Things to Know and Things to Consider at the Start of the Week.

Hello Troops,
Yikes, do I dare leave the "those who can teach" pin at the top of this post?  Some might declare it questionable and order its immediate removal on pain of death.  Others may see if offensive to our illustrious law makers who gather yearly to find ways to make teaching more difficult than it was the year before.  I wonder if there isn't a secret office somewhere in Salt Lake City and Washington staffed by people who have one purpose in life - to find ways to burden overworked and underpaid teachers with more curriculum than there are days to teach, more students than they can reach, and more parental responsibilities they shouldn't be burdened with.

The fact that the photo is still crowning this post means I made the right decision.

Moving along.....

We have something to celebrate today (a good excuse for a post, wouldn't you say?).

This is James Smith.  James is pictured above receiving his navy blue Flight Director's shirt from Her Graciousness, Odyssey Set Director, Christine.  This honor makes James the Odyssey's newest ordained Flight Director.

Her Graciousness, Christine, The First of Her Name, proclaimed last Saturday James Smith day here in Wonderland.  Everyone at the Space Center had to bow as he passed and, upon pain of banishment, refer to him as Sir James.   

Sir James is shown in the photograph above receiving enthusiastic praise and applause from collared nobles and black shirted peasants.  I'm standing in the background surveying the staff and volunteers, looking for anyone showing disrespect.  Occasionally we have a volunteer unaware of the reverence required toward a newly collared Knight of the Realm.  These poor unfortunates are taken from the room, flogged and returned very repentant - never to make such a mistake again.

I found one, his name was Jordan, the younger brother of revered James.  He was in the back snickering at the accolades showered upon his older brother.  I snapped my fingers and pointed him out.  Two Collared Knights responded, pushing chairs and tables out of their way to apprehend him.  The solemn assembly was briefly interrupted by his weeping and wailing for forgiveness.  I was moved by his sincerity and called for silence and his temporary release.

I turned to Sir James.  "Sir James, this kinsman of yours has shown you disrespect.  I leave his fate to you.  Shall he go free and return to his chair yonder or shall he be taken at once to the tower for flogging?

James thought for a moment, then spoke slowly and deliberately.
"Off with his head!" 
The room went deathly quiet.  Jordan fainted.  Even I was astonished at the severity of the sentence.  A moment or two passed before James spoke again.
"Just kidding.  Flog him and leave him in the cell.  I'll pick him up on my way home."

The room erupted in cheers at Jordan's reprieve.  Jordan regained consciousness.

"Your brother has saved your neck from a fatal meeting with the executioner's blade. 'Tis a flogging only!" someone shouted from the crowd.

"A flogging only?" Jordan whimpered toward his brother. Sir James nodded.

"Thank you Sir.  Oh, Thank you for the flogging I'm about to receive."  Jordan's face brightened and continued to beam as he was escorted from the room.  James held out his arms signalling his desire for another round of applause.

It was another wonderful day here at the Space Center.     

And now, The Troubadour is pleased to present the following pictures demonstrating your indebtedness to the Engineers of this world (told in picture form for many of our younger volunteers who suffer from a condition that makes them fearful of too many words and letters on a printed page or screen).   

And Now,
What the World would be like without Engineers

And how about another reason to take the extra time to master math.....

Don't know exactly how to describe this, but I'll have a go....
The picture below is the alter at the Cathedral of Gaming.  Services held daily after school and all weekend long.

I know this is how Emily feels when she locks horns with Kyle and Casey :)

The world's most accurate watch

Memorize this so you can use it then next time your parents get all over you for doing something ridiculously stupid.

Once again, I give this sign respect for creativity and imagination.

I'd buy my gas here to encourage this kind of thinking (up to a point, as long as its price was within two cents of its local competitors and its fountain drink section had pebble ice and a dizzying assortment of flavors).

Have a Great Week!

Mr. W.

The Space Center by Flight Director, Bracken Funk

Hello Troops,  

Bracken gave me permission to repost this essay on the Space Center written for his personal blog.  I enjoyed the read, except for the disparaging remarks about my state of mind and the extremely unflattering photo of me taken during one of my restorative sessions at my desk - necessary to maintain my calm and unflustered demeanor ; 
Mr. W.

And Now Bracken's Post

Last night, and into this morning, I worked an overnighter at the Space Center. These are my favorite of camps. I like the ability to establish the feel of being in an actual vessel, and crewing it. There is character development, and there is time to strike fear into the hearts of the crew. These overnighters are the best of our product, and I enjoy them so.

Crew of the Voyager during an Overnight Mission

The Space Center has given me tons of opportunities that I would never have had otherwise. I love to work with the kids, and watch them grow over the course of one of our missions. Just by way of information, here at the space center we do simulations in the universe of Star Trek. What you're looking at here is the bridge of the starship Voyager. She was built in 1990 by Victor Williamson, and if you want to hear me tell you why he's awesome, click here. He wanted to incorporate simulation into educational experiences. He was and is an educator, and he started doing this "simulational education" idea with his 6th grade class using paper and poster board controls. He would sit behind his desk on the floor, and play the voices of the computer, his engineer, and the alien characters the crew would encounter. His class loved it, and he wanted to evolve the idea to an actual starship set. Voyager was born, and since 1990, the Christa McAuliffe Space Education Center has grown through 7 simulators, thousands of campers, and bulls forward today.

Today, the Center has 5 simulators, each with their own set of stories, controls, and ideas. We host nearly 1,200 kids a week, and teach them different problem solving, situational skills and social studies. It really is a joy to work with them, and even learn from them.

I found the Space Center in Elementary School. I had done missions in 5th grade, and came back multiple times with my friends. I was already in love with the place. When I was in 6th grade we came to do an overnighter, and I realized that I wanted to be here a lot. Back in those days, the volunteer pool wasn't overfilled, so I applied to volunteer a couple of weeks later. I remember that day well. It was a Saturday morning, about 11. My sister had a soccer game. I was in my cleats, and shorts and a t-shirt. Her game was at Central Elementary's field. I had a soccer ball, and I was kicking it around. I accidentally kicked it down the hill in the back, and when I looked over as I chased it, I saw Mr. Williamson outside taking out the trash. I ran over to my mother, and begged her to let me go talk to him (she had to give me permission to breathe as a child, which I appreciated then. It kept me from being kidnapped, or worse). She was against it at first, but I continued to beg. She allowed me to go, and I sprinted over to the door. Out of breath, I begged this powerful looking man to let me work at the center.

I can only imagine what it looked like from Mr. Williamson's point of view. This lanky kid runs up to you, in soccer gear, cleats, and panting asks "hey, Mr. Williamson, can I volunteer, here?" Knowing what I know of him now, I would say that his hesitation was annoyance, but he doesn't have it in him to say "no" to kids that have a desire to work here. He just doesn't have the heart for it. 

Victor Williamson in his natural habitat. Looking Distinguished

He stared at me blankly for a moment. I said, "please!". He said, "I'm sure we could find a place for you." And we entered through the door in which the brig is located, and came into the office to receive his schpeel on becoming a volunteer.

Once again, knowing what I know now, I doubt that he thought I would actually return these documents. Who could blame him- I was dressed in soccer gear, and didn't look all that responsible. However, within 4 days, it was back in his hands at the very same desk you see above.

Me, today, holding my original volunteer submission from 10 years ago.

I thought it would be fun to retype my original submission so that you can see how much evolution has occurred in my head:

Dear Christa McAuliffe Space Education Center,

My name is Bracken Funk, I love the Space Center; a very creative idea!!!

I love Star Trek, Star Trek The Next Generation and Star Trek Voyager, I know a great deal about each which helps because that is what you based the Space Center on!! I want to work at the Space Center because I enjoy learning about different things about space!!

I also am a great leader, for example, any time we play German Spy Dodgeball; my team always asms ME who the spy is going to be. I accomplish my work and get good grades!

I have also worked in the Student Council at Barratt!! (I wish I were at Central!!!)

I really want to work at the Space Center!

Sincerely,

Bracken Funk

I laugh when I read this now. That describes me pretty well. I'm a little less in your face with everything, and I feel a little more mellow, but there you go. That was me. 

I asked Vic what he thought about this particular day in Space Center history, these were his words about it: 

I had no thoughts. You were just a kid, and you just asked to be a volunteer. 

What do you want from me?

So apparently he doesn't care about such things. However, that isn't the most concerning of things to me, he's become senile over the last few years, and his memory is failing him. That's ok. He has earned such rights.

Yes. Senility.

At least he doesn't show up for work late. Anyways, I have now worked here for about 10 years. I have enjoyed every minute of it. There have been rough spots, and tough people, but even that has been a learning and growing experience. There is no better place to work than the Space Center.

So here is to 10 years of volunteering/working/playing at the space center. Thanks to all of those who have stood behind me when I was obnoxious, worked with me when I was bossy, and helped me when I was beaten.

Bracken Funk

A Midnight Post From my Desk. It is Good to Be Back.

Hello Troops,
The disturbance in the Force has been corrected.  After several weeks of sleeping in the gym, the boys on tonight's Overnight Camp are sleeping in the ship.  There are more boys than girls, and everyone knows that the larger of the two groups always sleeps in the Voyager.

I have access to my desk and a fairly quiet room surrounding me.  The gym is louder with every noise amplified by the volume of the room.  I still have to content with what I think are the brightest EXIT signs in in the free world and air conditioners made for rooms twice the size of my classroom (I think the District purchased them used from NASA's wind tunnels at Moffit Field, California).  The best thing is knowing that I won't be woken up in the middle of the night by a collapsing cot caused by a careless boy who wasn't listening to my 'How To Get Into a Space Center Cot' demonstration given before lights out. 

"Attention, Attention.  Stand by for a demonstration on the proper procedure for entering and exiting a Space Center Cot."  The boys give me that 'are you serious' look.  I continue.  "To enter a cot one first finds the exact center of the cot.  I suggest you look for the center set of legs.  Once the exact center is found, one sits down carefully, not wanting to rock the cot too much.  Think of getting in and out of an unstable row boat. Once seated, you may then turn 90 degrees and stretch out.  Use the same procedure when exiting a cot.  Your cot will not collapse in these procedures are followed exactly."

When I'm sleeping in front of my desk the only thing I listen for are sleepwalking boys who open one of the emergency exits in a bid for freedom from whatever haunts their sleep.  Oh, there is also the thing I listen for, a boy tumbling from the top tier of our 3 level bunk beds.  The fall can be nasty and painful if one measures true pain by the amount of weeping and wailing produced by the injured camper. 

Jon Parker just disturbed my solitude and wistful enjoyment of sitting at my desk as the clock struck midnight.

"This broke off the Voyager Right Wing desk," he said while holding up a long section of the blue trim surrounding the Voyager's desk top.  I wondered if this was his calculated attempt at ruining my night.  I'm tired, its late and I've much to write and even more to do.  I wanted to take the long blue shard and play out a scene I affectionately call 'Victor, the Vampire Slayer' where killing the messenger is common fare.

My brain went into work mode.  I thought of the time it would take to have the District's wood shop make a new desk top.  My calculations indicated there was at least a 90% chance I wouldn't live long enough to see the repair completed to my satisfaction.  I handed Jon a roll of clear plastic packing tape and a pair of scissors.

"Do the best you can," I ordered. I asked him to document the midnight repair for a special PBS documentary on 'The Insane and How They Hide Among Us."

 The Damaged Desk.  You can see the large shard missing from the bottom of the blue trim.

Jon is holding the shard into place while he peels off a section of packing tape and applies it using an elbow as a brace. 

    

Jon's adds a few finishing touches before calling the repair compete.

I'll have all our inquisitive Troubadour readers know how proud we are of the fact that many sections of our simulators are held together with tape, wire and generous amounts of prayer fussed over by our more religiously inclined staff and volunteers.  You'll never know where the repairs are unless you look long and hard.  We have a policy to counter snoops like that.  We go to red alert, switch to red lights and release the dreaded Slime Devil.  Moments later, the snooping child is showered with Slime Devil venom from our Enola Gay Atomic Action Water Blaster.  Down to Sick Bay he goes for a lengthy recovery.  A recovery not even a generous amount of M&M's can shorten. 

Well, its time for bed.  I'm tired and ready for some down time with my pad, pillows and blankets waiting for me on the floor in front of my desk!  

Mr. W.