind readers. We hope to see you soon at the place where imagination and dreams collide into a practically perfect blend of education and adventure.

Mr. W.

They are Lucky to be Alive. Space Center Heroes.

And One Last Step. "Pray for Survivors".

Hello Troops,

Last night I left the Space Center in good hands to attend Chris Call's wedding reception. I was gone 45 minutes. I congratulated Chris and his bride, spoke briefly with Alan Stewart, held Alan's baby son (he wanted to come to me strangely enough), spoke to David Call and his girl friend Jessica (a former student of mine), paid my respects to the delights spread out on the serving tables (a chocolate fountain) and returned to the Space Center to lock the doors.

I was struck by the quiet when I entered the school. My instincts told me something was amiss. I knew the Odyssey and Galileo had missions until 7:00 P.M. and it was 6:45 P.M.

Suddenly there was an explosion from the cafeteria. The Galileo mission was still running. I walked down the ramp, opened the cafeteria door and saw Christine delivering an Academy Award winning performance into her microphone. I shut the door and walked up the ramp toward the Space Center's Office. There was still no sound from the Odyssey.

I walked into the Office to see what was wrong and was immediately struck by the powerful smell of something that made my body's gag reflex react. I backed out to the relative safety of the hallway.

"Jon! Devin! Are you in there?" I shouted. There was no answer. "Anyone in there at all?" There was still no answer.

Something horrific had happened. I had to put mind over matter, stifle my gag reflexes and forge ahead into the abyss. I cautiously walked back into the Briefing Room. The middle bank of fluorescent lights were flickering, making me feel like I was walking into a silent film. It was all too surreal. There was something familiar about what I was experiencing. A memory raced through my mind turning my blood cold.

"Aliens," I whispered through the fingers held tightly over my mouth and nose. How else could you explain the silence and the smell? I heard a sound in the Odyssey's transporter door. It turned slightly revealing the shadowy figure of a boy in a white doctor's coat. He fell to his knees and then out the door onto the carpeted hallway. It was Nabil, one of our volunteers. I rushed to the door, grabbed his wrists and pulled him out of the room into the hallway. He was choking. He struggled to speak. He pointed back into the room.

"Devin," he coughed out. I rushed to the Odyssey's Control Room door and opened it. The smell sent me to my knees. I pulled my shirt up over my mouth and nose and struggled back to my feet using the doorknob for balance. Devin and his 2nd chair were unconscious - their faces painted in olive green. I saw that the Odyssey's AIU Computer had functioned correctly and followed its preprogrammed emergency functions by deploying the oxygen masks. They dangled over our two brave uncounsious staff who were barely breathing. I pulled them out one by one.

"Jon," Devin whispered after loosing his lunch on the blue and white hallway floor. "He was in there with us."

I again pulled my shirt up over my face and nose and reentered the room. The smell was too powerful, stopping me dead near my desk. My self preservation instincts urged me to evacuated but I couldn't leave a valued staff member and friend behind. A solution came to mind. I fell over my desk and found my bottle of cheap cologne stored next to the printer. I made a mask of tissue doused with cologne to give me enough time to search the perimeter. I rushed to the other desk and found Jon on the floor curled in a fetal position.

"Jon, get up!" I shouted. There was no response. I struggled to get him to his feet. The chair was in the way along with the black hole lost and found box. Thankfully Nabil appeared and helped me get him to his feet and out of the room.

"Weapons," I said to Nabil. "Run to the Magellan's closets and bring back all their phaser rifles. If these aliens want the good people of Pleasant Grove they'll have to get through us first."

Nabil looked confused. "There are no aliens Mr. Williamson. One of the kids in the Odyssey had an accident."

"What?" I questioned. "No Aliens?" Nabil shrugged his shoulders and nodded.
"That can't be. The circulation system has fail safes. Such a catastrophe can't happen - not here - and definitely not at the Space Center where all contingencies are taken into account!"

I knew that the air circulation system should have prevented any human smell from reaching the caustic point. Such an occurrence was anticipated in the design of the air handling system. So what had gone wrong? I glanced a the clock and remembered that I had forgotten to do something earlier. The air conditioning system was programed to switch off at 5:00 P.M. It was now nearly 7:00 P.M. My "To Do List" had 'change the air timer' in position one. It was another one of "My Bad's". For two hours there was no conditioned air circulating through the Briefing Room, Odyssey and Phoenix. I had created the perfect atmospheric storm.

The mission was over. The crew was revived and sent on their way. It was time to go where no man dared go - into an infected ship. Jon, being younger and braver, entered first. I followed. The interior of the Odyssey was noxious. Regardless, we had to find the source.

"Anything?" I shouted through the scented tissues.
"Nothing," Jon answered.
"Check the chairs."

Our Carefully Trained Space Center Staff
prepare to disinfect the chair

The offending chair was found, removed and fumigated.

You are all invited to attend the presentation of the Space Center's Merit Award to Devin, Jon, Nabil and Devin's Second Chair (I don't remember who it was) at the end of the Overnight Camp on Saturday. They stayed at their posts, doing everything they could to keep their mission moving forward even in the face of overwhelming obstacles and non circulating and conditioned air. They set the example for all of us.

Excellent Work!

Mr. Williamson

Returing from a Week's Worth of Camps.

I stood on the cold concrete subway platform waiting for the train. The Wonderland Station was crowded with Imaginarium employees doing what I was doing, trying to get home after having spent several days fueling the imaginations of scores of children and teens involved in the Space Center's camps.

The air was strangely void of conversation. People were exhausted. They stood shifting their weight from one foot to the other. Their eyes were fixed on different points of interest. Some stared at the large billboard opposite the tracks advertising Voyages of Imagination on the StarDust Dreamliner. Others seemed preoccupied with shoes, looking up only to check the illuminated clock with a six foot diameter face overhead. A green tortoise sat at the end of the hour hand using his head to point to the passing hours. A hare sat frozen in a leap at the end of the minute hand. The craftsmanship was exquisite, a testament to the skill of the Imagineers who built the station one thought at a time.

I closed my eyes and thought about my vacation home in the Black Hills of South Dakota. My thoughts were read by the Imaginarium's night shift. Someone on the fifty first floor pulled the right combination of levers sending the smell of ponderosa pine through the air circulation system. I held a thumbs up high over my head in appreciation.

The rose lights hanging delicately from green vines circling the station's ceiling started to dim then brighten. Everyone's attention shifted to the left. Out in the dark was the incoming 6:15 train. I felt someone's hand on my back, an impatient gesture urging me to move closer to the platform's edge. I resisted.

"Patience patience. We all want to get home," I mumbled. There was more jostling as everyone filled in the open spaces hoping to find a seat on a train that was notoriously crowded.

A cold wind racing ahead of the train blew through the station, replacing the smell of summer pine with the scent of humid fog. The crowd moved forward in unison, acting as one enormous beast. The train appeared, speeding quickly by then slowed to a stop. It's double doors slid open revealing cars packed tightly with employees from the Dreamland Station. We looked at them. They looked at us. It was a test of wills. We wanted in and their appearance made it perfectly clear they didn't want us to try.

"All Aboard!" the conducted shouted. The overhead rose colored lights ignited in full brilliance. The beast surged ahead. I was unceremoniously pushed forward. I remember encountering a large woman at the door wearing a pink dress decorated with flamingos and smelling of lilac and perspiration. Her elbows swung round like an electric mixer as she vainly tried to keep her valued spot near the doorway. She failed.

I think I briefly passed out because the next thing I remember was standing in the center of the car being propped up by the bodies of those around me. The train lurched forward sending everyone back one or two steps. The Wonderland Station disappeared behind us, replaced by the total dark of the tunnel. I was on my way home to a hot meal, family, friends, my favorite TV shows and soft bed with downy pillows.

Hello reality...... You were missed...

Mr. W.

And Into the First Night

Hello Troops,
The Imaginarium was nearly overwhelmed this evening as the first of our summer space campers descended onto the Space Education Center for their Overnight Camp. The portals ejected small human after small human into our staging area. Our staff showed them where to put their gear then directed them to the rank table. My table is a camper's last stop into the camp.

"Papers!" I ask. I use the same tone of voice used by the East German border guards when I crossed into communist East Germany many years ago. The younglings produce their Rank Advancement Papers.

"Is your name spelled correctly?" I ask. Many look confused. Others answer quickly.

"Staying overnight night or going home?" I look up into their eyes as if trying to catch them in a lie.

"Read this paper then bring it back. Keep your rank paper. We will take it from you later." I point to the stage. "Join the rest of the kids on the steps."

The campers walk toward the steps leading up to the stage and find a seat with the others.

"NEXT."

I play the good cop / bad cop routine with me playing both parts. I'm the stern East German at the sign in table and the friendly camp director when I welcome them and explain camp rules. Your average camper with standard intelligence is confused by my duel personality. That confusion is my ultimate goal. I can be warm and fuzzy if the occasion requires and unyielding and cold as petrified wood when pushed or challenged.

The campers in the Odyssey are settling down. There are no voices coming from the Voyager. Me thinks our visitors are drifting away to sleep. Their condition is contagious. I'm tired and may not be able to finish this post. If you see one key held down for a row or two then you know I fell asleep at the keyboard. Someone will eventually find me and direct me to my pad at the foot of my deskkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk

The First Day of Camp Season 2011

Hello Troops,
This is the first day of the 2011 Summer Camp Season (insert mental image of fireworks and large crowds of out of control teens storming the front doors of Central Elementary). The staff are getting ready to come to work (insert mental image of staff being mobbed in the parking lot for autographs). The simulators are up to par and our missions wait to be told.

The Newest Portal to the Imaginarium and the Space Center in Logan

Campers, refer back to your Confirmation Forms before coming to camp to find the nearest portal to the Imaginarium and the Space Education Center. I'm happy to announce a new portal has been added in Logan. You'll find this portal in the city park. Look for the large crow (our gatekeeper). Sit on the bench opposite the crow. Ignore the crow if he tries to engage you in conversation. He gets bored. Just sit, nod your head three times and let the crow to the rest.

Now, a few other things from our home here at the Imaginarium for your Monday morning.

Flower gardens, the Imaginarium Way.

I found these at the Optical Shop on Wonder Drive and Imagine Way. They come from
the Rachel Harken Line of Wonderspecs.

Lost, one Paperling. He escaped from the printed page yesterday and is wandering
unsupervised among us.

This is the last photo taken of Grandpa.
(I couldn't resist).

See you in the Trenches!
Mr. W.