She's Listing to Port, It's Every Man for Himself!

Hello Troops,
The Battlestar took a direct hit to the engine this afternoon just off the I15 main trading route just off the Provo Transpace Cluster. One moment all was well and the next an unsettling sound, followed by a thumping the likes of which have never been heard on this ship before. The engine was hit and failing fast. The ship cascaded out of hyperspace and cartwheeled in zero gravity. I luckily managed to coax the ship to a nearby Chevron Starbase. And there sat stranded far from the stars of home and surrounded by aliens calling themselves Provans. It was unsettling but I've faced worse. My years of training came to mind as I pondered by options.

I tried to look like I belonged. Being identified in Provo space as an alien has been known to be deadly. They are ones who do not take to 'outsiders' and my appearance all but screamed 'alien'. I began drawing attention. No matter how relaxed I looked I knew it wasn't often they saw a crippled Battlestar smelling ripe for the pickings.

In a matter of minutes I noticed one, then two then four were looking. I ordered a restart of the impulse drive, crossed myself, rubbed my lucky rabbit's foot and ordered 1/4 speed. The thumping grew louder then stabilized. The Battlestar maneuvered out of dock and entered the slower Geneva Trading Route.

It was ever so slow going but the old gal made it as far as the Central Port where she sits, a shadow of her former glory in a large empty lot. I left her there for the night, unable to get her up to home port. The climb would be too much for what once was an engine that could handle Warp 9 without breaking a sweat.

Tomorrow will be another day. The fleet mechanics will have their way with her and hopefully will have good news to report. If not, I'm afraid another ship will be joining the list of others that bravely went before to that great dry dock in the sky. Sigh......

Mr. W.

And Now, A Few Observations

Hello Troops,
The Space Center is safely tucked away for the weekend and all our campers have returned home to tell their tales of heroism and courage. We've had a good and busy week. How about a few things to ponder over to end your week?

We start our Saturday evening read with two things from the "True That" Department.


Did you know that the world's dictators are terrified of white mice?





And from our political desk....

Republicans, what happened?

And something from the closet of whimsical mysteries.....


Have a restful weekend Troops,

Mr. W.

A Problem in Design

Hello Troops,
A question of economy and energy savings compared to safety. I've see these cars buzzing around town. They not only look peculiar and out of place on our roads but completely unsafe. The picture below proves my point.


I was rear ended once in brand new 1996 Saturn. The Saturn handled the impact well. Everyone in the car was OK but our Hart's Big Chills didn't fare so well. Everyone in the car got a free sugar shower. The car's trunk took the brunt force of a lady more concerned with her cell phone conversation than the red light above her.

I think of the Smart Car and shudder at the thought of exposing my health and life, and the safety of my passengers to something that looks like it belongs in a Play School Wombles Set. Don't get me wrong, I trust my driving but can I trust the drivers around me?

In summary, I'll keep my Lincoln Battlestar that gets a mile or two per gallon of gas. You can have your Smart Car delivered in an egg carton. Think of the gas you're saving every day as you venture out onto Utah's highways where the big cars play, risking life and limb.

Mr. W.