Brother Alex Departs for Penn's Land. Another Troubadour Leaves the Troope.

Brother Alex Goes Forth to Serve.

The nun's chorus echoed throughout the chapel. All rose from bended knee and prayer. Master Alex, now Brother Alex, had donned the robes of the monk and pilgrim. He turned from the alter to face the congregation; and with the Bishop's blessing, walked from the alter toward the heavy oak doors and into the January day.

Our band of Troubadours gathered around the ox cart to bid our fellow Troubadour a final adieu. Brother Alex warmly shook each hand and offered words of encouragement and comfort.

"You shall do fine. My parting may be noticed, but only momentarily, like a feather drifting to the Earth. Master Matthew was an able disciple and I trust you in his great care." Brother Alex put his hand on Master Matthew's shoulder as if bestowing his powers upon him.

Master Matthew spoke. "I shall do my best to fill your place, but may I speak for all and repeat that you will be missed."

"Then that sorrow in departure is a testament to the friends and good fellows I leave behind. And now I must bid adieu. It is a long journey to Penn's Land and there is much work to do." Alex jumped into the cart. His brown woolen robes looked odd and uncomfortable upon his body. He sat in the straw, and with cross in hand, offered a friar's blessing to his fellow Troubadours.

"A final gift to you," I stepping from the gathering when his blessing was complete and placed a parchment into his hand. "May this prayer keep you in His care when the days are at their darkest. Be safe Brother, for the world outside these gates can be as dangerous as they are marvelous."

"I shall. And now Goodbye." Brother Alex tapped the shoulder of the carts man. The cart lurched forward, it's wheels rattled on the cobblestone as it turned and then disappeared through the castle's gate. Brother Alex unrolled the parchment and read.

Disturb us, Lord, when
We are too pleased with ourselves,
When our dreams have come true
Because we dreamed too little,
When we arrived safely
Because we sailed too close to the shore.

Disturb us, Lord, when
with the abundance of things we possess
We have lost our thirst
For the waters of life;
Having fallen in love with life,
We have ceased to dream of eternity
And in our efforts to build a new earth,
We have allowed our vision
Of the new Heaven to dim.

Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly,
To venture on wilder seas
Where storms will show Your mastery;
Where losing sight of land,
We shall find the stars.

We ask you to push back
The horizons of our hopes;
And to push back the future
In strength, courage, hope, and love.

This we ask in the name of our Captain,
Who is Jesus Christ.

Sir Francis Drake (1577)

Brother Alex rolled the parchment and carefully put it into his knapsack. He stretched out upon the straw and looked into the deep blue of God's sky.

"There be a blanket beneath the staw if needed Brother," the carts man said as he shifted his weight on the bench. It would be a long trek to the river.

"I thank you, but the day is warm." There was a pause. Brother Alex sat up and watched a group of children playing near a grouping of thatched huts beside the road. He remembered his time on stage bringing story and music to hundreds of children like them from one of the of the Kingdom to the other.

"It is a good day for a journey, is it not?" Brother Alex spoke with contentment.

"That it is Brother. That it is," the cartsman replied.

On Wednesday, Alex Anderson enters the MTC in Provo to train to serve as an LDS missionary in Pennsylvania. Alex started at the Space Center as a young teenager, following in his older brother's footsteps. He quickly found his niche in the Programming Guild. From there he ventured into Flight Director. He became the Phoenix Set Director when Megan Warner left to serve an LDS mission in South Korea.

Alex's handiwork can be found on the computer screens in the Magellan, Phoenix, Galileo and Odyssey. He was a dedicated and devoted member of our staff. We all wish him the best as he serves his church on this two year mission.

Mr. W. and the rest of "The Troubadours".

My Name Revealed! The Shocking Truth Behind that Name!

The Victor Pose is Catching

Bracken Funk


Jon did what in the loft?

Bracken did what on deck 2?

Kyle spent what on the Galileo?

Alex did what to the school network?

Beverly did what to the sickbay?

Hello Troops,
Thank you Bracken for the picture and five lines of commentary (above). He labeled it "The Victor Pose". While hinting at cleverness and sparking with imagination, I must take offense at Bracken's unwarranted revelation. I've been exposed as a Victor.

Victor is nearly a dead name in the United States. Think about it. How many Victors do you know? Several, If you lived in Russia or Latin America. Well, thanks to Bracken, you all know one of the few left alive in the United States. Mind you, I'm not ashamed of my name; it just seems to date me to the mid 1950's.


My mother named me after a movie star called Victor Mature (Google it if you must). I confess to sharing several of Victor Mature's attributes (it has been mentioned that I ooze in acting talent like a blister about to pop), yet I still wait for Hollywood's call. Let me state here and now that when that call comes, I promise to take many of you little people with me. I just hope Hollywood doesn't wait too long. I'm past the age where a respectable agent would cast me as a dashing young hero; mind you, it wouldn't take much make up and plastic surgery to make it nearly so. What I could do is play someone in the throws of a mid life crisis. I do 'crisis' well with all the experience I've had running the Space Center.

Speaking of Crisis....... it has been a remarkably quiet second week of January. I'm almost ready to state that our luck has changed. Fortuna seems to be more occupied with dumping several feet of snow on avalanched Alaska than tormenting us at the Space Center.

I couldn't let this Friday the 13th pass without some kind of misfortune. For the first time in living memory I dropped a full gallon of 1% milk on the floor this morning as I put the food and drink away for the Overnight Camp. It exploded in the cafeteria's wash room. A tidal wave of milk poured out and covered the floor. Milk spittle covered the walls and my black Nikes. It was a mess. What was your Friday the 13th Story? Can you top that?

It is time for bed. The campers are all asleep as well as the staff. I sit alone, typing away, on guard duty at our Little Camp in the Big Dark Woods.

Mr. V. Williamson

How Many Other Things Are We Missing?

Washington, DC Metro Station on a cold January morning in 2007. The man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time approx. 2 thousand people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. After 3 minutes a middle aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried to meet his schedule. 4 minutes later: The violinist received his first dollar: a woman threw the money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk. 6 minutes: A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again. 10 minutes: A 3-year old boy stopped but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children.

Every parent, without exception, forced their children to move on quickly. 45 minutes: The musician played continuously. Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32. 1 hour: He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before Joshua Bell sold out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100.

This is a true story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people's priorities. The questions raised: *In a common place environment at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty? *Do we stop to appreciate it? *Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context? One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this: If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made. How many other things are we missing?