Contact Victor Williamson with your questions about simulator based experiential education programs for your school.
SpaceCampUtah@gmail.com
Sunday, February 22, 2009
This Week in Review Plus: Things You'll Never Hear Spoken at the Space Center
Hello Troops,
This is the last week of February. The call for March volunteering is out. Staff and volunteers, please send your requests back to me as soon as possible.
We had a good week for the most part. There was a glitch with the Odyssey’s Junior Simulator Controls. I suppose it was more than a glitch. They wouldn’t work at all. I should have described it as a cascade failure. I don’t know exactly why the word ‘cascade’ seems to make the word failure more horrible than it is but it does, don’t you agree? Christine was the Flight Director. She continued merrily (as Christine always does) and had two staff in the simulator calling out what the youngsters were doing so she could make the correct effects. If you work here long enough you soon learn the skill of dealing with no network. Your bridge officer says something like, “Oh look at that, you went to WARP 3 so well. I liked the way you clicked on that button. Such skill and wrist action. Good for you for taking the ship to WARP 3.” Of course if you’re working with an older group they give you a look of disbelief when you talk like that. I’m sure they think the Space Center is a place like Deseret Industries - you know - offering employment to special people.
On Wednesday I asked Alex A. to revise the Junior Controls so they are at best reliable and at worst semi reliable. He agreed. Results are forthcoming, which will make every Odyssey Flight Director happy, especially Aleta our Junior Flight Specialist. “Look at Aleta, She is Happy. Happy is Aleta. Good Job Aleta being so Happy!” OK , I’ll stop now and move on.
On Friday I had a real treat. I watched Saint Sheila of Lehi play football with a group of our young third graders before the 9:00 A.M. bell rang. You’re wondering why that would be considered a real treat? What if I told you she was wearing her Star Trek Uniform. Oddly funny is a better way to describe it. Every one of her throws wobbled to the point of almost being non-aerodynamic but they traveled far enough to get caught. Sheila kept apologizing for “Throwing like a girl”. The boys didn’t mind. Kids like a teacher’s attention, even if she is wearing a Star Trek uniform and standing on the school’s front lawn at the busiest time of the morning so every car pulling up to the school gets a full vision of life at Central Elementary. Yep.......... you got it. Of course I don’t know what is the stranger sight, Sheila in her Star Trek uniform or me in my bright Florescent orange pumpkin suit (Crossing Guard vest) complete with Space Center emblem?
We had Honor’s Night on Thursday evening in the Discovery Room. Not a very big turn out. That was OK by me - all the more cake for those of us that attended. Many of our staff and volunteers were awarded their 1 and 5 year service pins. Others received their pillowcases and blankets. And others got their simulator pins for passing off the stations. We have pins for every simulator. You wear the ship pin on your lanyard if you have its passes. Patrons may purchase the pins in the gift shop. A special thanks to Dave Daymont for his work on pin design. Dave says others helped, Stacy for instance, but I don’t know who all of them are so I’ll say thanks to all of you in a generic sort of way. Thanks.
We watched Megan’s slide show at the end of the evening. I’d never seen it and was impressed. Megan did a great job. If you’ve not seen it ask to see it. I think we will show it at all gatherings
Did you know there are some things you will never hear at the Space Center? Here are some examples only our employees and volunteers will appreciate. All others reading this post can go to sleep, browse elsewhere, get up for a drink, use the toilet or just go to bed.
THINGS YOU’LL NEVER HEAR SPOKEN AT THE SPACE CENTER IN A MILLION BILLION YEARS.
Mark Daymont: "We're going to do a different mission today in the Magellan. No Death Trap
today!"
Bill Schuler: “That was a great story on first reading. No further editing is required. Your story is good to be told. What skill, what writing. You are a credit to your family and nation. A new Ernest Hemmingway.”
Dave Daymont: “Thank you for calling me at the last second and asking me to take another Phoenix mission. I had plans to do something else but last minute missions are my specialty. Golly I’m lucky.”
Mr. Williamson: “If you’re going to Harts please pick me up a bottled water. One must watch one’s health. Don’t you agree?”
Aleta Clegg: “Perikoi is my best mission. I’m so excited when I get to tell it to our visiting sixth grade classes.”
Lorraine Houston: “I brought a cake from WalMart’s bakery. They are so much better than anything I can do at home. You know me in the kitchen - all thumbs I’m afraid. Well, thumbs and a bit of blood if you let me near the knifes.”
Metta Smith: “Please leave those shirts untucked. I mean right now! Don’t you make me come over there and untuck it for you. Listen all of you, you’ll get the sharp edge of my tongue if you don’t listen to me.”
Megan Warner: “ Please lean back in the chairs. Please leave your personal belongings in my Control Room and Briefing Room.”
Megan Warner: “Hello Children, this is our transporter room. Aren’t we excited? I can see it in your eyes you little darling. Now, we are all going to go into this room and wait for the transporter sound. You will be magically transported to the Phoenix waiting for you way up there in the sky. Also, be sure to touch the walls when you go in. There will be a shock but well worth the experience. Everyone in. Isn’t this fun? Are we all ready? “
Bradyn Lystrup: “Shadows is my mission. I own Shadows. I’ve always owned Shadows. Did I mention it was MY mission. Yes, I’m all that and more.”
Kyle Herring: “OK, I finished everything on the repair list. The Space Center is in tip top shape."
Christine G: “I’m so depressed. Nothing works right. I can’t get through this. Oh the humanity. I’m going to lay down right here on the control room floor and sleep. I can’t cope. I can’t go on.”
Rachel H: “Me too”
Stacy Carroll: “I know I’m early to work. It shouldn’t surprise you. I’m what’s known as a morning person. I thrive in the morning. I’m awake before dawn busy as a bee.”
Sheila Powell: “I’ve never met a child I didn’t like. Children are angels. If they are disrespectful in class its my fault. I must not be doing the right things to entertain them. Children can’t be expected to show self control. Its not in their nature.”
Bill Schuler: “Please let me offer you my work space here in the Briefing Room. I’m working at the school today but see you need a place to work yourself. I’m perfectly willing to work right here beside you on the floor. I only need a little corner and access to electricity.
If there is anything else I can do to make you more comfortable at my desk please don’t hesitate to ask.”
Kyle Herring: “I’m changing my hair style to something more natural for my age. I think I’m going for a Victor Williamson hair cut. It has worked well for him for the last 50 years so learn from the best - that’s what I always say.”
Victor Williamson: “Wasn’t that fun having me spend the entire overnight camp in your ship watching you fly. I learned so much. This week I plan on spending all my free time in the simulators watching mission after mission after mission. I just can’t get enough. Hey everybody, let’s get together and discuss your mission ideas as well.”
Warren N.: “Socialism is the only real form of government. The government has a responsibility to care for the weak and lazy. We all need a rock solid safety net under us for hard times.”
Kyle Herring: “Ditto”
Jace (Central): ‘silence’
Brock B: “Mr. Williamson, I’d love to spend more time in the Magellan but you keep putting me in the Voyager. Please can I get to do what I want to do sometime?”
Spencer M: “I’m nothing. I worthless. I’m the worst player on my church ball team. I don’t know why they put up with me. If I could only make one basket. Oh what’s the use?”
Spenser D: “I really enjoy all the kids you send into the Voyager to work with me. They are so full of life and energy. It makes my day to get to train them how to do the acting parts. I get a kick out of the cute things they say. Oh, and if they refuse to do what I say as Supervisor, I’ll forgive them because, after all, they are just kids. We can’t expect them to accept responsibility and the value of a job well done, can we?”
Mr. Williamson: “The best part of my job is dealing with personality issues. I love to mediate conflict between staff and volunteers. I thrive on staff misunderstandings. I get a kick out of ironing out the petty issues that arise from any organization staffed with multiple humans.”
Yes my friends, those are things you’ll never, ever hear spoken at the Space Center.
Now let’s have a great week at school, at work, and at home. Remember, the Space Center is a home to all of us. Let’s work hard to help it achieve its potential and an influence for good and learning not only for the students but our staff and volunteers as well.
Mr. Williamson
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Odyssey's New Pin
Hello Troops,
This is the new pin designed by Dave Daymont with input from several other staff that happened to be passing the computer when he unveiled it to the universe. It arrived just in time for Honor's Night, held last Thursday. The package came from China. I got its tracking number from the Internet and had a semi enjoyable time watching it make the hop skip and jump from China to Hong Kong to Alaska to Seattle to Salt Lake and then finally Pleasant Grove. All in two days (and they say faster than light speed travel is impossible. NASA isn't consulting the right people. I say bring UPS on board. They'll show you how to get things delivered quickly. If NASA can get a probe to Mars in less than a years time UPS should be able to do it in a week. Remember, Brown can do it!)
Odyssey's Set Director is Emily Perry. She has a team of flight directors that do an excellent job keeping the Space Center's busiest simulator in tip top shape.
The Odyssey pin is available for sale in our small gift corner located in the Discover Room. Buy a pin and make Emily and her staff smile. Buy two pins and you get a hand shake and a two minute audience. Three pins and you've made friends for life!
Mr. Williamson
Friday, February 20, 2009
Weighed, Measured, and Found Wanting
Hello Troops,
This is a Blast Post from the Past. For many years I posted updates, news and comment on the Space Center's YahooGroup. Now we have this blog. I've decided to repost some of our YahooGroup's posts to the Blog for safe keeping. This is a post I wrote on September 2, 2007.
Background: That week in September I decided to scrap our problematic Phoenix simulator controls and install the Odyssey's simulator's controls in their place. The Odyssey's controls were stable and reliable. I felt it would make life easier for everyone and bring a sense of uniformity to the Center.
The reaction I got to my decision was quick and severe from many staff and volunteers. That reaction forced me to rethink my decision. In the end I relented and the Phoenix was given new controls programmed by Alex A.
This post was written at the height of the conflict when it looked like a lynching was in my immediate future. It was my way to attempt to bring a bit of humor into a tense situation.
Mr. Williamson
And now, a Blast Post from the Past. September 2, 2007
It was rather chilly at the Space Center. The temperature at my desk was a good ten degrees lower than the rest of the room. It wasn't an atmospheric abnormality
that caused the difference but rather a human generated Arctic breeze, like a cold
front from Canada, powered by the bitter looks and icy purpose from many of the staff pushed in my direction by the toss of a head or the glance of an eye half covered with a dropped eyebrow. Accompanying the evil eye was a wrinkled nose associated with a putrid smell.
Lately I've been afraid to leave the safety of my extended desk. It was my fortress of solitude. I sat at my chair wearing my winter coat and double stitched long johns. I would watch for a drop in traffic to make a dash for the toilet or quench my thirst with an icy cola from the faculty room.
Friday afternoon I saw a chance to escape. It happened before the overnight camp. I moved from my desk toward the door. I took all precautions before making my move. I looked both directions and saw the coast was clear. I got down on all fours and put my ear to the carpet to listen for approaching footfalls. I heard nothing but found a quarter and two M&M's. They were quickly ingested to quiet a stomach left untended for several hours. I stood up, reached for the "Enforcer" and walked to the edge of the desk . I licked my finger and held it over my head to detect an approaching cold front - Nothing. I moved. I moved around the desk and raced for the Briefing Room's Door. I made the corner around the Phoenix and felt the air chill to the point my breath was visible. In the doorway stood Megan and Alex. They were backed by Dave, Stacy, Matt, and what appeared to be a mob of smaller humans all wearing black t-shirts with anchors on their back.
"Going somewhere?" Megan asked. The smile was penetratingly cold. I was still. My first instinct was to retreat to my desk. I began moving backward but stopped when I felt the chill rotate to my back indicating my escape was blocked by a human glacier.
"Get Him," she shouted. Alex moved quickly diving forward and taking me down with a thud. The back of my head hit the carpeted floor knocking several of my senses loose thus causing the temporary loss of movement in my arms and legs.
"Bring Him," was the next thing I heard half dazed from the trauma. I was half carried and half pushed down the hall to Discovery.
"Put him in the docket," I heard Dave say. My head was clearing. I was able to make
out my surroundings. It was the Discovery Room - but different. I was led to a roped off area. At the front of the room I saw a large statue of a blindfolded woman holding scales in her outstretched hand and a sword in the other. Along the far wall, half
obscured by darkness, sat a jury of twelve staff and volunteers. I was placed in the
defendants box, guarded by two members of the Programming Guild armed with phasers. Discovery's door closed behind me with a bang. There was mumbling. Heads turned from me - toward the front of the room and back to me. One person walked toward the cage. It was Mr. Mark Daymont wearing black legal robes. The white wig of an English Barrister rested awkwardly on his head. I leaned forward to tell him to take the stupid thing off but was cut off when he placed a finger to his mouth motioning that I should remain quiet.
"I'm your defense attorney," he whispered.
"Nice wig," I replied forgetting his admonition to stay quiet.
"Get Serious," he said sternly looking around the room as if trying to find a sympathetic face. "You are in a lot of trouble and I don't know If I can get you out of it. Luckily my brother is one of the judges."
"Its about the new Odyssey controls being installed in the Phoenix isn't it," I said,
already knowing the answer to my own question. He looked at me as if I were stupid and nodded his head. "I knew I should of consulted the Phoenix staff and others but
..." he stopped me from continuing.
"That `but' you were about to add, will be your defense and possibly save you from Madam Guillotine," he moved from my cage, took two steps forward, and sat at one of the tables reserved for the defense. I peered across the dimly lit room trying to
recognize the prosecutor. It was a female. It was Megan! Her table was covered by Space Center Law books, legal pads, and pens. She was surrounded by well wishers. The looks on their faces provided the meaning to the words I saw them speaking but couldn't hear because of the distance. At that moment I fully realized how my decision to replace the Phoenix Controls with Odyssey Controls had upset so many people.
I noticed that my defense table was empty except for Mr. Daymont pouring over copious notes while shaking his head as if in pain. The head motion was accompanied by an occasional hissing sound as he took in air through clenched teeth.
The room grew quiet. The hour had arrived. I felt I had made the right decision but
executed it poorly. Now it was time to pay the piper. Would the staff let me keep my head or was this it. A sound was heard outside. It was he sound of wood sliding
across wood and then a loud CHOP followed by a pause then repeated two or three more times. The `Madam' was being prepared. A few minutes later Discovery's door opened. In walked two of our new volunteers each wearing red armbands. They held trays of newly cut watermelon.
Dave Daymont, the head judge, nodded his head giving them permission to pass the fruit out to the spectators. My heart sank as Mr Daymont's head dropped to the table amidst the sound of slurping.
"This is good. Look very few seeds," Kyle Herring said as he studied his slice.There were a few grunts of agreement from those around him.
"Sometimes the best of intentions can go wrong," I thought. I leaned back in my seat
thinking what I would say in my defense. My thought was interrupted by the sound of the gavel. Everyone sat up and faced the front. The trial of the century was about
to start.
This is a Blast Post from the Past. For many years I posted updates, news and comment on the Space Center's YahooGroup. Now we have this blog. I've decided to repost some of our YahooGroup's posts to the Blog for safe keeping. This is a post I wrote on September 2, 2007.
Background: That week in September I decided to scrap our problematic Phoenix simulator controls and install the Odyssey's simulator's controls in their place. The Odyssey's controls were stable and reliable. I felt it would make life easier for everyone and bring a sense of uniformity to the Center.
The reaction I got to my decision was quick and severe from many staff and volunteers. That reaction forced me to rethink my decision. In the end I relented and the Phoenix was given new controls programmed by Alex A.
This post was written at the height of the conflict when it looked like a lynching was in my immediate future. It was my way to attempt to bring a bit of humor into a tense situation.
Mr. Williamson
And now, a Blast Post from the Past. September 2, 2007
It was rather chilly at the Space Center. The temperature at my desk was a good ten degrees lower than the rest of the room. It wasn't an atmospheric abnormality
that caused the difference but rather a human generated Arctic breeze, like a cold
front from Canada, powered by the bitter looks and icy purpose from many of the staff pushed in my direction by the toss of a head or the glance of an eye half covered with a dropped eyebrow. Accompanying the evil eye was a wrinkled nose associated with a putrid smell.
Lately I've been afraid to leave the safety of my extended desk. It was my fortress of solitude. I sat at my chair wearing my winter coat and double stitched long johns. I would watch for a drop in traffic to make a dash for the toilet or quench my thirst with an icy cola from the faculty room.
Friday afternoon I saw a chance to escape. It happened before the overnight camp. I moved from my desk toward the door. I took all precautions before making my move. I looked both directions and saw the coast was clear. I got down on all fours and put my ear to the carpet to listen for approaching footfalls. I heard nothing but found a quarter and two M&M's. They were quickly ingested to quiet a stomach left untended for several hours. I stood up, reached for the "Enforcer" and walked to the edge of the desk . I licked my finger and held it over my head to detect an approaching cold front - Nothing. I moved. I moved around the desk and raced for the Briefing Room's Door. I made the corner around the Phoenix and felt the air chill to the point my breath was visible. In the doorway stood Megan and Alex. They were backed by Dave, Stacy, Matt, and what appeared to be a mob of smaller humans all wearing black t-shirts with anchors on their back.
"Going somewhere?" Megan asked. The smile was penetratingly cold. I was still. My first instinct was to retreat to my desk. I began moving backward but stopped when I felt the chill rotate to my back indicating my escape was blocked by a human glacier.
"Get Him," she shouted. Alex moved quickly diving forward and taking me down with a thud. The back of my head hit the carpeted floor knocking several of my senses loose thus causing the temporary loss of movement in my arms and legs.
"Bring Him," was the next thing I heard half dazed from the trauma. I was half carried and half pushed down the hall to Discovery.
"Put him in the docket," I heard Dave say. My head was clearing. I was able to make
out my surroundings. It was the Discovery Room - but different. I was led to a roped off area. At the front of the room I saw a large statue of a blindfolded woman holding scales in her outstretched hand and a sword in the other. Along the far wall, half
obscured by darkness, sat a jury of twelve staff and volunteers. I was placed in the
defendants box, guarded by two members of the Programming Guild armed with phasers. Discovery's door closed behind me with a bang. There was mumbling. Heads turned from me - toward the front of the room and back to me. One person walked toward the cage. It was Mr. Mark Daymont wearing black legal robes. The white wig of an English Barrister rested awkwardly on his head. I leaned forward to tell him to take the stupid thing off but was cut off when he placed a finger to his mouth motioning that I should remain quiet.
"I'm your defense attorney," he whispered.
"Nice wig," I replied forgetting his admonition to stay quiet.
"Get Serious," he said sternly looking around the room as if trying to find a sympathetic face. "You are in a lot of trouble and I don't know If I can get you out of it. Luckily my brother is one of the judges."
"Its about the new Odyssey controls being installed in the Phoenix isn't it," I said,
already knowing the answer to my own question. He looked at me as if I were stupid and nodded his head. "I knew I should of consulted the Phoenix staff and others but
..." he stopped me from continuing.
"That `but' you were about to add, will be your defense and possibly save you from Madam Guillotine," he moved from my cage, took two steps forward, and sat at one of the tables reserved for the defense. I peered across the dimly lit room trying to
recognize the prosecutor. It was a female. It was Megan! Her table was covered by Space Center Law books, legal pads, and pens. She was surrounded by well wishers. The looks on their faces provided the meaning to the words I saw them speaking but couldn't hear because of the distance. At that moment I fully realized how my decision to replace the Phoenix Controls with Odyssey Controls had upset so many people.
I noticed that my defense table was empty except for Mr. Daymont pouring over copious notes while shaking his head as if in pain. The head motion was accompanied by an occasional hissing sound as he took in air through clenched teeth.
The room grew quiet. The hour had arrived. I felt I had made the right decision but
executed it poorly. Now it was time to pay the piper. Would the staff let me keep my head or was this it. A sound was heard outside. It was he sound of wood sliding
across wood and then a loud CHOP followed by a pause then repeated two or three more times. The `Madam' was being prepared. A few minutes later Discovery's door opened. In walked two of our new volunteers each wearing red armbands. They held trays of newly cut watermelon.
Dave Daymont, the head judge, nodded his head giving them permission to pass the fruit out to the spectators. My heart sank as Mr Daymont's head dropped to the table amidst the sound of slurping.
"This is good. Look very few seeds," Kyle Herring said as he studied his slice.There were a few grunts of agreement from those around him.
"Sometimes the best of intentions can go wrong," I thought. I leaned back in my seat
thinking what I would say in my defense. My thought was interrupted by the sound of the gavel. Everyone sat up and faced the front. The trial of the century was about
to start.
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