The Roar of Cannon, Dave Daymont Escapes Electrocution and The Imaginarium.

Hello Troops,
That is the roar of cannon heard over the distant hills. The Easter Holiday truce is ending. We make ready for battle in our war against Ignorance. Monday brings a return to work for me and a return to school for many of you.

There is an oddity on our Space Center schedule for the week.


Notice all the red boxes? Those are booked missions. On a normal week you'd see a mixture of red and blue boxes, blue boxes being open time slots. There are no open mission slots this entire week! That makes this week unusual. All red is a good thing. More work means more operating money. More operating money means money to improve our ships and upgrade our programming and computers. Our staff will be busy working all those missions and getting through their finals.

I started the Voyager yesterday to see if the old gal would cooperate. We do start up tests after every holiday lasting one week or longer because our simulators have personalities of their own. They have a tendency to act out if they feel the slightest neglect. They're use to copious amounts of TLC from the staff and volunteers. When the TLC isn't forthcoming they react by not functioning correctly upon our return.

I walked through the Voyager before I did the start up and thanked her for 21 years of devoted service. I remarked how good she looked for a ship of her age, and considering the number of missions she's run and the countless number of children she's cared for. I told her I was there every day of the week, working in the office. I reminded her of the numerous repairs she's received over the last year - all very costly. I reminded her of the cool new $50 lamp I installed at the decoding station during the break. I told her I really needed her to give me a great start up. She did. We should be good to go tomorrow.

The Magellan, Odyssey, Galileo and Phoenix also passed their start up tests. We are ready for a very busy week. The only possible hiccup could be the Commons Room. The Space Center's Great New Wall separating the Commons Room from the Sixth Grade hallway is unfinished. We need the Commons Room for Monday's planetarium shows. I'm hoping the painters come in early Monday morning and get the sanding done so we can clean the floor and get set up for the 10:00 A.M. show.

Set Director Dave Daymont Nearly Electrocuted

Phoenix Set Director Dave Daymont showing his electrocuted finger.

"I went to the Stage to check on the landing party set up," Dave explained while rubbing his ring finger in an effort to restore blood flow and feeling. "One of the volunteers was reaching down to unplug one of our lamp props. I saw the faint glimmer of exposed copper." Dave stopped and tried to catch his breath. The retelling of the story was taking a toll on his composure. I could see Dave was suffering from minor shock. I told him to sit down and relax before continuing with his story.

"You saw the exposed copper..." I said to remind him of where he'd left off in the telling of the tale.

Dave took a deep breath and continued. "I saw the exposed wire and started across the stage toward the lamp. I shouted to the boy not to unplug the plug from the wall. He wasn't listening. He had his iPod going. I wasn't looking where I was going and tripped over one of the overturned chairs we use as props. I hit the stage hard, slid forward and got to the boy just in time to grab the cord out of his hand. The shock was powerful enough to clamp my jaw shut. My teeth are hurting. There were sparks everywhere. I'm lucky to be alive. Look at my finger."

I shook my head back and forth in disbelief at his heroic actions. "Can you feel your finger?"

"Don't worry. I'll be OK," Dave answered, not wanting anyone to make a fuss. "Don't tell my wife what happened. It will only worry her. She always gets nervous when I'm around electricity."

Dave gets our Hero of the Month Award for his dramatic actions in saving one of our volunteers from a shock.

Great Job Dave!

From the Imaginarium

Sometimes its all you can do.


The Imaginarium's Easter Bunnies leaving the Imaginarium's Ministry of Holiday Magic to start their Easter egg deliveries.


Waiting in an Imaginarium Dentist's office is a thrill on its own.


It's all in the marketing
Yes, there's a sucker born every minute


For the Socialist in your family



Imaginarium News Update.

North Korean Launches Multistage Rocket to Celebrate the 100th Anniversary of their
Dear Leader's Birth (In Pictures)

From the Imaginarium's Shop of Unknown Pleasures
Do your Holiday Shopping Early at the Shop of Unknown Pleasures.

Item #5469205678592.
A must for the carnivores in your family.

Item #5469205678593
For the discerning cook in your family.


Item #54692056785924
For the Nerd in your family.



Item #5469205678595
For that person who has everything in your family.


Item #5469205678596
Perfect for your home's Dickens Themed room. Doesn't every home have one?


Item #5469205678597
For the romantic in your family.

A Dark Friday for the Space Center. So Rare.

Hello Troops,
Only a few times a year is complete quiet heard on a Friday at the Space Center. Today is one of those rare Fridays.

The school is quiet, the Space Center empty, except for me. Here I sit, keeping company with the ghosts of Central's teachers past. They roam the hallways when all are gone, looking for escape from their self inflicted torment. I hear them from time to time, crying in anguish behind locked classroom doors. It seems this school has become a special purgatory to punish teachers for the evil they inflicted upon students during their mortal years.


The ghosts ignore me. I don't know why. Perhaps they sense my impending membership in their Society of Anguishing Teachers. If so, then I state here and now that they have been sorely misinformed. What evil have I done to students? Yes, I've done my fair share of dispensing stern lectures for misbehavior. I've given countless dictionary pages to be copied by incorrigible students. And yes, my tongue has released several arrows of extreme sarcasm into many a deserving student's psyche. It is an survival skill I learned in 1983 during my first year teaching the 6th grade. Sarcasm has kept me sane during the ups and downs of almost 30 school years, to the dismay of many a bully and miscreant.


I stand guilty as charged if these be the sins which anchor a teacher's soul to this world. I'll challenge the Gate Keeper to show me a teacher who hasn't when my time comes. If one can't be found, then I shall ask him to step aside and let me pass.

To all the Space Center's Staff and Volunteers, I wish you a happy Dark Friday. My work here is done for the day and I leave the building to my vaporous colleagues.

Mr. Williamson

The Ghost Teacher

The school is closed, the children gone,

But the ghost of a teacher lingers on.

As the daylight fades, as the daytime ends,
As the night draws in and the dark descends,

She stands in the class room, as clear as glass,

And calls the names of her absent class.

The school is shut, the children grown,

But the ghost of the teacher all alone,

Puts the date on the board and moves about

(As the night draws in and the stars come out)

Between desks -A glow in the gloom-

And calls for quite in the silent room.

The school is a ruin, the children fled,

But the ghost of the teacher, long time dead,

As the moon comes up and the first owls glide,

Puts on her coat and steps outside.

In the moonlit playground, shadow free,

She stands on duty with a cup of tea.

The school is forgotten -the children forget-

But the ghost of a teacher, lingers yet.

As the night creeps up to the edge of day,

She tidies the Plasticine away;

Counts the scissors -a shimmer of glass-

And says, "Off you go!" to her absent class.

She utters the words that no one hears.

Picks up her bag...

And

Disappears.

Allan Ahlberg

The Thursday of our Spring Break

Hello Troops,
We start today's post with shocking news from Mars.



Yes, a new picture from Mars taken by the Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter. Could this be proof that life exists on Mars? Some ancient astronaut theorists think so (it is an interesting picture, wouldn't you agree).

Today is the Thursday of our Spring Vacation. Early this afternoon I drove the Battlestar to Lehi's Costco to restock on candy bars and other items. The Space Center runs on love, devotion, dedication, creativity, imagination and CANDY BARS! Candy bars are the currency with which we pay our awesome volunteers. Our volunteers know to check in at my desk upon arrival. I swipe their volunteer card and direct them with a nod, glance or a mumble to the Space Center's Candy Treasury filled with delicious mouth watering chocolates and other fine confectionery. They may select one candy bar to power them through the next two hours.

Costco is a dangerous place for me. There are so many cool things I never knew I needed until I see them at Costco, sitting on the shelves, and calling my name like the Sirens of old calling out and shipwrecking ancient sailors onto the rocks of Anthemusa. I stand shipwrecked on each aisle, memorized by the merchandise. I imagine the device in my home, filling a hitherto unknown and desperate need. An 80 inch LED TV caught my eye today. It sat on display right at the entrance, entrapping the innocent.

"Buy me..... Buy me....." It whispered into my ear. I nearly succumbed to the temptation, had it not been the $4000.00 price tag which quickly convinced me to lift anchor and sail away. Yes, Costo is a dangerous place for me. I wouldn't normally put myself in such peril, but Costco is the place where I buy candy bars and batteries for the Space Center. It is an evil I must learn to resist.

Megan and Christine spent much of the afternoon working on new summer missions for the Phoenix and Odyssey.

And now from the Imginarium's Dept. of Useless Items.....




Is this the story of your life living with mathematics?





And finally, the perfect analogy for those trapped in a room with an overly optimistic zealot. Aren't they the worst. They always smile, even at funerals. What is there to smile about at a funeral?

"Oh, let's be thankful they've gone to a better place!" they say with an obnoxious smile stretching from ear to ear.

"No, I'm not thankful they've gone on to a better place," I reply. "I kind of liked having them right here."

They fail a test at school. "Look on the bright side," they say. "At least now I know what I should have known!"

They are those who believe the word 'Impossible' was coined in the fires of Hell and used to thwart mankind of their true potential. "If there's a Will there's a Way," I've heard them say year after year after year.

This is my new comeback.



Have a great day troops!

Mr. Williamson