News from the Space Center (With Some Side Distractions)

by Mr. Williamson

I’m tired today. I woke up too early and couldn’t go back to sleep. I reached for the TV Guide. A couple pages usually sends me back into unconsciousness. It didn’t work. I actually got through an article on Hannah Montana. Up until now I thought that was a small two horse Montana town a sneeze off Canada’s border. Kind of like Sidney Montana, the place I was born. Who ever heard of Sidney Montana? Its one of those towns you don’t mind saying ‘your from’. It automatically gives you some credit for attaining something in life even if you spend your days at an intersection holding a cup and poster saying “Save Yourself the next 5 minutes of Guilt and drop some Cash into the Cup!”.

Actually, If I had to live in Sidney today, I would consider joining the Peace Corps and accepting a position in Botswana, a nation in Africa right off the Coast of Despair. According to me, a very reliable source, the best thing to come out of Sidney was my family. When I was a toddler, just growing out of the cricket eating stage, my parents moved our trailer from Sidney to Spearfish, South Dakota. Would you like an analogy? Its like moving from a house with one bathroom to a house with two. No..... that isn’t quite correct. It is like moving to a house with two bathrooms AND a car port. This analogy can’t have a garage until I tell you about our move to Rapid City - but that is another story.

I learned how to crawl in Spearfish. I spent my days crawling around our trailer’s front door. I found I had an appetite for South Dakota dirt . That Montana stuff was too sandy for my liking and too hard on my toothless gums. I think I owe my current tolerance to almost any kind of food to those early, earth eating days.

I don’t remember living in that small trailer. I rely on my mother’s nostalgic memory for that. I’m told It was parked beside my grandparent’s garage, right off an alley lined with garbage cans and rusted bikes with flat tires. This is all great material for my future run for the White House. Everyone wishing to become President must have some kind of humble beginning. Abe Lincoln had his log cabin in the country and I have my Airstream trailer in the alley without a name. Most of time it was referred to as the place to “Toss it there, nobody will see”.

Now look...... I’m off track. You see what I mean when I tell you I’m tired today? What was I talking about? Hannah Montana? Let’s skip that and move on.

I want to write about the week’s happenings at the Space Center. I hope I have the time now that I’ve spewed several paragraphs about my childhood. I also must get back to my Mario Kart. I have a Wii. Yes, I’m a grown man with his own Wii. Come on, a guy has to have some fun in life! Wow, what a game system.

The last system I owned was a Pong system my grandmother bought me from Kmart in the 1970’s. It was unbelievable. There was this ball that moved from side to side on your TV screen. The object of the game was to hit the ball to the other side of the TV with your sliding controller. It was amazing! Our home became the primary source of after school entertainment for most of the kids in the neighborhood. We played Pong morning, noon, and night nonstop for about two days. After two days, something about the game became annoying. On the third day it was shoved under the TV. On the fourth day we forgot we owned it. We were back on our bikes, spending the afternoons at the dirt hills having dirt clod fights with the kids from the neighborhood.

Dirt clods can hurt - especially when thrown at close range by the star of the Little League team. Screams and tears would flow when dirt clods and heads came together at great speeds. The injured would jump on thier bikes and rushed home to mother. Most moms back then would look at the growing lump on the side your head, clean the blood away and ask if you were “Stupid, or something?”. Once cleaned up it was back to the dirt hills. You fought to the last kid standing - or until you got called home for supper.

OK..... I went off again.
Let’s get this done quickly. We did really well at the Space Center this last week. Spenser R. ripped the walls out of the Captain’s Quarters because of mold from the leaking roof (don’t get me started on that story).

The training by MP3 is getting better. I’m past wanting to flush them down the toilet. They have some use. We got new chairs for the Phoenix and Odyssey. The other ones were falling apart. They look cool. Alex A. is getting close to finishing the Phoenix controls. He has time to program and chat with the female staff now. I warned him about writing code and talking to girls. Not a good combination if you want to write error free code. Kids from all over Utah visited the Center this last week. Some kids came from as far away as Cedar City. We had a small overnight camp. Only 28 kids from Sego Lily. It was nice running a camp with small numbers. It almost seems like your not working at all. Bracken fixed the nozzle on the Voyager’s smoke machine. Before, most of the smoke intended for the Bridge ended up in the Control Room. Now, according to Bridger, the Left Wing kids disappear in the fog. You know they’re there because of the coughing and gasping - you can’t see them but you can hear them!
Wow, I got it all in. I think I’ll get back to my Mario Kart for the Wii.

I’m playing online now. A few hours ago I was up against kids from Japan, Germany, and France. I give them grief..... not because I win all the time - I wish. I cause them grief because I’m always in last place and Mario Kart gives the guy in last place the Dreaded Spiked Shell that speeds ahead when released, hunting down and attacking the character in first place. I Love IT.

Take Care and I’ll see you all at the Center!
Mr. Williamson

My Day on Crosswalk Duty

by Mr. Williamson
Director

Every morning at 8:45 A.M. I leave the emails, accounts, simulators, and other Space Education Center issues to put on my “pumpkin suit”, - a florescent orange with pee yellow stripes safety vest. Another ‘hat’ I wear, that you may not be aware of, is that of a crossing guard. Every morning for eight years, I’ve welcomed the students of Central Elementary School at the corner of 100 East and 400 North. I sometimes stand and sometimes pace back and forth at the crosswalk trying to pass the 20 minutes with “Good mornings” to the students as they walk by and a few jolly waves at the cars. I’m not one who initiates the wave but I’ll always return one.
I get to see the seasons change over my 180 days on the street. I bake in the summer and freeze in the winter. Some days I hide from the Arctic wind behind my red and white umbrella. Other days it is hard to see the cars through the blowing snow. I’ve come very close to planting my face into the street because of icy roads - saved only by an entertaining step dance accompanied by frailing arms followed by an embarrassed expression and laughing children.
I volunteer for this morning responsibility. It is a gift to the teachers of Central School. Without having to do morning duty they can spend more time in their classrooms preparing lessons. I benefit as well. Without duty I would never leave the darkness of the cloistered world of a Space Center Director.
One morning last week, I had the job of greeting a new student to Central. My usuals had crossed and moved toward the building;
The three buddies - three third grade boys inseparable in friendship. They run down the hill hiding behind telephone poles and street signs. They call it the car game. You run when there are no cars and hide when you see one. Don’t worry if you don’t get it - it is a third grade thing.
Then there are the younglings - a kindergarten and second grade brother and sister who always have something from the dollar store to show me. I do my best to have an amazing comment for each treasure. Sometimes all they get is a ‘Interesting’, like last Tuesday when she showed me a dinosaur with a missing left leg. “Cheap Chinese rubbish,” I said. She didn’t understand so I said “Interesting”.
‘Silence’ is the girl that never responds to anything I say. She crosses stone faced. I know she is a Vulcan. She does a good job hiding her pointed ears but you can’t fool an old Star Trek fan.
My entire reason for living has changed from turning the Space Center into an international franchise into getting her to laugh. Start with big dreams but learn to accept small victories. The “Pack” is the gaggle of sixth grade girls that walk slowly down the hill. The reason for this crawl is to arrive just as the bell rings to avoid an additional two to three minutes of class time. They are my kind of people! Why spend more time in purgatory then required ;)
I can’t forget the “Sprinters”. They try to beat me to the crosswalk in the morning. They move slowly toward the crosswalk - watching for me to exit the school's doors. Suddenly I come into view. Their little legs sprint into action to beat me to the crosswalk . I let them win from time to time. I enjoy seeing their smiles extend from ear to ear.
One day last week, a different car pulled up on the opposite side of the street. A lady I didn't recognize, accompanied by a young girl, stepped from the car. I walked out into the empty street and belted out my usual "Good Morning". The lady smiled and responded with the usual reply. The little girl hesitated while looking me over carefully. She gave a smile that had that ‘Stranger Danger’ feel.
“It’s her first day here at Central,” the mom said.
“You’re new to our school?” I responded by bending over to speak directly to the girl.
“Yes,” she replied.
They walked onto the sidewalk and started toward the school. I turned back to the street and found my Vulcan approaching. I started thinking of something clever to say when I felt a tugging at my pant leg. I looked down and saw Central’s newest kindergartner looking up at me with big brown eyes.
“Iths my firtht day at thchool!” she said with excitement. I looked up at her mom. She was smiling.
“Well, we are glad your here with us. You’ll love your new teacher,” I said in the sing song voice one uses with children.
“I’m five,” she continued completely oblivious to my last statement. At that, she released my leg and ran back to her mother. Hand in hand they entered the school.
It was a simple exchange of words but the meaning was profound. This young girl was embarking on a journey in life that would take years to complete. Pure excitement was reflected in her eyes. She loved being at school.
I thought how wonderful it would be if we could bottle that excitement and use it as the primary ingredient in the school lunch program. What a difference it would make.
Just then the Vulcan stepped up on the curb and passed me without a word. Her look was one of complete indifference. What had happened to her from kindergarten to whatever grade she was in? One day I’ll get her to laugh. There is nothing else that matters now. That which was - must be restored again! I am the Spirit of Education! I will find the lost and abandoned. I will recharge the lifeless and bring a spark back to imaginations in atrophy!
Or....... I’ll take off my pumpkin suit and go back to emails, accounts, phone calls, and the simulators.
Or...........
Isn’t it great to have the ability and opportunity to make a difference? I’ll choose to make a difference.
That little girl created a memory that will help me work through the tough days.

Space Center News Update

By Mr. Williamson
Director
The Space Center will return to business as usual on Monday. I enjoyed my Spring Break. I slept in most days to 6:30 A.M. which is unusual. I’m developing some pretty strange habits when I haven’t got one thousand things to accomplish in a day. Having a Friday evening off was something to be worshipped. At 7:00 P.M. on Friday I looked at the clock. I knew exactly where I would normally be at the start of an overnight camp. I would be sitting at the Sign In Table asking 45 students if their names were spelled correctly.
“Yes,” would be the normal response.
“Are you staying here tonight or going home?” would be my next question. Some campers don’t understand that question. I get that ‘are you stupid’ look. They are thinking that if this is an overnight camp why would you be asking that question? I don’t want to take the time to explain that some children go home to sleep.
“Are you staying here tonight or going home?” I ask again.
“Staying here,” is the normal response once they’ve put away the ‘I don’t understand’ look.
I find their names and check them off the list. “Take this set of rules and read them. When you finish return the paper to the desk. Keep your rank paper, You’ll be asked for it later. You can have a seat over there,” I say pointing to the stage steps. The campers rush to the steps to unite with their friends.
At 9:00 P.M. on Friday I looked at the clock once more. Normally my security walk would be finished by that time. I enjoy my walk around the school. The evening air is fresh and its quiet. The school is, for the most part, locked up tight. Occasionally I’ll find one of the trailer doors unlocked.
Most of the simulators would be well into their missions by 9:00 P.M. I take a minute at 9:00 P.M. and check the Magellan and Voyager to see if they have started. I want all simulators in flight by 9:00 P.M. and the Magellan and Voyager always push that rule. Sometimes their missions briefings go too long. Sometimes the kids took too long to train. Last Friday I was in bed at 10:30 P.M. During a camp I’d be still at my desk working at 10:30 P.M. At 11:00 P.M. I meet with the kids again and give them their snack.
At 11:30 P.M. I’m assigning the boys a place to sleep either in the Voyager or on the cots in the gym. I’m explaining the overnight rules. I’m showing them the fire exits. I reminding them where I sleep (on a pad on the floor in front of my desk in the Briefing Room) in case they need to find me during the night. I explain again where their two chaperons can be found in case of trouble. I request their help - explaining that if they let us sleep we will do a better job running the simulators for them in the morning. I’m turning down the lights at 11:40 P.M. Most of the time the boys will be good and go to bed.
At midnight I tell the staff to go to bed. The female staff go to their sleeping zone (or go home). The male staff usually sleep in the Odyssey or in the Magellan (or go home). I monitor the hallways for 20 minutes or so as the staff ready for bed. By 12:30 A.M. the halls of the school are empty. I go to my desk and collapse on my pad. I sleep lightly so I can respond to trouble. Some boys will bypass the chaperons and come to me if they’re sick, or have thrown up, or are homesick. Some wake me wondering where the school’s bathrooms are.
I’m up at 6:00 A.M. to clean up. Sometimes I need to make a quick trip to WalMart to pick up the donuts for breakfast. I get the staff up at 6:40 A.M. We have our Saturday Morning Staff Meeting at 7;00 A.M. and at 7:15 A.M. we wake the kids up.
You see how much I enjoyed my Friday night off!? It was awesome going to bed at 10:30 A.M. and sleeping in on Saturday morning.

We’ve Gone Digital!

I want to thank Sheila Powell, a teacher at the Space Center, for taking the Magellan, Voyager, and Odyssey’s training tapes home over the vacation to digitize them and burn them to CD. I’m moving our simulators from cassette tape training to CD or Mp3.
The Phoenix is currently training by Mp3 player. On Monday we open with most of the Voyager’s stations on Mp3 training. The Mp3 players are tricking to turn on. They don’t rewind so if the student misses something he must stop the player, raise his hand, and have us help.
It was revolutionary when we went from hand training to tape training fifteen years ago.
This next step will be more time saving then revolutionary. No more rewinding the tapes.
No more having tape players eat the tapes. No more using your finger to wind a tape that the machine nicely unwound for you. No more dealing with the cheap tape players.
Campers, look forward to digital training for your next visit to the Space Center.

Maintenance Update

Megan Warner gave up a large part of her Spring Break to work on the Phoenix. She came in and took apart the Phoenix’s bridge to deep clean and paint. Megan sets the example for all Set Directors on the proper way to care for a simulator.
Spenser R. has been hired as the Space Center’s Asst. Director of Maintenance. He will work with Kyle Herring’s direction. Spenser spent several hours tearing out the bunks in the Captain’s Quarters. The Voyager’s ceiling sprung a leak during the winter. Each time the snow melted the water would leak into the Captain’s Quarters. The ceiling and one wall was damaged. The roof was repaired a month ago.
Spenser found mold on the sheet rock when he checked the way last week - a result from getting soaked by the leaking roof. I ordered the wall and a part of the ceiling torn out and rebuilt. I don’t want a camper to have an asthma attack because of mold growing on the opposite side of a sleeping wall. Giving our campers and students a safe and clean environment is one of the Space Education Center’s primary goals.

Programming Update

Alex A, the Space Education Center's boy genius, was in during the Spring Break to work on the new Phoenix ship controls. He is getting close to the finish line. He promises the controls will be ready for beta testing in May and full deployment for the first summer camps. Thanks Alex for going the extra mile.


Let’s Get to Work


OK troops, the vacation is over. We have thousands of students and campers ready and waiting to come to the Center for their field trips, birthday parties, and camps. Let’s get back to work rested and excited to give them the best experience possible.
We are the only place in the world that does what we do. That can, at times, be a hindrance. Without competition there is no external source to motivate us to do a better job. To improve we must motivate ourselves. We must maintain and strengthen what we do right and change and adapt to fix what doesn’t work.
Self motivation requires more mental fuel than motivation from an outside source. Staff, remember coming to the Center when you were younger. Do you remember the excitement? Now, recreate that for the students coming to you.

Thanks to all,
Mr. Williamson