Our Day Off and New Space Center Awards Given

Hello Troops,

The Space Center closed today at 11:30 A.M.  I practically had to push the staff and volunteers out of the building and into the sunlight.

"Please don't make us go out there!" they pleaded.  "Its so bright and hot.  What are we suppose to do?"

I bellowed back using my most sinister laugh.  I rubbed my hands together and pushed all the harder.  Connor L., fell to the floor in a failed attempt to barricade the school's front door.  Others clung to the new benches (the scratches in the wood will be noticed by Dr. Carter when she comes in to work tomorrow).  Rich S., tried to disappear by squeezing between the aquarium and the brick wall.  It didn't work.  He easily popped out when I applied enough pull to his belt.

 I expected one or two would make a run for it down the dark hall, and I wasn't disapponted.  Morgan saw her chance when Connor hit the deck.  She sprinted for the cafeteria.  I removed the 5 pound key chain from my pant's pocket, spun it round and round over my head like a sling (think David and Goliath) and released it.  The keys flew through the air like a missle, striking Morgan at the base of her neck.  She went down hard, bouncing once or twice before coming to a dead stop near the Faculty Room door.  I sent Megan down to tend to her wounds with the Voyager's medical kit.  Morgan was back on her wobbly feet a few Skittles and one gummy watermelon later;  mind you, she didn't know where she was at first, but the disorientation went away after sleeping the concussion off under the large tree in the school's front lawn.

I had to use the business end of a broom to push the staff and volunteers out the door so I could shut and lock it.  What I saw next could have been taken from the opening scene of a Zombie Apocalypse movie.  They pressed their faces against the glass begging to be let in.  Some were bleeding from the brute force I applied to get them outside.

Logan P.,  calmed everyone down.

"Its OK.  We can do this," I heard him say through the double glass.  "The sun is our friend."
He took a few baby steps to the demarcation line separating the school's shadow from the brilliantly lit sidewalk.

"Don't do it!" Mark pleaded as he pulled on Logan's arm.  Logan shook him away.

"Stand back."  Logan hesitated for a moment, then stepped into the sunlight.

The fire started on his left ankle.  His pants instantly combusted.  The whole scene reminded me of the Zeppelin Hindenburg igniting into flames as it tired to moor in New Jersey in the late 1930's.  Logan's scream rattled the front door's glass.  He ran burning onto the school's front lawn.

"Drop and roll!"  Bradyn shouted from the safety of the shadowed area.  Logan fell to the lawn and rolled several times.  The fire went out.  Logan found shelter to tend to his wounds in the shadow of the front tree.  I couldn't watch any longer.  I gathered my things and exited the building through the south doors.

"Mr. Williamson.  Mr. Williamson.  Don't leave us!" the staff and volunteers shouted pathetically when they saw me climb into the Battlestar.  I pretended not to hear and set a course home.  I went the long way so I wouldn't have to drive by them.  I'm hoping Logan will be OK.

Why the down day?  I wanted the staff and volunteers to enjoy Pioneer Day with family and friends.  Tomorrow we will be back to work running the season's last Day Camp.  Perhaps you're on the Day Camp?  If so, I guarantee you'll have a blast (providing enough of the staff and volunteers got home safely today).

And now, the latest news from the Space Center as we honor some of our own.  

Devin was happy to present the Odyssey Pin to Addie.  Addie finished her two Odyssey simulator passes and asked me for her pin.  I told her she might have to wait.  After all,  there are only so many hours in a day.  I can't be expected to make everyone's wishes come true at the drop of a hat.   Addie understood what I was really saying and return with a bit of cash.  Cash is a wonderful lubricating agent.  She got her pin and I got enough to enjoy a nice All American Burger at JCW's in American Fork (you can see me counting my 'tip' in the background).  

Congratulations Addie on your Achievement!
 

Megan L., earned her year pin during the same meeting.  Congratulations Megan!

Mark S., earned his year pin during the same meeting.

Neither Mark nor Megan needed to provide 'motivation'.

Addie's donation to the cause was more than enough to adjust my mood in the

generous direction.

Congratulations Mark!

"Mr. Daymont, did I earn my Phoenix pin?" Mark asked after his eleventh attempt at passing off Phoenix Second Chair.

"You did good," Dave said using his New York gangster accent.  "Was it pass worthy good?  Ah..... that's the question."

"You said I did everything right." 

"Did I.....?"  Dave scratched his goatee, looking confused.

"You did."

"I'm having trouble remembering.  I got so much on my mind.  The misses wants to go to the pictures tonight and I'm a bit skint on cash - if you know what I'm sayin."  

Mark got his pin as seen in the photo above.

Dave and his Misses went to the pictures, with enough money left over for popcorn and a drink to share between the two of them.

And Again... Congratulations Mark!

Lauren L., challenged Ben to a hand squeezing competition to help him decide whether or not to give her a Galileo Pin for her outstanding work in the Galileo. 

Ben nearly went to the floor seven seconds into the contest.  He capitulated at 10.  Lauren got her pin and Ben got several bruises and has trouble writing his name.

Congratulations Lauren!

The Tale of Two Blue Shirts 

Once upon a time there were two boys.  One was called Scott and the other was called Connor. They both worked for an evil taskmaster named Williamson.

"Mr. Williamson." Scott approached his employer timidly with eyes cast to the floor.
"Speak Lad!" Williamson shouted, rattling the globe of the one kerosene lamp illuminating the counting house office.
"I've finished what you said and earned my Supervisor Shirt."  Scott gulped and tried to breath normally.
"And you shall have it," Williamson answered ever so softly.  His eyes sparked with delight.

"Mr. Williamson." Connor approached his employer timidly.  His eyes were also cast to the floor.
"Speak Boy!" Williamson shouted, shattering the globe of the one kerosene lamp illuminating the counting house office.
"I've finished what you said and earned my Supervisor Shirt."  Connor gulped and tried to breath normally.
"And you shall have it," Williamson answered, rubbing his chin with the two inch yellow cracked nail growing from his right index finger.  "You shall have it."

Nicole and Jon presented Scott a new over sized blue shirt.  It was far too big.

"WEAR IT!" Williamson bellowed from the back of the room.  

"Its too big?" Scott tried to show him.

"Wear it," Williamson answered.  "NEXT!"

(Good job Scott.  Job well done.  You earned that Blue Shirt!) 

  

Connor walked to the front of the room to receive his Supervisor's shirt.  Jon pulled out a purple shirt.

Connor was confused.  "This is purple," Connor whispered in Jon's ear.  "Supervisors wear blue."

"THE SHIRT IS BLUE!" Williamson bellowed from the back.

"Sir, I think its purple."  Connor mustered all the courage he could for a 14 year old.

"Jon, is the shirt blue or purple?" Williamson asked his clerk while tapping his two inch nail on the table top.

Jon hesitated.  Correcting his employer was dangerous. 

"Purple or blue Jon.  Which is it?"  Williamson grew impatient.  "Will one be working tomorrow, or will one be lost in the crowd of so many looking for meaningful employment?"

"Blue.  The shirt is blue," Jon said.  Connor pulled a smile from his back pocket and wore it bravely for the picture.

(Sorry Connor for not having a Blue Shirt on hand for you.  Congratulations!  I'll get more Blue Shirts in soon so you can swap the Purple for Blue and be a real Supervisor :)