The Red Blemish and Other Things. A Sunday Post.

This past week Bracken Funk got to meet The Red Blemish, his favorite superhero. The Red Blemish fights crime from his secret headquarters in his parent's basement. The Red Blemish stopped by the Space Education Center after hearing we were having problems with young delinquents , their chewing gum and our carpets. (Word has it the Red Blemish was pulled over by Pleasant Grove's Police Department after leaving the Space Center and ticketed for duct taping over his scooter's license plate to conceal his identity).

Hello Troops,
We finished the first week of school without any major inconveniences. Let's take a moment to give Fortuna a wink and a nod in thanks for leaving the Space Center alone and focusing her mischiefs on the eastern seaboard of the United States. We are impressed - aren't we? In one week they experienced an earthquake and hurricane. No wonder its been so quiet in Pleasant Grove.

I was going to post the latest Space Center pictures (news and honors) but forgot my camera at the school. Sunday is my day of leisure, laziness and slothfulness; that means I won't drive to the school to get the pictures. I realize the disappointment might be more than you can manage, but I've got my "I don't give a darn" shirt on and, well, that's about it. You'll have to wait.

Instead I've decided to take you with me on a walk through around the Imaginarium to see what we can see. Slip on your shoes and let's see how creative people can be.


Does this seem strangely familiar? You got it! The control rooms of the Voyager and Magellan.
There are more similarities than differences :)

I know the staff are thinking I'm in that crowd watching and 'managing'. Well, what you don't see in the picture above is another hole twice a deep and wide just to the left and out of the camera's view. I'm the one at the bottom of that hole laboring in a cloud of dust and dirt, setting an example for all. Yes sir, setting an example for all. Please, no applause............... Thank you.




Hello, I'm a teenager and I'm indestructible. Nothing can hurt me. I spit in the face of gravity and common sense. I laugh at reason. Rational thinking won't find a home in my devolving brain. I'm a teenager. Watch me roar............ (Stupid, Stupid and Stupid. This young man and Nature are on a collision course and it won't be pretty).

My thoughts on Facebook Friends. Are you with me?

Target has a special on previously parented kids. 3 for $10 is quite a steal. Look they can read and know how to sit quietly. Better hurry - there are only three left.

For you Battlestar Fans.

True, how true.

The power of a Space Center worker's mind should be labeled dangerous. We should be required to wear stickers, warning the general population to stand back at least four feet away. Our brains, and the power of the thoughts that emanate from them, have been known to cause hallucinations and minor nose bleeding.




Wonderland Primary School had picture day yesterday. Albus Arnold doesn't care for school pictures, as evident in Room 7's class photo. After three failed attempts to garnish even the slightest smile from his weaned on a pickle appearance, his teacher had an epiphany.

"Albus, we're going to the Space Center on a field trip this year!"

Albus frown turned upside down into the best smile he's ever given a school picture. His parent's were so pleased to finally have a good picture of Albus to put on their living room's wall they volunteered to pay for the entire field trip themselves.

Etc. etc. and etc.

Have a Great Sunday and I'll see many of you this week in the trenches.

Mr. W.

A Mystery Called Aleta.

Aleta Clegg with her Universally Famous Paklid Pizza.
A Special Dessert for her Favorite Campers.
Children on her Naughty List are given the uneaten Twinkies from last year's camps.

Hello Troops,

Many ask, "How did she do it? How did one person manage our summer camp kitchen and feed 75 people three meals a day (we're not talking corn hash on a bun. We mean three good meals)?"

In a recent drinking fountain staff discussion I heard some hypothesize that Aleta Clegg must be a classically trained witch capable of managing multiple summer camp meals by flicking her Olivander Wand and pronouncing incantations with perfect elocution.

Another said he had inside information about Aleta from someone who knows someone who is related to someone who is related to Aleta. His source said that Aleta secretly hired extra kitchen help and kept them out of sight when others were around to maintain the illusion that she worked miracles.

"She is Mary Poppins," one of our younger volunteers said. "Practically perfect in every way."

A Flight Director wishing to remain anonymous listened intently. "She never went to bed. That's how she did it. One night I heard someone in the cafeteria at 4:00 A.M. I went to investigate - didn't find anything except the faint smell of Lemon Verbena."

"That's the kind of hand lotion she uses," another added. "Makes it herself from her own garden," another added.

Suffice to say, Aleta is a mystery. Previous attempts to figure her out have led to fainting spells and dementia. Doctors recommend we "Leave it alone."

Our Paklid Pizza.
"Yummy," said one camper. "I love red vines!"
"My mom won't let me eat pizza," said another. "Tomato paste gives me an upset tummy and I'm lactose intolerant. I'll have a cookie please - if they don't have nuts. Nuts make me break out in hives."


Aleta serving supper on the second night of an EdVenture Camp.


Happy Campers preparing to "dive in".
The fresh pineapple seems to confuse this camper.
"What's wrong with this pineapple?" he asked. "Does it come out of a can?
We only eat things that come out of a can."

Happy Campers waiting for their supper.
(professional models).
While our campers are usually this cheerful, we thought it
best to hire professional child models to ensure a good picture.

Our staff mingle with the campers during meal times (ignore the fact that they are on one side of the table and the campers are on the other).


Our flight directors enjoy each other's company after a good meal in the camp cafeteria. Notice their jovial mood. Good food means a happy staff. A happy staff means happy campers. Happy campers means a happy Mr. Williamson. All because of Aleta Clegg - Pleasant Grove's very own Wonder Woman.

Casey comes to the Space Center for all his meals, even if he is not assigned to work. Yes, the food is that good.

"Je suis l'aimer. Bon Appetit!" as Casey likes to say before diving in.

"S'en aller. tu me dérange pas," is added if you linger too long while he is eating. Casey prefers to dine alone, except for a single candle (not seen because the school district banned open flames in the school. He keeps a Bic lighter in his pocket and lights it when no one is looking. We turn a blind eye, its Casey after all).

Have a Great Weekend!
Mr. W.

Announcing a New Space Education Center Program. Open Missions!

Armilda Breeze and her son Wilbur always wanted to come to a Space Center Party but couldn't.

I spoke with Armilda and Wilbur from my seat on the Wonderland Ferris Wheel. The Ferris Wheel is a great place to go and think through mission plots and scenarios while enjoying a good corn dog and snow cone.

"It was always a problem trying to get a group of people together who could come at the same time, now we can," Armilda said. We conversed while waiting for the Ferris Wheel to start moving.

Armilda was referring to the Space Center's new Open Mission Program, giving individuals and small groups an opportunity to attend the 2.5 hour party missions without having to put together a large group.

"Yes, Finally. No more stupid Ferris Wheel!" Wilbur shouted as he surveyed the grounds below looking for an unsuspected person to spit on. I saw him lock eyes on a pretty blonde girl roughly his age waiting in the line to board the Ferris Wheel.

Wilbur spit. The drippings missed the girl and landed in a boy's cotton candy. He looked up and held out his hand thinking it was the first drop of an incoming shower. Wilbur ducked down out of sight. Armilda realized what he'd done and slapped him on the back of his head. Armilda isn't one to allow spitting from a Ferris Wheel.

"Please excuse Wilbur. He has many of his father's grotesque mannerisms," she said apologetically.

I nodded and made a mental note to watch for Wilbur at the Space Center. I wanted to be sure to put him on any ship but the one I'd be flying.

For more information on Open Missions, look at the top of the Blog's right side bar and come and join Armilda and Wilbur on an Open Mission at the Space Center. Mind you, Wilbur was grounded for spitting so you may have to wait a week or two if you want to go with him.