The Troubadour

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

THE SPACE CENTER REOPENS FOR FIELD TRIPS!

The Heroes of the Space Center

Today's Staff for the Grand Reopening (minus Mrs. Houston, Mrs. Clegg and Matt Ricks)

Megan, Connor, Aliah, Zac

Hello Troops,

The Space Center reopened today with Mrs. Johnson's sixth grade class from Central Elementary. Because the Magellan and Phoenix are our only two operating ships, we can only take one class per day. Half the class flew in the Magellan while the other half had their class and planetarium show. The two teams switch places at lunchtime. This was the Magellan's first crew since it docked at Starbase One for repairs and renovation at the end of July.

Mrs. Houston and Mrs. Clegg are back to teach the class and planetarium lessons. Zac Hirschi and Megan Warner are back to fight direct. Devin Sudwicks and Connor L., are back to supervise in the Magellan. Connor L., Aliah E., Megan V., and Tregan E., are back as volunteers and Matt Ricks is our tech and programmer. These folks are the life blood of the Space Center.

Today was a happy day, but it wasn't without its trials.

10:30 A.M.
I walked into the Discovery Room from teaching my math class. Mrs. Houston was busy teaching the Electromagnetic Spectrum Lesson to her group. Things looked perfectly normal, just what I expected. We've had 22 years of outstanding field trip experience.

10:30:10 A.M.
I walk into the Magellan Control Room. Things seemed calm, but I could tell from the electricity in the air that they weren't.
"No, no, no," I heard Megan exclaim in her exhausted "I've tried everything and it still doesn't work" voice The video preview monitor wasn't working - among a dozen or so other things. Off in the distance, I heard the faint sound of a woman's laughter. The sound bore through my eardrums and lodged in my head.
"Did you year that?" Megan asked while swapping an S-video cable with an RCA cord.
"Yes," I answered.
"Is that a woman laughing."
"It'sYou Know Who." I knew Megan knew who You Know Who was. Her face went pale.
It was Fortuna, laughing at us from high upon Mt. Olympus, taunting us as we feebly attempted to circumvent her mischievousness and reopen the Space Center.
"Not today. Hasn't she done enough? Doesn't she ever get tired of us?" Megan mumbled as she click every button on the video switcher, trying to get some kind of an image to magically appear on the video monitor.

For those of you new to The Troubadour, Fortuna has visited the Space Center from time to time over the past 22 years. She brings the Glitch Sisters with her as traveling companions. The Glitches specialize in creative and unusual ways to bring any organization to its knees.

11:00 A.M.
The mission started. Zac took his seat as Flight Director. I sat in the 2nd Chair, feeling unsure of myself. You see, the Voyager was my ship of 22 years. I knew that ship inside and out. I could give the Glitches a real run for their money in the Voyager; well, not any more. Now, I'm a fish out of water. I'm working in the Magellan at the mercy of Zac and Megan.

That's me saying

"I didn't do it, Don't blame me. The computer did it."

Megan hovered overhead trying to find out why nothing worked. It was working last night when it was tested, and now it wasn't. This was typical Fortuna and the Glitches.

The mission started. I tried to keep up with Zac and the 15 students I was tracking through two computer screens. I typed, answered the phone and did my best to figure out the complex Magellan video system.

Yes, that's my 'help me' look of panic.

Dave Daymont took the picture, laughed at my predicament and left.

Megan and Zac were kind. They kept their impatience at my stumbling to themselves. They didn't hurl derogatory remarks when I missed a que. They helped any way they could as this old dog struggled to learn new tricks. Connor, Aleta and Aliah did a great job on the bridge, keeping the mission moving along.

Megan hovering. Her hands were all over that wall.

Megan and Zac got us though the day. Both have been with me for several years.

They are true, Space Center Pros.

12:00 P.M.
We got through the first mission. It was rough. Hardly anything worked as it should. Our flight group seemed oblivious to the panic behind the wall. To our amazement, they enjoyed the mission. They gave us a cheer! During the transition between flight groups, Megan and Zac worked on the bullet "to do" list. I got the other team and prepped them for boarding.

Zac at the Flight Station

12:45 P.M.
The second mission started. Someone was looking after us, because things went much better. Yes, there were still a few glitches here and there, but overall, the second mission went 80% better. I was happy, although still bewildered at the complexity of the Magellan. I'll be honest - I miss the sweet simplicity of our fine old lady, the Voyager.

Dave Daymont caught Megan laughing with Zac at my performance.

They both loved seeing me squirm!

It was fun working in a control room again. It was fun hearing the sounds of children totally engaged in a mission. It was exhilarating feeling the familiar adrenaline rush which comes from telling a Space Center story. It was reassuring to feel the Space Center's spirit again. Indeed, what a magical place this is; a place of great pride, imagination, creativity and accomplishment.

What lies ahead? Now we work toward building a new Space Center, still a few years down the road. As a private non profit organization, our Space EdVentures Foundation will work to find ways to bring the Space Center experience back to the general public through private missions and day camps. This way, everyone in our communities can benefit from the Center's reopening.

Just think, for the first time in six months, children will have a hard time sleeping tonight because they know tomorrow is their turn to go on the best field trip in the State of Utah. It is their Space Center Day!

Sunday, February 10, 2013

My Night With the Republicans. Space and Science News. The Imaginarium. Two Good Videos.

Hello Troops,
My phone rang Friday evening. "Herring" was spelled out on the caller ID screen. I decided to answer.
"Hey Vic."
"Hey."
"What are you doing tomorrow night?" Kyle's voice was upbeat. I paused for a moment to consider my options. I could quickly make something up, or I could tell the truth and cross my fingers whatever he was about to suggest would either tolerable, digestible, or both.

"Nothing, what's up?" I answered.

"Heather [a member of our Space EdVentures Foundation Board] has an extra ticket for you to the Lincoln Day Banquet at UVU tomorrow night. Do you want to go?"

Long story short, I tried everything I could think of to get out of saying yes. Then Kyle hit me with a point of logic I couldn't argue away. If our new Space EdVentures Foundation was to ever raise money to rent the simulators from the school district for private missions and camps, someone like me had to get out there and press the flesh.

"Network, network network," he hit me over and over again in a machine gun verbal assault.
After hanging up, I cursed the fact that I committed to venture far outside my comfort zone to rub shoulders with the top dogs of Utah County's Republican Party with cap in hand, hoping for a lead to that promised land of unlimited funds for worthy projects.

Heather called right after I hung up with Kyle. "I know this is outside your comfort zone," she assured me, "but you'll do fine. I'll introduce you to the Governor. It will be good chance to network."

Now, Fast Forward to Saturday Night.

I drove all over UVU's campus looking for the right building. The campus was different from the last time I was there. Feeling frustrated, I parked at the Events Center and walked into one of the buildings. I found a campus map. The ballroom was easy to spot. What I couldn't find was where I was; the map was missing the big arrow and sticker saying "You are Here". The hallways were empty. I felt like the lone survivor in an end of the world movie.

A student approached.

"Excuse me, can you tell me where the ballroom is?" I asked. He looked confused. "How about the bookstore. The ballroom is next to it," I explained.

His face lit up with understanding. "Go down this hall to the end, turn left and keep going. I think the bookstore is down that hall. I don't know how far, but you can't miss it. It says bookstore."
Did he think I was a simpleton? Of course the Bookstore would say Bookstore.

I thanked him and started my adventure.   The hallway stretched on forever. It was like one of those forever expanding corridors you see in an Alfred Hitchcock movie. It kept going and going and going. I wondered if it eventually came to an end near the WalMart a mile or two away.

I passed an elderly couple siting side by side in the semi dark hallway. They looked up at me from their chairs. The woman smiled. Her lips were parched. They looked completely spent, as if they'd been there a week or two - lost in the never ending labyrinth I had just entered.

I returned her smile and kept walking and walking, and walking. After a few minutes, I reached a fork in the hallway. I paused to catch my breath. Robert Frost's poem came to mind, "The woods are lovely, dark and deep and I have miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep".

I remembered the student's directions and took the left fork, it was the road less traveled. I was definitely on an adventure. The lights in the hallway got brighter a few more minutes into my quest. Human voices permeated the void. I had discovered intelligent life! I found the ballroom! Hundreds of Utah County's rich and powerful swarmed in front of me. They were the big wigs of the Republican Party - gathered to network, rub shoulders, share stories and decide the fate of every living, and soon to be dead, citizen of Utah.

I was way out of my comfort zone. I didn't know a living soul. They were not my people. I was Daniel, in a foreign land. I was examined from top to toe by several pairs of eyes as I advanced toward the registration table. I was an anomaly. I was a mystery. They were trying to place me into one of their social circles, and had no luck in doing so. I found my name tag and clipped it to my suit coat pocket.

"Network, network, network...." I thought to myself. My heart beat faster. My blood pressure rose. I decided to make a tactical retreat to the bathroom to regroup. I emerged a few minutes later with a renewed confidence. "Network, network network," I kept repeating to myself as I walked back into the lion's den. Several people passed me, still confused as to who I was. My name tag wasn't helping either. I saw a few empty chairs near the entrance to the ballroom. I thought to drop anchor in a chair for a few minutes to review my situation (any harbor in a storm). I sat down and looked at my watch. The night seemed like it would never end. I harnessed my uneasiness and wiped a bit of moisture from my upper lip and forehead.

My nose picked up a few strange smells as I waited for the dinner to start. The first scent was a very distinct back of the closet smell. You know the place - where you keep the clothes you rarely wear. I rarely wear suits. I realized it was me who I was smelling.
"Lovely," I thought to myself. "Here I am, smelling like a cross between mothballs and Old Spice, at the very heart of local government power."

The other smell striking a claim to my nose, reminded me of a bank. It was the smell of money- copious amounts of money. It wasn't a bad smell, but very noticeable.

I chucked to myself. Here I was, a member of Roosevelt's Bull Moose Party, sitting at the very heart of right wing conservatism. And how out of place I must have looked. I notice how perfect everyone appeared; shining shoes, shining Rolex watches, shining jewels, twinkling (recently whitened) teeth, perfectly combed hair with just the right amount of gel to thwart the mischief of any unwelcomed breeze. I noticed how friendly everyone was with each other. Not only were hands being shook, but shoulders were being embraced and arm's gently squeezed in over the top acts of familiarity.

"Networking. These people are networking!" The obvious dawned on me. I knew I had to stand up and start networking for our foundation.

"May we begin." Someone announced from the ballroom. I stood up, looked at my name tag, saw I was assigned to table 20, took a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other. A sign over the ballroom double doors read "Leaving the Comfort Zone."

Table 20 was smack dab in the front middle of the ballroom. I sat down at the empty table.   The rolls looked delicious. Another plate held a variety of pastries. Everything was perfect. I felt I had just entered Downtown Abbey. In my mind's eye I could see the huddle masses outside in the cold of a winter's night, starving, while I sat surrounded by wealth and plenty.

"Network, network, network." The words kept coming back to me. But there was no one to network with. I was the only person at my table. I felt a bit of panic. The other tables were a buzz with the sounds of networking. The only sounds at my table were crickets and a distant crow.

It was time to stand for the color guard. I was the only person standing at my table. The other tables were nearly full. We said the Pledge of Allegiance. I was still alone. I felt a spotlight pointed at the bald spot on top of my head. I was becoming very uncomfortable. The national anthem was performed by one of the Osmonds. I was still the lone occupant of table 20.

I felt my fight or flight instinct take hold. I knew I was going to do something. Would I fight? Would I make a fool of myself and walk up to the microphone at the front of the room and say, "I'm here to network. Does anyone want to network with me?" Or, would I 'flight' and make a run for it. I hesitated for a moment, then made a beeline out of the ballroom.

I reentered the real world. I felt a huge weight lift from my shoulders. As I navigated the long hallway, I passed a dozen or so students who looked just as lower middle class as myself. "These are my people," I thought.

I write this to apologize to everyone for failing at my first attempt to network. At least give me credit for trying. It isn't easy, just try it sometime - solo might I add.

We soldier on into a new week and reopen for field trips. I'll do better at field trips. Hiding behind a wall with a microphone in hand is more my style.

Have a Great Week!

Mr. Williamson

Space and Science News

Asteroid to Get Very Close

An asteroid, measuring 150ft (50m) across, called 2012 DA14 will flyby our planet on 15 Feb, 2013. At its closest point, it’ll be a mere 17,200 miles from Earth, about 5000 miles closer than our satellites that sit in geosynchronous orbit. That is, in fact, the closest pass by any asteroid known in advance.

Question is, will it hit us? – The answer is, no according to NASA.

NASA Tells You Why We Are Safe:

➤ L#1: http://is.gd/8ZtYrH
➤ L#2: http://is.gd/BcHdvh
➤ L#3: http://is.gd/Mm9Uap
➤ L#4: http://is.gd/VUQt9V

No More Injections: Dried Sugar Used to Create Microneedle Array

The Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation has helped fund research carried out at King’s College London to produce a microneedle array made from dried sugar. It looks a lot like the tongue cleaner you find on the back of a toothbrush, but instead it can be (painlessly) pushed into the skin to administer a vaccine. Read More

Mars Curiosity Rover Update

Nasa's Curiosity Mars rover has finally drilled deep enough into a rock to acquire a powdered sample for analysis. The fine grey material from the 6cm-hole will be sieved and inspected before being delivered to the robot's onboard labs in the coming days. It will represent a historic first in planetary exploration - never before has the interior of a rock on another world been probed in such a way. Read More

The Imaginarium
Remember to find ways to make the ordinary, extraordinary.

How Science Works