Hold on, It Could Be a Bumpy Ride

Hello Troops,
Its the start of my 29th school year at Central School right here near beautiful downtown Pleasant Grove, home of the Hart's Gas Station's Big Chill! Much has changed since that first bell rang in August of 1983 but the basics remain the same. There are teachers, there are students and there are the brick enclosures that keep us in company. Every day we have this transfer of knowledge from us old timers to the millions of younglings who will inherit the best and the worst of who we are, what we've learned and what we've done to and for the planet.

At 8:45 A.M. I walked out into bright sunlight wearing my fluorescent orange crossing guard's vest (my pumpkin suit). The front of the school was already crowded with students all decked out in their new clothes and shoes. They looked at me. Some wondered who I was and why I was wearing that funny looking vest. Others knew I was a teacher and stepped back to give me a wide berth. A few managed a cautious smile. I said "Good morning!" Some responded, while others couldn't be bothered.

I took my place at the point where 100 East intersects 400 North. It's my special spot. My shoes and that section of concrete have been the best of friends every school day morning for over ten years. I know that road intimately. I've witnessed the effects of time and weather on the telephone pole I use for shade on bright warm mornings. I've seen nearly two full cycles of children cross my street. I introduced myself to them as Kindergartners and met them every morning at that spot until they graduated from the 6th grade and moved on to Junior High. When I'm gone I expect they'll put up a memorial obelisk to my honor just like the ones erected for the Egyptian Pharaohs. It will stand right on my spot near the crosswalk. Hieroglyphs describing my sidewalk exploits and achievements will adorn its four sides. It will be one of the wonders of Pleasant Grove.

I'm excited for another year. I'm grateful for the chance I have to work at the Space Education Center. I'm privileged to get to work with the finest kids in Utah.

Why not make this school year the best ever? Let's work hard in our classes, both as teachers and students? There will be bumps along the road and frustration over homework, there always is, so expect the good and the bad and plan accordingly. Just remember, you are in school to learn so put away the iphone, fasten your seat belt and tune in. It's your future we are talking about.

Now, its time to exercise the imagination.....

Mr. W.


Where would the world be without sarcasm? It is one of evolution's masterpieces, the brain's way of releasing pressure without exploding.

The recipe for a perfect home.

And what will we find when this happens to us? What will we find when we
reach the Boundary between the universe of our physics and that which lies beyond?

What has happened to us? I'm sure you've noticed how every car produced in the world today looks alike. Where is the imagination of design?

And finally, a secret gathering of time travellers.
The location will remain a secret.

Waiting at the Luneville Station, and Other Things.

Hello Troops,
I'm waiting for my train at Wonderland's Luneville Station. I'm in Luneville on assignment from the Imaginarium to inspect the Luneville Inspiration Packaging Works (LIPW). The LIPW produces the mental packaging used to wrap basic Inspirations.

Inspirational packaging is different for each person. This individuality helps every Receiver believe their new Inspiration is completely unique to them.

Hackford Memes is a technician at the Ministry of Inspirations. Today he is working on a new Inspiration in the Ministry's Laboratory at the Imaginarium. Hackford is responsible for the Inspiration that resulted in several items used in your home today. Mind you, not all his Inspirations are keepers (as illustrated above), but his track record is very good.

The Imaginarium's Ministry of Inspirations issues Inspirations hoping the Receivers will act on them to make the world a better place. Sadly some Inspirations, no matter how cleverly packaged, fail to motivate the Receiver to action. Unused Inspirations are return to the Ministry, reshelved and held until another candidate appears with the abilities to act on the gift.

And now, a few items from the Imaginarium....

Get yours while supplies last! Invisibility Cloaks are a must for the start of the school year. I own one and wouldn't go anywhere without it.

A Transparent Tardis

Let's use our imaginations and change this to a mirrored Tardis. Wouldn't a mirrored Tardis be perfect for every store's clothing department. The Dr. Who fans would go bananas and buy, buy and buy (and we all know that Dr. Who fans are more intelligent than your average Joe. With more intelligence comes a higher income, and a higher income means more spending power, and more spending power means more sales, and more sales means increased profits, and increased profits mean you get rich. All because you put a mirrored Tardis in your store!)

One day, a great speaker you shall be. Backwards, you get things.

A special new beverage from 'Workers of the World Unite!' Soft Drink Works in North Korea, brewed just for people with Socialist inclinations. All Leninades come with a paper cup. You get to drink half the bottle. The other half must be poured into the cup and given to someone who doesn't have the money to buy a Leninade for themselves.

All Leninade machines are equipped with surveillance cameras to ensure that you voluntarily share your drink equally with your less fortunate Comrades. Drinking an entire Leninade yourself results in public humiliations followed by the words "Capitalist" and "Bourgeoisie" stamped on your identification cards.

A word on weather tolerance worldwide.

An Oxygen Atom's dream.

The Daily Prophet advertises Miss Umbridge's latest book by saying, "Get your copy now at Flourish and Blotts, they are flying off the shelves!" This is deceptive. They are 'flying off the shelves' because of a spell Dolores cast on each copy, not because of brisk sales.

The question is, "Are you unique and different enough to be considered irreplaceable?" If not, work on it.

It's all in how things are packaged and presented, isn't it? Wendy's comes to mind. They advertise their french fries are salted with sea salt instead of regular salt. Improved taste is what they claim. In reality, this new advertising campaign is designed to make you, the average American, think sea salt is more 'nutritious' than that common mucky salt you've used for years at home. The sea salt makes you feel better about Jumbo sizing your fries.

One customer said recently, "I used to eat a regular fry with my combo. Now I jumbo size it. The more fries I eat the better because we all know that life on Earth crawled out of the sea. Right?"

Youngsters, if you want that cool tattoo, come to the Sorry Mom Tattoo Parlor where we specialize in giving lectures as good as your mom's before we start the work. This saves her the trouble and saves you the day long lecture. We start by hesitating to give you the tattoo, then relent if you persist. Next, we insist the tattoo go somewhere hidden under your clothes, then relent if you persist. Finally, we will refuse to give you the tattoo if the picture or language is questionable, then relent if you persist.

You won't find these services anywhere else.



You'll find a marshmallow and stick next to all fire extinguishers in Wonderland. It gives you something to do while you wait for the fireman to arrive.



This Inspiration from the Imaginarium's Ministry of Inspirations actually took hold, took root and became something of a local hang out. Each booth has a computer logged on to Facebook. Each booth has a web camera so you can Skype yourself eating to everyone you know. If you dribble or spill, the video footage can be instantly uploaded to YouTube with a couple clicks of the mouse. You just might become the next YouTube sensation!



Are you Republican? Are you Democrat? Perhaps a member of the Tea Party? Might I suggest that voting alone may not be enough to solve our country's fiscal problems. In the end, the folks in Washington tend to do just what they want, regardless of what the 'simple folks back home who don't know all the facts' say. Find ways to get involved. Become vocal. Ask tough questions. Demand accountability. If we all do our part, the slaughter house might not have to be 'the end game'.

The Teacher's Meet and the Super Overnight

Just us waiting for the Meeting to start. Most just wanted to get back to their schools.
Others were patient, knowing donuts and gallons of Diet Coke waited for them in the
mingling and 'get to know you' sessions afterwords

Earlier today (Friday) all Alpine District Employees met at UVU for a good ole time revival! There was plenty of hand clapping, testifying, back slapping, horn tooten and song singing. It was the old time religion. Souls were saved from summer's slothfulness. Regretfully no healings were witnessed, but there are nine months to go.

I felt sorry for the hundred or so high school students assigned to greet us along the sidewalks leading to the revival. They were under orders to clap for the hour or so it took all of us to get off our buses and into the meeting. Many were kind enough to shout positive platitudes. I thought it strange, considering we are the ones hired to shackle their bodies and minds to the state core curriculum for the next nine months. It reminded me of Tudor England, when it was customary for the person having his or her head cut off to pay the executioner a few pieces of silver to ensure a clean, sharp swing of the blade.

I thought it best not to return their smiles. Instead I mustered my best condescending teacher face to remind them of who they were really cheering for. That sobered several of them, casting a dark gloom over our entrance until I was well out of sight.

Central's teachers, along with the troubled staffs from a few other schools, were assigned the nose bleed section of the venue, far out of the camera's gaze, . Our gum chewing, unshaven faces, cussing and untucked shirts were noticed by those closest to us. Their stares were met with excellently aimed spit balls. There is no saving us. We climbed the mountain. We saw the promised land, and then decided to have a sit down and nap.

Mrs. Abigail Timms receiving forgiveness for spending her entire summer doing nothing classroom related,no inservice classes, no extra reading, and no university courses. She even bypassed her grade level's correlation bonus days. "The Summer's idleness be GONE FROM YOU!" the administrator shouted.
She fell backwards, felt the call, and ran around the congregation four times shouting, "The fire is in my heart!" while waving a white handkerchief high over her head as a sign of surrender and rebirth. Many "Hallelujahs" followed.

It's getting late here at the Space Center. We are in the middle of our last Super Overnight Camp of the Summer Season. The halls are darkened and layed out for awesome away teams. Emily and her staff have things in control, giving me the chance to lay down in the Magellan and rest my eyes for a moment before putting the campers to bed.