Marvin Can't go to the Space Center

Marvin Maplethorp is one very upset boy this morning. His mother shattered his dreams during breakfast when she told him that he was too young to go to his older brother's birthday party at the Space Education Center. His mood didn't change even after she broke her own rule and brought out his Wolfman mug. Such a thing would normally be strictly forbidden at the breakfast table but there are times even mothers break their own rules.

Marvin would have none of it. He saw his mother's weakness and pulled out the next trick in his arsenal. He threatened never to eat again and pounded his forehead on the table.

"You'll be too scared. There are aliens that attack you and stuff," his older brother said as he shoveled spoonfuls of Cheerios into his mouth in a mad rush to finish quickly and get ready.

"I'm not afraid of aliens," Marvin shot back in his own defense.

"Not these kind of aliens." His brother sat back in his chair, thought for a moment and continued. "On my last overnight camp our ship was taken over by these really tall and skinny aliens. We all ran and hid. I crawled under a desk. I heard security shooting at the alien. The workers called security down, that means they got shot. It was only me and this alien. I heard the door open. It was dark. I looked up from under the desk and saw the most hideous creature I'd ever seen coming after me."

Marvin's eyes grew as large as quarters. "Did it get you?" he asked.

His brother described the alien in detail. He told how he fought bravely for his ship and crew. He described how it nearly got him but the revived security guards were able to get to him first.

"Them aliens like small kids like you 'cause you can't fight back like us bigger kids. If you went to my party you'd be taken for sure. Then what's mom suppose to do? She'll cry all day and night. All because you are acting like a baby and threw a fit about coming to my party?" His brother looked at his mom and smiled. His over exaggerated story telling was having its desired effect.

Marvin thought for a moment, then said that maybe he was a too small. "But when I get older I'll get them aliens," he declared as he reached for his Wolfman mug filled with Donald Duck Orange Juice.

Marvin and his mother spent some time at WalMart while his brother and his friends were at the Space Center. Mother shopped for groceries and Marvin looked for laser guns and other useful items to defend himself from alien attack.

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And now, a few items from the Imaginarium offered to shore up your imagination.

VanGogh's Mordor and the Starry Night, for sale only in the Imgainarium's Gift Shop.

Junior attempts to move a few objects using the dark side of the force while he waits for his Happy Meal.

Steam Punked R2D2

And so, Tuesday is upon us.

Mr. W.

The Start to a New Week.

Antonio Rigamortii waits for the call to collect dead imaginations from his shop near the Wonderland Station.
His is the saddest job at the Imaginarium.
Pray you never find Antonio on your doorstep.
Exercise your imagination daily. Put the Extra in the Ordinary.

Hello Troops,
After taking everything into account I'll venture far enough to say that we all enjoyed a good first week in the trenches of the summer season's first camp. Monday night was the first Overnight Camp of the season. All the ships except the Voyager told their new summer missions. The reviews were flattering and the campers generous with praise. I regret not sending regular updates from the Imaginarium. There was always some kind of emergency that needed my attention every time I'd sit down to write.

This week starts with a series of private missions followed on Wednesday with an EdVenture Camp and Overnight Camp. When put together the two separate camps become our first Ultimate Camp. Its a clever way of making a long four day camp by stitching together two regular camps. An original idea from yours truly. I blush in your admiration.

I'm thinking I'll use one of the portals to Wonderland and the Imaginarium tomorrow. I'm not in the mood for an underground subway trek. Saturday's mad rush and the foul temperament of the departing crowd was enough for one week.


This portal into the Imaginarium is handy and nearby. If you're lucky, you'll find a hobbit or two. A friendly "Hello" usually results in an invitation to join them for first and second breakfasts, only if you arrive early enough in the morning.

Here are a few other items showing great imagination.


The receipe for epic tales....... Now the challenge. Write a new Space Center mission using the formula below. Remember the key word is Epic.

Do you join me in this dream of an ideal world?
It begins with you. Never ask that question again.

Ah, the things you see on any given day in the Imaginarium. Just step outside to stretch your legs and in an instant your perceptions of the here and now are challenged.



There are times in life when it's necessary to walk away and take the path less traveled. Such decisions should be made carefully because they can be life changing.

Do you feel the urge to step out of matrix and forge ahead into the Unknown Desert? Changing your way of thinking and questioning what others claim is concrete can, at times, lead to loneliness. It disturbs the status quo, which in turn upsets those that follow the cycle religiously. Stepping away to gain a better understanding of our world and universe is how the mental processes evolve. This evolution takes us one step closer toward learning how to live peacefully with ourselves and with each other. It is raw courage at its best.

If it were only that easy.

A Confession.
One of my true weaknesses.

Finally, an admonition and advice for today only. Tomorrow will take care of itself.


And to the Space Education Center's awesome staff and volunteers,
I'll see you in the trenches.

And to our kind readers. We hope to see you soon at the place where imagination and dreams collide into a practically perfect blend of education and adventure.

Mr. W.

They are Lucky to be Alive. Space Center Heroes.

And One Last Step. "Pray for Survivors".

Hello Troops,

Last night I left the Space Center in good hands to attend Chris Call's wedding reception. I was gone 45 minutes. I congratulated Chris and his bride, spoke briefly with Alan Stewart, held Alan's baby son (he wanted to come to me strangely enough), spoke to David Call and his girl friend Jessica (a former student of mine), paid my respects to the delights spread out on the serving tables (a chocolate fountain) and returned to the Space Center to lock the doors.

I was struck by the quiet when I entered the school. My instincts told me something was amiss. I knew the Odyssey and Galileo had missions until 7:00 P.M. and it was 6:45 P.M.

Suddenly there was an explosion from the cafeteria. The Galileo mission was still running. I walked down the ramp, opened the cafeteria door and saw Christine delivering an Academy Award winning performance into her microphone. I shut the door and walked up the ramp toward the Space Center's Office. There was still no sound from the Odyssey.

I walked into the Office to see what was wrong and was immediately struck by the powerful smell of something that made my body's gag reflex react. I backed out to the relative safety of the hallway.

"Jon! Devin! Are you in there?" I shouted. There was no answer. "Anyone in there at all?" There was still no answer.

Something horrific had happened. I had to put mind over matter, stifle my gag reflexes and forge ahead into the abyss. I cautiously walked back into the Briefing Room. The middle bank of fluorescent lights were flickering, making me feel like I was walking into a silent film. It was all too surreal. There was something familiar about what I was experiencing. A memory raced through my mind turning my blood cold.

"Aliens," I whispered through the fingers held tightly over my mouth and nose. How else could you explain the silence and the smell? I heard a sound in the Odyssey's transporter door. It turned slightly revealing the shadowy figure of a boy in a white doctor's coat. He fell to his knees and then out the door onto the carpeted hallway. It was Nabil, one of our volunteers. I rushed to the door, grabbed his wrists and pulled him out of the room into the hallway. He was choking. He struggled to speak. He pointed back into the room.

"Devin," he coughed out. I rushed to the Odyssey's Control Room door and opened it. The smell sent me to my knees. I pulled my shirt up over my mouth and nose and struggled back to my feet using the doorknob for balance. Devin and his 2nd chair were unconscious - their faces painted in olive green. I saw that the Odyssey's AIU Computer had functioned correctly and followed its preprogrammed emergency functions by deploying the oxygen masks. They dangled over our two brave uncounsious staff who were barely breathing. I pulled them out one by one.

"Jon," Devin whispered after loosing his lunch on the blue and white hallway floor. "He was in there with us."

I again pulled my shirt up over my face and nose and reentered the room. The smell was too powerful, stopping me dead near my desk. My self preservation instincts urged me to evacuated but I couldn't leave a valued staff member and friend behind. A solution came to mind. I fell over my desk and found my bottle of cheap cologne stored next to the printer. I made a mask of tissue doused with cologne to give me enough time to search the perimeter. I rushed to the other desk and found Jon on the floor curled in a fetal position.

"Jon, get up!" I shouted. There was no response. I struggled to get him to his feet. The chair was in the way along with the black hole lost and found box. Thankfully Nabil appeared and helped me get him to his feet and out of the room.

"Weapons," I said to Nabil. "Run to the Magellan's closets and bring back all their phaser rifles. If these aliens want the good people of Pleasant Grove they'll have to get through us first."

Nabil looked confused. "There are no aliens Mr. Williamson. One of the kids in the Odyssey had an accident."

"What?" I questioned. "No Aliens?" Nabil shrugged his shoulders and nodded.
"That can't be. The circulation system has fail safes. Such a catastrophe can't happen - not here - and definitely not at the Space Center where all contingencies are taken into account!"

I knew that the air circulation system should have prevented any human smell from reaching the caustic point. Such an occurrence was anticipated in the design of the air handling system. So what had gone wrong? I glanced a the clock and remembered that I had forgotten to do something earlier. The air conditioning system was programed to switch off at 5:00 P.M. It was now nearly 7:00 P.M. My "To Do List" had 'change the air timer' in position one. It was another one of "My Bad's". For two hours there was no conditioned air circulating through the Briefing Room, Odyssey and Phoenix. I had created the perfect atmospheric storm.

The mission was over. The crew was revived and sent on their way. It was time to go where no man dared go - into an infected ship. Jon, being younger and braver, entered first. I followed. The interior of the Odyssey was noxious. Regardless, we had to find the source.

"Anything?" I shouted through the scented tissues.
"Nothing," Jon answered.
"Check the chairs."

Our Carefully Trained Space Center Staff
prepare to disinfect the chair

The offending chair was found, removed and fumigated.

You are all invited to attend the presentation of the Space Center's Merit Award to Devin, Jon, Nabil and Devin's Second Chair (I don't remember who it was) at the end of the Overnight Camp on Saturday. They stayed at their posts, doing everything they could to keep their mission moving forward even in the face of overwhelming obstacles and non circulating and conditioned air. They set the example for all of us.

Excellent Work!

Mr. Williamson