Hello Troops,
Well I just finished a post for my Cloverdale Blog on Otis Fleeber and his alien abduction. Give it a read if you have some spare time. http://ourcloverdale.blogspot.com/
Now, I’ll turn my attention to the Space Center’s news of the week. I’m hoping to stay away as I write. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. Match that with the little sleep I got on Friday night and you've got a walking zombie. Overnight camps are not good for sleeping. I’m on duty all night long so I sleep lightly. I'm always listening for the sound of campers needing help, screaming in their sleep, or attempting an escape ;)
Its all OK. Isn’t sleep entirely over rated anyway? Look at how many hours, days, weeks, even years are lost to sleep. Why aren’t we looking at the genetic code that forces us to sleep and find a way to sequence it out of our DNA? Is there anyone out there with me on this one? Anyone? Oh, I see how it is. You’ll all leave me hanging on this one. What........? You enjoy your sleep? So let me get this straight. You wouldn’t trade your sleep for an additional six to ten hours of productive work time every day? Well, I’m getting nowhere with this point so I’ll drop it.
The Odyssey Bites Megan Warner.
The Odyssey’s computers all shut themselves down on Monday toward the end of the field trip. Megan was the Flight Director. Being the professional she is, Megan went into crisis story telling mode and brought the downed computers into the mission - claiming they went down because of battle damage. Once the kids were convinced it was their fault the computers were down, Megan had to figure a way for the crew to operate the ship without computers. The benefit of experience gave her a solution. Instead of clicking their commands into a computer, the crew spoke their commands to the Odyssey’s main computer. Megan insisted they say their commands just as if they were working their station. If they phrased their instructions correctly she responded with the proper action. It worked and they finished the mission with a cheer. Great Job Megan!
The Voyager Can Read Your Mind.
I had a similar problem on Monday with the Voyager’s computers. At 10:30 A.M. I sat in my Flight Director’s chair to start the mission. I felt good about the day so far. Then, I made a mistake. I thought how good it was that the Voyager was running so perfectly on a day when I’d be telling three missions back to back. As soon as the thought crossed my mind I knew I was in trouble for thinking it. The Voyager can read my mind and if it thinks I’m pleased with it’s performance it will bite. It bit. My FD computer froze. That rarely happens. I restarted it and when right into my Tex welcome speech. I hoped that would be then end of it. It wasn’t.
The climatic ending of Perikoi involves a chase sequence involving the Voyager and an alien ship. We were moving into that scene. Suddenly my computer decided to ‘Slow Down’. It froze for several seconds and then unfroze for a moment before refreezing. The cycle of freezing and unfreezing wasn't stopping. That cycle forced me to sit completely glued to the computer to catch it when it unfroze so I could advance the screens and break or repair things. It was nerve racking trying to get through an action packed sequence with a computer on a partial strike.
We got through the mission without the crew knowing the problem. In the five minutes I had to reset the ship for the 11:40 A.M. mission I found the source of the slow down. The First Officer from the 9:30 A.M. mission tried to print her computer log. The First Officer’s computer wasn't set to print to the Bridge printer and that put the computer into some kind of looping network clogging mess. One restart and the issue was resolved.
You know, there is a lot of stress that comes from running these mini theaters with live presentations. If a ride goes down in an amusement park people can simply move to the other rides. At the Space Center, if one simulator goes down we have no choice but to send the school home without the option of returning. For that reason, we have duplicate pieces of equipment for almost everything. That requires a large financial obligation and a large amount of storage - both of which the Space Center has very little of.
Over Booked Woes
I think I may have overbooked the Center for 2:00 - 6:00 P.M. field trips this year. We are running after school field trips nearly every day in April and May. That involves telling three to four missions per day. My staff think I’m crazy for booking that many missions but the alternative was to turn even more schools away and I can’t do that. As the founder and creator of the Space Center I honestly feel a great deal of accomplishment whenever a school comes for a Field Trip. Their attendance is a compliment for the program, the concept, and the wonderful hard working staff . My gratitude to them makes it nearly impossible to turn a teacher and school away. It is like turning down praise. We all like to be praised. If someone was giving you an honest compliment for a job well down would you tell them to shut up and go away? I know there are some holes in that comparison but I believe you get the picture. We will find a way to survived the avalanche of missions about to befall us. The key is a good positive attitude and lots of support from great volunteers. And we all know the best volunteers in the state work at the Space Center.
Will the Galileo Fall Apart in Mid Flight?
I’ve got to hand it to Stacy Carroll and her staff of Flight Directors (Rachel H. and Taylor T) for keeping our present Galileo operational. It isn’t easy. The current Galileo should have been replaced a long time ago. The new Galileo is nearly complete and should be at the Space Center sometime at the end of this school year or the beginning of summer. Until delivery, we must keep the current simulator operational. That's the problem Stacy and her staff face.
Stacy Carroll is the Galileo Set Director. It is her responsibility to keep the ship operational until the new Galileo arrives and she takes that responsibility seriously. Stacy and her staff work many unpaid hours repairing, taping, replacing and debugging a ship that just wants to be put out to pasture. This week alone they were solving multiple problems with the simulator’s sound system. On Friday they had a flight waiting in the lobby while they worked to repair a main viewer in the ship that wouldn’t display correctly. The television was affected by a build up of static electricity. They solved the problem just before the crew boarded the ship. Another bullet missed. Thanks Stacy, Rachel and Taylor. We all owe you one!
New Supervisors!
I want to welcome three new Supervisors into the Supervisor’s Guild. Maren H. finished her required passes on the Voyager. Zach H. got his Magellan 2nd Chair pass during the overnighter and Kevin R. got his Voyager pass on Saturday. All of them have now finished their Voyager and Magellan passes and will receive their blue Supervisor shirts after the next overnight camp.
Bridger Maxwell Wins Science Fair
Bridger Maxwell, our very own Programming Guild Master, won first place in the Computer Science Division of the regional science fair at BYU on Thursday. His project was based on the new programming he is doing on the Galileo simulator.
Bridger spoke highly of the Center and me during the judging. His ‘plug’ led to my selection as Mentor of the Year. Neither Bridger nor I knew there was such an award but I’m happy I won. I got a nice certificate for my 'Love Me Wall' and a terabyte external drive from Symantic (sp?). I don’t know a lot about a terabyte drive but they tell me I can download my entire mind into it and it would still have plenty of room for a few hundred thousand MP3’s. Imagine bringing a spare brain with me where ever I go. Imagine the possibilities!
Bridger will receive a $10,000 scholarship to a Utah school and an all expense paid trip to the International Science Fair in Reno, Nevada at the end of April.
We’ve had very good programmers at the Center over the years and Bridger proudly keeps up that tradition.
Well Troops, That’s about it. There are other things I could write but you’re getting bored so I’ll stop. Take care and thanks for your support in labor. And thank you for spreading the good word about the Space Center to people in your social circles. Positive praise maintains our reputation as a place that cares about our product and the students we serve.
Mr. Williamson
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Stories From the Space Center. Your Bedtime Read.
Hello Troops,
From my favorite chair I see a storm blowing in across the valley. My view of Lehi disappeared first. As I watched, American Fork vanished from view, swallowed in a wall of white resembling a curtain starting on the ground and ascending into the sky and out of view. This white opaque curtain is rolling closer and closer to my home up on Pleasant Grove’s hillside. It’s an eerie sight. I feel like I’m in a some kind of an’ end of the world’ movie. I have a powerful but controllable urge to grab a flashlight, a first aide kit, and my emergency backpack and hunker down in the cement walled pantry. Instead I’ll sit here and type. If my home starts disintegrating around me this post will come to abrupt end. At least I went down in mid sentence. Taken to my reward in mid thought. Isn’t that nice to know? The last thing on my mind will be a hopeful question concerning what I’ll write after this sentence.
Well, I’m still here. I'm still thinking......... my mind’s drawn a blank - just as blank as this wall of white that has now passed. It had gale force winds for awhile but calm has returned.
It was fun sitting here watching members of the Grovecreek 8th Ward run by my home. One dad has his daughter in one arm, his scriptures in the other and looked like a real dunce running down the sidewalk. I wondered why he was running . It wasn’t that cold. It wasn’t raining. It was just a good wind. Perhaps he was concerned about his hair. I doubt it. There wasn’t much left on top of his head. Again, just another thing to add to my every growing list of things that confuse me.
Humans........ I’ll never figure you out.
I may have said too much.
Moving along, let’s discuss a few things concerning the Space Center since that ‘s why your reading this on the Space Center’s Blog.
What A Dunce !
Earlier I used that word to describe the grown man running in fear of a little wind. Now I use it to describe myself. I’m a Fool! At least when it comes to some things. Take the microphone in the Voyager Control Room.
For two weeks my mic’s cable has been shorting out. During a mission I’d be in mid sentence as Tex or the computer and suddenly I’d find myself talking to me and my fellow Troubadours in the Control Room. My characters weren’t being heard on the Bridge because of a short in the mic cable. With a twist of the cord the connection would be reestablished and I’d continue where I left off. Irritating was the word to describe the situation.
Emily Perry was about to start a mission in the Voyager Friday afternoon. I decided to do her a favor and replace the cable. I found one in storage, went to the sound mixer and started unplugging what I thought was the old cable. Once it was out of the way I plugged in the new one. I sat back in my Flight Director’s chair beaming with pride at my technological accomplishment.
What a Dunce! The mic didn’t work. I’d messed up somewhere. I pulled the mixer out and took a look in the back. What I found sent a humbling shiver down my spine. Mine eyes beheld a spaghetti bowl full of black cables and wires. going every direction, including a few in extra dimensions of time and space. I tried to unplug a few more. Nothing. Panic set in. Not only was I making a fool out of myself in front of the two Supervisors but also the volunteers. Here he is, the Master of the Space Center, unable to change a simple microphone cable.
I had no other choice but to call Kyle Herring - our resident genius. The mission was 30 minutes from starting. He didn’t answer. I called again and again. Finally an answer. He was just out of the shower dripping wet. Kyle had returned from Chicago an hour or so earlier. I explained the problem. I told him he could have anything up to half my kingdom if he would just put on a hat and get over to the Center right away.
“OK, well I’m standing here dripping from the shower. Shall I just put on a hat and rush over?” he questioned.
“Yes,” I insisted.
“Just a hat?” he continued in a very calm voice. He could of dropped the whole matter, dressed, and came over but he just had to see this one through. “Just A Hat?” he questioned again. “You really want me coming to the Space Center wearing nothing but a hat?”
Well, I got it. After another sentence to clarify I hung up. Kyle made it just in time. He corrected my mistake with out belittling me in front of the staff. He gets a ‘Get Out of Jail Card’ for saving my bacon on Friday.
Thanks Kyle.
An Opening in the Space Time Continuum
We hosted seventh and eighth grade students from Lakeridge Junior High’s STY (Smarter than You.... the Gifted) class this weekend. They were a great group. Dallin was one of the boys on the mission and a rabid fan of the Space Center, not to mention, a regular reader of this Blog (hello Dallin, here is what you wanted - something about your mission).
Dallin is one of the two happiest, most cheerful, bubbly, friendly, outgoing, optimistic people I know in this world. The other person is Christine Grosland, one of our Odyssey Flight Directors. She is the Poster Child of the Worldwide Optimists Club. Now let me get the picture straight for you - we had, under the same roof , the two happiest people on the planet and therefore possibly in the universe. I wondered what the result would be if they got too close together. The consequences were beyond my ability to calculate. It was best to keep them separated.
Well, my best laid plan of segregation failed on Saturday morning. It was breakfast time. Everyone was in the Cafeteria except for Christine. Dallin was full of energy and natural joy and was moving around the room sharing it with everyone. I myself was the beneficiary of two blessings. My day was made better because of it.
Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Christine. She was walking toward the window to pick up something to eat. I searched the room for Dallin. He was on the move. I quickly did the math. They were on a collision course. Destiny had brought them together. Like two trains racing toward each other on the same track, their paths were about to collide. I turned to Brittany, Magellan’s Flight Director, who was sitting on my left. “Oh No, they are going to touch,” I said. Brittany looked over to where I was pointing. I started to jump up from the desk I was sitting on but realized there was nothing I could do to prevent what destiny had appointed. I sat back down wondering if the world would be the same once their hands met. I pictured a bubble of brilliant white joy starting from their joined hands and expanding outward at supersonic speed encasing everyone on the planet in pure happiness. Could I live with myself if I was happy all the time? What about my sarcasm? What about my dry wit? What about my evil sense of humor that drives me to laugh at other people’s misfortune? Would the very essence of who I was get stripped away? I sat back down to await my fate.
Their hands both went up at the same time to give each other a High 5. Six inches of separation changed to 5, then 4, 3, 2, 1............ I held my arms out in supplication, asking my creator to spare at least something of the old Mr. Williamson. They touched. They laughed. They separated. I looked around. Everything seemed to be normal. I turned to Brittany and asked if I was wearing a smile. She assured me I looked like I always did - slightly ill.
“Yes!” I shouted. The space time continuum was not broken. Brittany started to laugh. Bradyn Lystrup didn’t understand the commotion and waved off an explanation. It was going to be a good day after all.
One Great Worker
I want to take a moment of your time to publicly thank one of our staff for always going the extra mile. His name is Spencer Robinson. He comes in when needed to do our repairs.
He is working on new set pieces of the Odyssey. He also recently painted the blue trim on the Voyager’s desks and will soon start on repairs to the Voyager’s Captain’s Loft. Spencer has a fantastic attitude about work. He enjoys to be busy and we are the beneficiaries of that work ethic. Thanks Spencer for a job well done.
Saint Sheila on BYU Television
Yes, our very own Saint Sheila of Lehi appeared on BYU television last week. They ran a piece on the Space Center as part of their nightly news. The reporter spent nearly an hour at the Center. Most of the time was with Aleta Clegg. A few minutes of the reporter’s time was with Sheila. Well, what did the reported choose to do? She decided to use the Saint Sheila footage and nothing from Aleta.
Aleta admitted defeat the following day. Up until then Aleta privately doubted the sainthood of Shiela. She ignored the growing evidence claiming it was all random occurrences brought on by statistical chance. Not any more. Aleta is now suggesting we have an official portrait painted of Sheila to hang in the Discovery Room. Small prints of the portrait could be sold in the Center’s Gift Shop along with candles. Surely a portrait of Saint Sheila with a candle or two on any home’s mantle would bring blessings.
Aleta, we welcome you to the growing congregation of Sheila admirers. She is one great gal.
And yes, you may keep all the proceeds from the sale of the pictures and candles. That will be your blessing.
Well, have a great week everyone. Thanks for reading, and to our staff and volunteers -thank you for your dedication. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for the fantastic people that work here. I’m am your greatest fan.
Mr. Williamson
From my favorite chair I see a storm blowing in across the valley. My view of Lehi disappeared first. As I watched, American Fork vanished from view, swallowed in a wall of white resembling a curtain starting on the ground and ascending into the sky and out of view. This white opaque curtain is rolling closer and closer to my home up on Pleasant Grove’s hillside. It’s an eerie sight. I feel like I’m in a some kind of an’ end of the world’ movie. I have a powerful but controllable urge to grab a flashlight, a first aide kit, and my emergency backpack and hunker down in the cement walled pantry. Instead I’ll sit here and type. If my home starts disintegrating around me this post will come to abrupt end. At least I went down in mid sentence. Taken to my reward in mid thought. Isn’t that nice to know? The last thing on my mind will be a hopeful question concerning what I’ll write after this sentence.
Well, I’m still here. I'm still thinking......... my mind’s drawn a blank - just as blank as this wall of white that has now passed. It had gale force winds for awhile but calm has returned.
It was fun sitting here watching members of the Grovecreek 8th Ward run by my home. One dad has his daughter in one arm, his scriptures in the other and looked like a real dunce running down the sidewalk. I wondered why he was running . It wasn’t that cold. It wasn’t raining. It was just a good wind. Perhaps he was concerned about his hair. I doubt it. There wasn’t much left on top of his head. Again, just another thing to add to my every growing list of things that confuse me.
Humans........ I’ll never figure you out.
I may have said too much.
Moving along, let’s discuss a few things concerning the Space Center since that ‘s why your reading this on the Space Center’s Blog.
What A Dunce !
Earlier I used that word to describe the grown man running in fear of a little wind. Now I use it to describe myself. I’m a Fool! At least when it comes to some things. Take the microphone in the Voyager Control Room.
For two weeks my mic’s cable has been shorting out. During a mission I’d be in mid sentence as Tex or the computer and suddenly I’d find myself talking to me and my fellow Troubadours in the Control Room. My characters weren’t being heard on the Bridge because of a short in the mic cable. With a twist of the cord the connection would be reestablished and I’d continue where I left off. Irritating was the word to describe the situation.
Emily Perry was about to start a mission in the Voyager Friday afternoon. I decided to do her a favor and replace the cable. I found one in storage, went to the sound mixer and started unplugging what I thought was the old cable. Once it was out of the way I plugged in the new one. I sat back in my Flight Director’s chair beaming with pride at my technological accomplishment.
What a Dunce! The mic didn’t work. I’d messed up somewhere. I pulled the mixer out and took a look in the back. What I found sent a humbling shiver down my spine. Mine eyes beheld a spaghetti bowl full of black cables and wires. going every direction, including a few in extra dimensions of time and space. I tried to unplug a few more. Nothing. Panic set in. Not only was I making a fool out of myself in front of the two Supervisors but also the volunteers. Here he is, the Master of the Space Center, unable to change a simple microphone cable.
I had no other choice but to call Kyle Herring - our resident genius. The mission was 30 minutes from starting. He didn’t answer. I called again and again. Finally an answer. He was just out of the shower dripping wet. Kyle had returned from Chicago an hour or so earlier. I explained the problem. I told him he could have anything up to half my kingdom if he would just put on a hat and get over to the Center right away.
“OK, well I’m standing here dripping from the shower. Shall I just put on a hat and rush over?” he questioned.
“Yes,” I insisted.
“Just a hat?” he continued in a very calm voice. He could of dropped the whole matter, dressed, and came over but he just had to see this one through. “Just A Hat?” he questioned again. “You really want me coming to the Space Center wearing nothing but a hat?”
Well, I got it. After another sentence to clarify I hung up. Kyle made it just in time. He corrected my mistake with out belittling me in front of the staff. He gets a ‘Get Out of Jail Card’ for saving my bacon on Friday.
Thanks Kyle.
An Opening in the Space Time Continuum
We hosted seventh and eighth grade students from Lakeridge Junior High’s STY (Smarter than You.... the Gifted) class this weekend. They were a great group. Dallin was one of the boys on the mission and a rabid fan of the Space Center, not to mention, a regular reader of this Blog (hello Dallin, here is what you wanted - something about your mission).
Dallin is one of the two happiest, most cheerful, bubbly, friendly, outgoing, optimistic people I know in this world. The other person is Christine Grosland, one of our Odyssey Flight Directors. She is the Poster Child of the Worldwide Optimists Club. Now let me get the picture straight for you - we had, under the same roof , the two happiest people on the planet and therefore possibly in the universe. I wondered what the result would be if they got too close together. The consequences were beyond my ability to calculate. It was best to keep them separated.
Well, my best laid plan of segregation failed on Saturday morning. It was breakfast time. Everyone was in the Cafeteria except for Christine. Dallin was full of energy and natural joy and was moving around the room sharing it with everyone. I myself was the beneficiary of two blessings. My day was made better because of it.
Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Christine. She was walking toward the window to pick up something to eat. I searched the room for Dallin. He was on the move. I quickly did the math. They were on a collision course. Destiny had brought them together. Like two trains racing toward each other on the same track, their paths were about to collide. I turned to Brittany, Magellan’s Flight Director, who was sitting on my left. “Oh No, they are going to touch,” I said. Brittany looked over to where I was pointing. I started to jump up from the desk I was sitting on but realized there was nothing I could do to prevent what destiny had appointed. I sat back down wondering if the world would be the same once their hands met. I pictured a bubble of brilliant white joy starting from their joined hands and expanding outward at supersonic speed encasing everyone on the planet in pure happiness. Could I live with myself if I was happy all the time? What about my sarcasm? What about my dry wit? What about my evil sense of humor that drives me to laugh at other people’s misfortune? Would the very essence of who I was get stripped away? I sat back down to await my fate.
Their hands both went up at the same time to give each other a High 5. Six inches of separation changed to 5, then 4, 3, 2, 1............ I held my arms out in supplication, asking my creator to spare at least something of the old Mr. Williamson. They touched. They laughed. They separated. I looked around. Everything seemed to be normal. I turned to Brittany and asked if I was wearing a smile. She assured me I looked like I always did - slightly ill.
“Yes!” I shouted. The space time continuum was not broken. Brittany started to laugh. Bradyn Lystrup didn’t understand the commotion and waved off an explanation. It was going to be a good day after all.
One Great Worker
I want to take a moment of your time to publicly thank one of our staff for always going the extra mile. His name is Spencer Robinson. He comes in when needed to do our repairs.
He is working on new set pieces of the Odyssey. He also recently painted the blue trim on the Voyager’s desks and will soon start on repairs to the Voyager’s Captain’s Loft. Spencer has a fantastic attitude about work. He enjoys to be busy and we are the beneficiaries of that work ethic. Thanks Spencer for a job well done.
Saint Sheila on BYU Television
Yes, our very own Saint Sheila of Lehi appeared on BYU television last week. They ran a piece on the Space Center as part of their nightly news. The reporter spent nearly an hour at the Center. Most of the time was with Aleta Clegg. A few minutes of the reporter’s time was with Sheila. Well, what did the reported choose to do? She decided to use the Saint Sheila footage and nothing from Aleta.
Aleta admitted defeat the following day. Up until then Aleta privately doubted the sainthood of Shiela. She ignored the growing evidence claiming it was all random occurrences brought on by statistical chance. Not any more. Aleta is now suggesting we have an official portrait painted of Sheila to hang in the Discovery Room. Small prints of the portrait could be sold in the Center’s Gift Shop along with candles. Surely a portrait of Saint Sheila with a candle or two on any home’s mantle would bring blessings.
Aleta, we welcome you to the growing congregation of Sheila admirers. She is one great gal.
And yes, you may keep all the proceeds from the sale of the pictures and candles. That will be your blessing.
Well, have a great week everyone. Thanks for reading, and to our staff and volunteers -thank you for your dedication. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for the fantastic people that work here. I’m am your greatest fan.
Mr. Williamson
Saturday, March 21, 2009
BJ Warner's Open House
Hello Troops,One last reminder about BJ Warner's Missionary Open House tonight at my home. BJ leaves for the MTC on Wednesday. All Space Center staff and volunteers 18 years old and older may attend (and those that may be 17 and are seniors in High School). Sorry for the restrictions but there are 180 staff and volunteers and there just isn't enough room. Former staff and volunteers are invited as well. Come say your last goodbyes before he leaves for Provo and then on to Japan.
The door opens at 5:30 P.M. You can drop by until 9:00 P.M. Unfortunately, we stop at 9:00 P.M. My bodily functions grow unpredictable after that due to extreme exhaustion from the Overnight Camp.
There will be food so come hungry. I can't promise intelligent conversation. If it was like Brent's farewell we were all so exhausted from the camp we just sat and stared at each other for two hours. There was an occasional attempt at communication, but what promised to be a sentence came out a few grunts and a groan. Everyone seems more rested this morning so it should be better for BJ. So, come by and bid BJ farewell.
Mr. Williamson
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