My selfishness and unwillingness to share, topics apparently I never passed in primary school, were evident last night as I chaperoned the last night of the 48 hour camp. Probably because the Discovery Space Center's airbeds are not designed to be used as trampolines or to replace rolls of fat for serious camper sumo wrestling contests, they get small punctures and deflate over the course of an evening. That was the situation at bedtime last night. There were not enough air beds for the campers. "What do we do?" both Scott and Todd wondered. "Casey says to inflate the ones with holes and hope they'll make it through the night cause its too late to make a WalMart trip," Scott explained.
I answered by teaching the DSC staff an important lesson on customer care. "Give the campers your [meaning the staff's] mattresses and the staff should take the risk with the unfaithful airbeds." Their facial reactions spoke louder than any words they stammered to verbalize. My suggestion was their command. The staff gave up their nice mattresses. Scott and Todd reappeared moments later and stood beside me as I lounged in luxurious decadence on my three pads.
"We don't have enough pads," Scott reported.
"And?" I questioned knowing full well what he was about to suggest and not liking it one bit.
"We need one of yours." I must give credit to Scott for having the guts to ask for one of MY three pads which make sleeping on the floor as close to a five star experience as one can get at the DSC.
"You want one of my pads?" I repeated to drive home the point. I used my gravelly voice for effect.
Todd chimed in with an entirely unwelcomed observation. "You're like three stories high on those. Losing one won't hurt."
I knew the battle was lost. I knew instead of the Ritz, I was about to be reduced to Motel 6 sleeping experience. I mumbled something about their timing and added something about their upbringing before surrendering one pad. They both thanked me and skipped off thoroughly pleased with themselves for what they had done.
Let it be known through the land of simulators that Mr. Williamson did his duty and made the ultimate sacrifice. Just never let it happen again.......
Mr. W.
News from the CMSEC
Many of our long time staff and volunteers know Marissa Burkett seen above at the Magellan Flight Director's station. Marissa is at top volunteer who has earned the right to start training as a flight director. Notice how high she sits. Apparently, considering it was her first time at microphone, she hadn't earned the right - nay I say privilege - to occupy the real Magellan Flight Director's chair.
"You'll sit on a stool," Nicole must have said. I say "must have said" because I wasn't there to hear the real reason why Marissa was on the stool and was too uninterested to ask. My plausible explanation will suffice. New Farpoint Cadet Joseph is seen working the lights. Except for flipping on the white lights during a shipwide red alert, he did a pretty good job.
Jon, Ryan, Matt, Megan, and an unknown are pictured in the Magellan control room after the mission. It was time for another test run of the Magellan's new cocoa controls. There are rumors the Magellan may use the new controls on next week's camps.
Oops, what happened here? Either Space Center Director James Porter was caught showing us where he keeps his secret stash of phasers, or James is being shown a piece of Magellan diamond plating which has disconnected itself with the floor. James was quick to pick up on the seriousness of the situation.
"This is broken," he reported to Magellan Set Director Nicole VandenBoss.
"I agree," she replied.
"I'm guessing the screws have come loose?"
"I agree."
"Something should be done about this because if someone steps on this it could come off and cause that person to fall."
"I agree."
"Let's think about this for a moment."
And Nicole answered, "I agree."
I grew bored and went on a quest for something more interesting.
It's all go at the Christa McAuliffe Space Education Center.
"I agree," Nicole wanted me to add.
Mr. W.
The Imaginarium
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