March 1st.

Hello Troops,
February is in the rear view mirror and that's where I'm happy to leave it. I'm looking forward to warmer weather and better behaved snow. This is the time of year when snow generally favors the mountains and not the valleys, which makes me happy. This is the time of the year when snow starts to fill our streams and lakes. That makes me happy. This is the time of year when snow falls nicely through the air giving everyone that "It's snowing" rush but disappears upon contact with my driveway. That makes me happy. Yes, this month will give us a better behaved snow.

We had a great time hosting 70 plus students from Goshen yesterday. They did well in the ships and were outstanding in the classroom.

How about a few smiles to start the month?

Perhaps your idea of a perfect school lunch? This is what's on today's lunch menu in the Imaginarium's Cafeteria. All of this at 100 calories.


Coat hangers for Imagineers. The perfect gift.


One of Norman Rockwell's famous paintings from Life Magazine.


And another version from the Imaginarium's Museum of Modified Art.

And from the "Isn't that True" Department.

And now a Scene from the next James Bond 007 Film.


And from "The Stuff No One Told You Department"


A Thought from our "Stuff you Won't Hear in Church This Sunday" Department.



And our Everyday Blues

I'd love a poster like this to recruit new volunteers. Imagine seeing something like this in your school's hallway.

Have a Great March and I'll see you in the Trenches.

Mr. W.

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.