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

Can We CoExist?

This Blog is a place where I record things for our collective memory - good, bad, and annoying.
Speaking of annoying - how about the Odyssey's close proximity to the school's library? We've been working with Central School’s Librarians ever since the Odyssey opened to find ways to stem the flow of bleeding sound from the simulator into the Library. Every year it comes to a head and then resolved. That tradition was continued last week with a note in my mail box from our librarian. The note was written politely. It said the noise was excessive and correction was needed. The note was to the point. Do you get a mental picture of a school librarian in plaid skirt, white blouse with glasses hanging around neck and hair up in a bun writing that note? Now add a sledge hammer in her hands. Do you see her taking massive swings, sending the iron top of the hammer into the shared cinder block wall between the Odyssey and library? The sparks and chips would provide the urgency in her note.

In addition to the noise her note complained that her repeated knocks on the Odyssey’s door, her way to tell you to turn the sound down, were ignored. She asked me to intercede for her sanity’s sake. I should of taken the matter into hand earlier in the year. Instead, I let it slip. The science of procrastination teaches that unpleasant tasks are best left to another day. That failed philosophy has Janet at the point of no return. If success isn’t achieved soon Dr. Carter will be drawn in for mediation. Our principal has enough on her plate so we needed to step up to the plate and do the right thing.
One solution would present a new challenge - running a mission with no sound. I suppose we could do everything through headphones or all of us could learn American Sign Language. That would also required the teaching of the language to our campers as part of their mission training. Training time would be increased from 30 minutes to several months or more for a private two and one half hour mission. Costly and not practical but you all know me - I always consider all alternatives before a course of action is taken.
Emily Perry, Odyssey’s Set Director, offered another promising solution. She suggested we clip the vocal chords of BJ Warner, our Decibel DJ and master violator of the peace. It was funny to imagine, but discarded in the end. BJ hopes to have a career on stage - as a actor, not a mime.
My final solution was both novel and imaginative. I ordered the sound turned down. Our librarian is satisfied. Making her happy would involve C4 explosives but she saw the need for compromise. She can be seen wandering the school with a noticeable smile. The nervous twitching around her eyes has stopped. The Odyssey Flight Directors, on the other hand, feel I’ve abandoned my principles. They describe me as having a bright yellow streak running down my back. I have two new nicknames. The more educated call me Chamberlain while others are fond of Benedict Arnold.
The Odyssey Flight Directors will adjust to flying with whisper technology and should be more relaxed knowing that the Odyssey and library will peacefully coexist.

Now I go to my room and sit quietly,
Mr. Williamson

Attendance Records Shattered

Hello Troops,
The Space Education Center celebrated its 18th anniversary last Saturday, November 8, 2008. This post is our yearly attendance report. Remember, a Space Center year runs November 8 to November 8.
Total Attendance for the year: 18, 682 A NEW RECORD!
Last year’s record: 18,526.
Total Number of Missions: 2,104 A NEW RECORD!
Last year’s record: 1,914.

Mission numbers ship by ship:

• Voyager 2008: 542. Last Year’s Record: 490
• Odyssey 2008: 656. Last Year’s Record: 624
• Galileo 2008: 247. Last Year’s Record: 188.
• Magellan 2008: 219. Last Year’s Record: 212
• Phoenix 2008: 440. Last Year’s Record: 400

This is a breakdown of the total number of missions over the last five years:

2004: 1,458
2005: 1,465
2006: 1,791
2007: 1,914
2008: 2,104

Every record was shattered this year.
Congratulations to the Volunteers and Staff of the Christa McAuliffe Space Education Center for a job well done. All have given their time and talents to achieve these numbers. Thank you.

Mr. Williamson

Do You Need A Chuckle? Read On.

Hello Troops,
Below you'll find the wisdom of the ages condensed into short, semi-digestable morsels.
Enjoy your time in this post.
After reading them I added another item to my growing wish list for my 51st birthday party candle blow out. I wish I could someday be clever enough to write observations like this.
Now I close with an old Irish proverb, "May the Ground rise up to meet you". I haven't a clue what that means but I'm beginning to think it was written under the influence of a couple pints of Guiness in a country pub fifty miles outside of Dublin.

Soberly Yours,
Mr. Williamson

The Wisdom of the Ages

• A day without sunshine is like… night.
• On the other hand, you have different fingers.
• I just got lost in thought. It was unfamiliar territory.
• 42.7 percent of all statistics are made up on the spot.
• 99.5% of lawyers give the rest a bad name.
• I feel like I'm diagonally parked in a parallel universe.
• Honk if you love peace and quiet.
• Remember, half the people you know are below average.
• He who laughs last thinks slowest.
• Depression is merely anger without enthusiasm.
• The early bird may get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.
• I drive way too fast to worry about cholesterol.
• Support bacteria. They're the only culture some people have.
• Monday is an awful way to spend 1/7 of your life.
• A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.
• Change is inevitable, except from vending machines.
• Get a new car for your spouse. It'll be a great trade!
• Plan to be spontaneous tomorrow.
• Always try to be modest, and be proud of it!
• If you think nobody cares, try missing a couple of payments.
• "How many of you believe in telekinesis? Raise my hand..."
• OK, so what's the speed of dark?
• How do you tell when you're out of invisible ink?
• If everything seems to be going well, you obviously have overlooked something.
• When everything is coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.
• Hard work pays off in the future. Laziness pays off now.
• Everyone has a photographic memory; some just don't have enough film.
• If Barbie is so popular, why do you have to buy her friends?
• Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines.
• What happens if you get scared half to death twice?
• I used to have an open mind but my brains kept falling out.
• I couldn't repair your brakes, so I made your horn louder.
• Why do psychics have to ask you for your name?
• Inside every older person is a younger person wondering "What happened?!"

Play, Imagination and School

I’ve come to realize that the word ‘play’ has been included in the four letter word category by many educational policy makers. Have we as a nation drifted so far off balance that play, the rich soil imagination springs from, has no educational value for those that make education policy? There are many in that community who believe play should be given a scarlet letter and put in the stocks for public scorn?

When I started teaching in 1983 America was reacting to a report called “A Nation at Risk”. The report said America needed to toughen its educational standards so our children could compete with their peers in other industrialized nations. It was a call to arms. The states began reviewing curriculum. Standards were set and high stakes testing became the flavor of the end of the 19th century. I was a believer in the change. I felt American education needed reform. I raised expectations in my classroom. I asked my students to reach higher.

Then, as we’ve done so many times in the past, the educational community carried standards and testing to the extreme. We sped past balance taking students to the opposite side of the scale. Today we see the resutls of those policies. Our schools are fast becoming testing factories. We have inputs and outputs and, like any kitchen gadget, we believe we can analyze that output with a set scale to determine success or failure.

We are where Japan was in the 1980’s. I remember all to well hearing and reading reports on the Japanese industrial education system. To be successfull, Japanese children attended school six days a week. Intense testing was paired with intense pressure to achieve. I remember reading that the suicide rate of Japanese teens was one of the highest in the world. My educator friends and I became concerned that our school’s would follow that model. We haven’t gotten there yet but we easily could if we are not careful.

I believe American schools should foster the qualities that made America great. Our ancestors came to this country to make a better life for themselves and their families. They were extraordinary risk takers. They saw opportunities and took action. They dreamed big. They had powerful imaginations. They had an intense desire to take control of their lives. No longer would they be puppets to unbearable circumstances . They were pioneers in every sense of the word. They wondered what was on the other side of the mountain. That wonder was matched with effort. They put on the backpack, reached for the walking stick, and set out on voyages of discovery.

Are we fostering that spirit of discovery and independence in our schools? Are we teaching our children to take responsibility for their learning? Are we teaching them the joy and sometimes heartache of making decisions and living with the outcomes? Are we teaching them to dream the impossible? Are we teaching them to imagine what can be and make it happen?

Are our schools ships of discovery? Are the ships at sea exploring strange new worlds and facing fierce billowing storms or are they still in port never leaving the safety of the harbor? Is education structured so our students test well but cannot stand on their own feet in the real world because their intellectual foundation didn’t prepare them to think and reason? Are our students up in the rigging setting the sails? Are they scrubbing the deck and polishing the brass? Are they on the midnight watch? Are they partners in their education or are we creating performing monkeys?

America needs its pioneers. America needs its free thinkers. America needs the risk takers who ask “Why Not?” and then forge ahead. We must be careful as we prepare the next generation. Let us foster imagination. Let us foster individuality. Let us be careful not try to force the square block through the round hole.

I urge America to be careful with standardization and teaching to the test. It has a part to play in education but should it be the primary driving force of American schools? I say no.

Would it hurt to let a student out of the corral? Would it hurt to spend a fraction of the school day on meaningful play and imagination? Would it destroy children’s futures if we let them hear music again? Would all be lost if students painted a picture or sang a song? Would the world stop turning if stuents were given time to be children again and play?

Space Center students, get involved in your education. Get up in the rigging and let the sails down. Take learning out of the harbor and into the unpredictable seas. Your journeys may be difficult but I promise they will be unforgettable. Do you feel the wind? Out there is your future. As an American teacher I say, “Let’s discover your future together”.

Space News Update. Phoenix Clinging to Life on Mars.

Taken from Space.com

NASA's Phoenix Mars Lander is clinging to life and communicating daily with mission controllers though its power supply is quickly diminishing. Phoenix has communicated with mission scientists everyday since Oct. 30, when the spacecraft suddenly went quiet after a drop in available power sent it into an inactive "safe mode." The spacecraft is now in its sixth month on the Martian surface - double its initial mission - since landing on the red planet's arctic plains on May 25. Phoenix has been scooping up samples of Martian dirt and the rock-hard, subsurface layer of water ice at its landing site and analyzing them for signs of past potential habitability.

Phoenix is nearing the end of its mission as the fraction of the day the sun spends above the horizon shrinks at its arctic landing site. Dust raised by a storm last week, which contributed to Phoenix's shutdown, continues to block some of the little sunlight reaching the spacecraft. Information received by NASA over the past weekend shows that Phoenix is running out of power each afternoon or evening, but reawakening after its solar arrays catch morning sunlight.

"This is exactly the scenario we expected for the mission's final phase, though the dust storm brought it a couple weeks sooner than we had hoped," said Phoenix Project Manager Barry Goldstein of NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL) in Pasadena, Calif. "We will be trying to gain some additional science during however many days we have left. Any day could be our last."

"Weather observations are our top priority now," said Phoenix Principal Investigator Peter Smith. "If there's enough energy, we will try to get readings from the conductivity probe that has been inserted into the soil, and possibly some images to assess frost buildup."

An Overnight Camp for our Frequent Flyers!

Hello Frequent Flyers!
We have reserved a special Overnight Camp just for our Frequent Flyers. It will be held on November 21st starting at 7:00 P.M. and ending Saturday morning at 10:00 A.M. The cost is $35.00 per person, a $5.00 savings off the normal price. It is open to any Frequent Flyer (age 10 to 14 of course). If you are not a Frequent Flyer and would like to be please have one of your parents send the Space Education Center an email requesting to be added to the Frequent Flyer list. The email should include a parent's name, your name, and the email address you'd like us to use.
We are running the following missions for the November 21st Overnight Camp:

Voyager: Greenpeace (The Corridor)
Magellan: Defender
Odyssey: Heir to the Empire
Phoenix: Intolerance
Galileo: Maximus (or Scorpion Relay)

This special overnight camp's purpose is to allow our Frequent Flyers to go on any mission they haven't done yet this year. If there is a mission you haven't done on this list then you may enroll. To enroll please send me an email with the following information:

Your Name:
Your Address:
Your Phone Number:
Your Age:
What Mission(s) would you like to do?
First Choice:
Second Choice:
Third Choice:

Be sure to list only missions you haven't done! If we can't put you in your first choice you'll get your second or third. If we don't get enough people for the simulator
it won't be run for the camp.
We will enroll you in the camp and pre-assign you to a simulator. We will send a return email confirmation with your Parent Permission Form attached. We will collect checks from you when you arrive on November 21 at 7:00 P.M.
Frequent Flyers are given opportunties to test new missions and fill overnight slots at a discount if school's do not fill their allocated positions. They are also given first notice of new missions and camps. Frequent Flyers are allowed to attend the Space Education Center's free Voyager Club to earn class hours for their rank.

Regards,
Mr. Williamson