Would you like to see something shocking? I got hold of this classified xray of Kermit the Frog. Something doesn't look quite right.
Hello Troops, Yesterday was a cake walk. Double field trips and private missons afterwords. I'm told the staff and volunteers were still in good spirits at 9:00 P.M. when the last groups left. Come on, you folks out there need to give us a real challenge. Its time to book more private missions and sign up for more camps.
Today we repeat the whole thing with double field trips and private missions. Do you see fear in our our eyes? Do you see sweating any more than normal? Do you see us in consultations with school district mental health specialists? Do you see American Forks's Catholic Priest sitting on the bench in the school's foyer ready to administer the last rites to an overworked and over stressed space center staffer or volunteer who's knocking on Heaven's door? All to be answered No, No and Double No. We are hyped, we are caffeinated and we are ready for nearly anything.
Now, I need to be careful. Every time I write that things are fine, Fortuna, the Goddess of Fate, gets her dander up and figures out ways to slam us. She loves to deal harshly with us at times but lately she seems to be preoccupied with other concerns. Let's see if I can get this post off without retribution. Let's enjoy our good fortune while it lasts!
And now, a few thoughts from the Imaginarium's Department of Etiquette.
Hello Troops, We are out of the gate running. This is our busiest week at the Space Center. We've got double field trips every day (ending at 6:00 P.M. when the last bus leaves) then private missions in most of the ships afterwords. I may have gone slightly overboard with the scheduling but not to worry, with the staff and volunteers we've got, a week like this is easily managed. Its the recovery over the weekend that will be rough - but that's done at home so no real concern of mine :)
Finally, a few things from the Imaginarium in hopes that your day will be as productive as ours. Remember, if something needs doing, do it with imagination.
If you need to take Puddgy on a walk, do it with imagination. Strap on this "Silence of the Lambs" mask and enjoy people's reactions. Warn them to stay back though. He's cute from a distance, but they won't like seeing their future reflection in a mirror if the mask were to slip off.
If you need to search for the droids, do it with imagination. Google can find anything.
If you're told to put a bench near the light post, do it with imagination. Who wouldn't want to enjoy your lunch from that vantage point?
Now go change the world, one thought at a time. And remember to stay positive.
Hello Troops, Had enough sugar for one day, or are you just beginning? I'm real old school when it comes to my candy of choice for Easter. You can have the jelly bean eggs. You can keep the Cadbury chocolate delights. I'll be your friend for life if you save me the marshmallow Peeps and the Brach's Easter Eggs with the colored candy shell and that white marshmallow interior. It's comfort candy to me - a reminder of my Easters in South Dakota as a kid.
My parents didn't put a lot of time into Easter, as evident in our traditional "Easter Egg Hunt". Every Easter afternoon my seven brothers and sister and I would be ordered to the basement after Sunday School to take off our church clothes and wait for the arrival and departure of the "Bunny". Maybe it was because we were the poor kids on the block, or maybe Rapid City, South Dakota was always the Bunny's last stop, but that darn Bunny didn't put a lot of effort into the hiding of our eggs. His haste always led to concussions and spilt blood.
Imagine eight children on a very narrow staircase, huddled with pillowcases (we couldn't afford the nicely woven, colorful baskets). We sat close to each other and waited for the upstair's door to open - the signal that the Hunt was on. My older sister and I sat at the bottom of the stairway on my parent's orders. Putting us at the end of the line was intended to give our younger siblings first dibs on the pickings. It never did and always led to disaster. Sometimes parents never learn.
We all jumped up and pressed forward when the door opened. Our hearts pounded in our chests, feeding off the thought of pure sugar. "You can come up!" Suddenly the words we waited for were spoken. It was time to put brotherly love aside or go without the good stuff for another year.
First blood was always drawn on the rush up the stairs. It was usually the youngest's bloody nose. My sister and I, having had more experience at that kind of thing and carrying more mass, easily pushed and shoved the other six out of the to make it outside first.
The Bunny's haste usually meant most of the eggs were located in one central area on the back lawn. "There they are!" was the shout we all listened for. Once the stash was located, it was like two football teams descending on a fumbled football. We all piled in, pushing and shoving, swinging and missing, swinging and hitting, biting and punching - it didn't matter. There were no rules in this evolutionary sport of survival of the fittest.
Now that I'm older I understand why our neighbors were always outside at their back fences. Watching the Williamson's Easter Egg raucous was better than anything on TV. Some of them joined in the fun by waiting until our collecting was finished and then shouted that we had missed a few. We watched while they threw several eggs by the tree. They laughed as the whole rugby scrum formed and fur, hair and teeth flew all over again. It was like tossing a whole piece of bread into a gaggle of ducks on the pond. Feathers flew and camera's snapped.
At the end, we four oldest had most of the candy eggs and Peeps while the youngest had the strangely colored hard boiled eggs we'd dyed the night before. Then came the tears and screams. The four of us knew that Mom would make us share the candy and Peeps if we didn't eat them right then and there. We ran to the side of the house and shoved them into our mouths as fast as we could (or rehid them for retrieval at 11:00 P.M when everyone was in bed).
The Holy Grail of our Easter was finding the one that got away. Remember finding that one candy egg or marshmallow Peep that escaped the search lights and blood hounds? There it quietly sat, hiding up high on the window ledge behind the living room curtain for a month or so until discovered. The thrill of finding the "One that Got Away" was intoxicating. The screaming would be followed by a parade through the house where the delicious morsel would be held out like a captive general of an opposing army. Your pride would swell from hearing "I can't believe it," said over and over again.
The Easter trophy would sometimes be eaten in front of everyone right after the parade. We believed that it's craftiness and cunning could be transferred into our own being through digestion. Other times the candy would be kept as a trophy to be taken out, dusted and shown to company for the next several months.
Yes, those are my Easter memories........ Happy days.......
Speaking of Eggs.. How about a few things from the Imaginarium?
Finally, Two of my favorite public service ads. They are only 30 seconds long and meant to remind us about the power of words. Please watch them and think. Words are very powerful both in building up and tearing down.
Would you like to see something shocking?
