The Curiosity mission continues to amaze. Not only is it technically sophisticated, it is well documented. Just as with a dad at Disney World, the video camera is constantly running on so we can always remember how much fun the kids had when we went on that long, long trip! Here’s dad’s note in his vacation journal:
By far the highlight was that huge, huge drop off of Space Mountain. I got some great HD footage from the moment our darling little Curio dropped his heat shield. I told him not to dangle it underneath us, but some kids just won’t listen! In the footage, you can watch it fall all the way down, just like last year when my right sandal dropped into the kids’ barnyard from the State Fair Sky Glider. Good thing we noticed which corn stalk it landed next to so we could go back and get it! On this Space Drop, though, there was no doubt the whole point of the ride was to shake you loose. And it worked. Curio has assured me he’s not going to go on a roller coaster ride like that ever again. From now on, it’s 50 feet at a time, and then only if we go very, very slowly!
Too bad there was no camera positioned to get our shocked expressions. It felt like we were going to crash right into the Mars! As it was, we got covered in red dust. Yuk! But if anyone saw us coming in, I’ll bet we made an impressive (and funny) sight!
The directors of the Curiosity mission on Mars are planning a road trip for the rover. Just like so many of us do in late August, NASA will pack the family in the car and go sightseeing. Even though we just got done spending what felt like YEARS in space, we have to look at something new? Can’t we just stay in one place?
Image credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/Univ. of Arizona
Apparently not. In this case the new attraction is named Glenelg, which has some interest for the scientists because three different kinds of terrain intersect there. I don’t know the textbook terminology for it, but basically there’s some stuff that looks like it could be bedrock, some other crater marked stuff that might be quite old, and lots more of the stuff that Curiosity landed on.
Glenelg is a palindrome, and the planners named it thus because Curiosity will visit the spot twice. Once on the way to the base of Mt. Sharp, and once on the way back.
This is how engineers amuse themselves.
Following the travels of Curiosity will be fun if you are the sort of person who happens to find driving very slowly and looking at rocks delightful. Teenage joyriders may lack the patience for this particular trip, but we have the mission planners to thank for giving us a nice variety of rocks to enjoy. Rocks, boulders, outcroppings, chunks, lumps. Mars Rover watchers will see plenty of terrain and will learn many new words to describe dusty red nuggets over the next weeks, months and years.
Here’s what I’m waiting to find out – when Curiosity starts claw at the ground with its shovel, will we say it is digging holes in the Mars?
If a similar rover from another civilization was sent to Earth on a quest to explore some scenic spot where multiple kinds of terrain intersect, I’m certain its mission planners would land it at the Lengby Rest Area in Polk County, Minnesota.
The Red Triangle Inside A Circle Marks Our Landing SpotThere’s Landing Space Between These Metallic Outcroppings!
There are lots of good reasons for curious aliens to do this. For one, there’s a flat parking area, so their rover can be lowered onto an even surface. It would be a particular challenge for the engineers to pick a location that’s empty – my recommendation is to go for one of the first spots you come to – far away from the trash cans, the commode, and vending. But those exciting features could be part of a future road trip for the Earth Rover, once it has found its bearings and established a link with the home planet.
Those New Chryslers Just Get Uglier and Uglier
And there’s summer tourism, of course. People up from the Cities would take pictures of the extraterrestrial machine as it takes pictures of them. Actual aliens would be off-putting and we’d ignore them as long as they ignored us, though we’d talk behind their backs and make all sorts of unflattering assumptions about them. But if they sent their machines, well, that kind of space traveler is a little more approachable. I’ve been to the Minneapolis Auto Show. If it has four wheels, it will draw a crowd.
But the best reason is that Minnesota is home to four different biomes and all four of them come together within a few miles of that potty break paradise between Erskine and McIntosh. There’s Coniferous Forest to the Northeast, Tall Grass Aspen Parkland to the Northwest, Prairie Grassland to the West and South, and Deciduous Forest to the South and East. What a treat for an automated rover sent from a place like Tatooine, which we all know is a desert planet in a binary star system. Those parched taxpayers would want to get their money’s worth, and the Lengby Rest Area would deliver. All this different terrain to look at!
The only problem – the Lengby Rest Area is situated in the median, so the machine will have to cross Highway 2 to get to the good stuff. But that’s just another kind of scientific discovery – do Minnesota drivers brake for exploratory robots? Sometimes you have to go there to find out.
At about this time in the Summer of 1929 the German Airship Graf Zeppelin started on a voyage around the world.
In case you’re wondering what’s the difference between a Zeppelin, a Dirigible and a Blimp, I will tell you that only one of them is an easy word for Americans to say and to spell. Other differences are explained here, at a very thorough website called airships.net.
As you read about them, it becomes clear how Zeppelins are like Windex and Jello. The name is proprietary – only lighter-than-air ships made by a certain manufacturer can be called Zeppelins.
Another surprising fact – the German aristocrat who developed them, Count Ferdinand von Zeppelin, had his first flight and received his inspiration for creating his namesake airship as a young man traveling far from home in … where else?.
I know the Hindenburg disaster gave zeppelins a bad name with the floating-in-midair public, but I’m entranced by the details of the Graf Zeppelin’s planetary circumnavigation.
It took three weeks. THREE WEEKS! Who gets three weeks off for a vacation? And of those 21 days from Lakehurst, New Jersey to Lakehurst, New Jersey, 12 days were spent airborne.
With all the rushing about that we do from day to day, imagine going around the globe at roughly 72 miles per hour, seeing everything pass about 650 feet below you. That’s low enough and slow enough to actually see things. What a luxurious way to spend your late summer!
Sure, there might have been some slight concerns about suddenly plummeting out of the sky, but this was 1929 and the Roaring 20’s were at full throttle. A profound drop was coming, but not until October. In New York. On Wall Street. In the meantime, why not live it up? About 65 stories up!
What’s the most interesting sight you’ve seen from the air?
Today is the anniversary of the first landing by humans on the Moon. It happened in 1969 when the Lunar module from Apollo 11 touched down in the Sea of Tranquility. Not an actual sea, of course, but a darker area on the moon’s dry surface that was thought to be a sea by early observers.
Photo by NASA/GSFC/Arizona State University
Not long ago, NASA’s Lunar Range Observer took a photo of the area from 30 miles up. The bright spot to the left is the Apollo 11 site. For the people who already believe humans actually travelled to the moon, this is proof positive that a landing occurred. For all the moon hoax conspiracy theorists, flat-earthers and space travel deniers, it is just another bad Photoshop job.
But take a good look at the site. NASA says the area in the photo is about four tenths of a mile across from side to side and from top to bottom.
It just so happens Disneyland Park in Anaheim, California is about four tenths of a mile across from The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh on the west to the outer edge of Autopia on the East,
and also from Mickey’s House on the North to the main gate on the South.
Coincidence? I think not. If the current push towards the private exploration of space continues and ultimately includes space tourism as a main revenue source, the Apollo 11 landing site at the Sea of Tranquility (World) will become a significant historic and recreational destination.
Photo by NASA/GSFC/Arizona State University/Google Maps
People will flock there with their families, though they’re bound to complain about that insipid music that accompanies the ride on It’s A Small Step After All.
Invent an attraction to go in (or near) Sea of Tranquility (World).
I have just returned from a long, lovely weekend in Northern Minnesota at a private resort called Club Lyn, where the food, company, activities, scenery and weather were beyond excellent. A calm and beautiful lake was at our disposal, and a pair of loons posed.
June is a wonderful time to be out on just about any lake, whether you are a loon or a baboon. Or a Kangaroo. Today is Bob Keeshan’s birthday, born on June 27th in the year 1927. He was a children’s television pioneer, and also something of a boating daredevil. Look at this dangerous stunt!
Kids, I think even Captain Kangaroo would tell you, don’t go out on the lake without a lifejacket, for you AND your passenger.
Not that I would ever do this to you, but one of the frustrating things about being brought along on other people’s vacations through regular photo updates is that you, when at home, are stuck in slow moving routine time while they, on holiday, are experiencing super-fast pleasure time.
Water Sports!
That means the Holiday People will think the whole thing is a giddy, fascinating lark throughout, rushing by them at a breakneck pace. To you, however, their vacation seems to go on forever.
Aren’t they done yet?
If I had taken a long weekend and ducked out on Thursday, I’d be in my third day of recreation and relaxation today while you would be just getting used to the idea of not having to report for your usual duties because it is Saturday. How cruel! That’s why I’m probably not taking a loooooong weekend, and certainly not telling you about it at length and in excruciating detail. It would be rude. That’s also why I wouldn’t send you pictures of the fun I was having. Why waste even a moment of your precious weekend wishing you could be where I am, doing the outrageous and crazy fun things I’m doing?
Time for a Sand Castle!
If I did subject you to my vacation, you would only have Sunday to look forward to. Then, at least, you could take some satisfaction in the knowledge that I would spend a large part of the day packing, and the rest of it traveling, possibly stuck in an airport or jammed up in traffic, just so I could be back where I’m supposed to be on Monday.
No, I’m not really skipping out of work for an unreasonably but seasonably Long Weekend and then rubbing your face in it by gloating.
The Glittering Lights of Somewhere Else Dazzled Us!
Probably not. But maybe it wouldn’t be much of a loss if I did. Not a lot gets done on Friday anyway – in some workplaces the whole day is almost a complete waste of time, especially during the summer months. You could argue that a person might be MORE productive if they worked extra hard Monday through Thursday and permanently reassigned Friday to weekend status.
The Local Transit System is Surprisingly Plush
That’s assuming they didn’t already take Thursday off.
I don’t think I did that. Probably not. But if, by chance, I did and in the process saw a few exotic, exciting places and took in some unique or at least highly unusual sights, I would keep it to myself. In any case, I certainly wouldn’t bother you by sending puzzling pictures of my ambiguous activities dully described with cryptic captions. That would be wrong.
They Certainly Know How To Have a Good Time Here!
But enough about me. What are you doing this weekend?
With the arrival of summer, the luckiest ones among us (those who have work) may also have the privilege (if they have the resources) of taking an occasional break from the routine – a long weekend to kick back and relax.
This was certainly more than we expected.
I’m not saying that I get to do that, but if I did, I’d resist taking pictures. Taking pictures is work. A Long Weekend is supposed to be the opposite of work. Plus, receiving pictures of someone else’s vacation can be a very mixed blessing. While it’s nice to see that your friends get to travel and have fun, when you’re stuck in place it can be thoroughly annoying to see that your friends get to travel and have fun. No one wants to be so selfish and resentful in response to someone else’s joy. It just happens.
The room had a memorable view!
It’s even worse if they give you a detailed description of the fun they’re having without you. I sometimes imagine there are darker truths behind the “having a wonderful time” e-mail – horrible things vacationers try to obscure with their overly cheerful accounts of sights seen and towns toured. You know – petty arguments over where to eat and tales of disappointment about the lodgings. An update on THAT part of the trip would be much more compelling. Perhaps.
Flora and Fauna
But I would never burden you with that. Like I say, I might not even be having a long weekend right now. Thursday morning is pretty early to start – that’s almost BEYOND a long weekend – nearing AWOL status. It’s the sort of embarrassing behavior a shy and humiliated person apologizes for at length in a roundabout way without even admitting it. And since I wouldn’t take pictures anyway, you’ll just have to use your imagination with these photos, which were definitely NOT taken this weekend.
The Michele Bachmann / Switzerland citizenship brouhaha, which played out quickly over the course of a few days this week, has me thinking about Cole Porter musicals.
While we don’t know all the details of what really went on behind the scenes, I’m sure the 1930’s Broadway version would re-write the story to revolve around an unlikely relationship with international overtones.
Michele, a blushing American farm girl, meets Marcus, a dashing Swiss industrialist, when he comes to Bettendorf to demonstrate a new machine that will add Swiss chocolate to cows’ milk as it comes out of the udder.
Marcus’s attempts to woo Michele meet with some initial success, but she hesitates to commit because her one true love is the manager of the local grain elevator, an inexplicably attractive hick named Potus. But Potus has never looked at her seriously, and Michele fears he never will.
It seems that every four years, Potus becomes eligible and a frantic contest ensues to win his Pledge of Allegiance, which is highly coveted but only good for another four years. Potus has exacting requirements for those he will accept. One unshakeable condition is that each candidate must be clearly aligned and totally committed. No wishy-washiness allowed!
Each time the quadrennial courtship begins, Michele considers launching a bid of her own, but with Marcus in the picture she has something more solid to go to – the very real possibility of a tangible kind of happiness in a cozy chalet in the Alps.
But one dusty day near the truck scales, Potus casts a meaningful glance in Michele’s direction and she realizes she must chase her crazy dream of someday fairy-land happiness with Potus. She campaigns relentlessly for his attention, flying off in all directions at once and saying outlandish things to re-capture that moment of magic. Her friends shake their heads at this irrational fixation, particularly since they all think a cozy chalet and a cup of Swiss chocolate with sure-thing Marcus sounds pretty great.
Marcus waits with the carefully calibrated patience of a fine Swiss watch, marking off the days and hours until Potus breaks Michele’s heart, which, of course, Potus does, choosing to go off with a wealthy lightweight Michele considers to be a glaring fake.
In her hour of humiliation, Marcus re-offers Michele a ring, and this time she accepts.
On her wedding day, while walking down the aisle under a veil of regret, Michele is stopped mid-way to the altar by the Swiss embassy’s charge d’affairs, who informs her that when she ties the knot with Marcus she will automatically become a full citizen of his country, and will have to adopt a small herd of goats and sign the Pledge of Neutrality.
This she cannot do.
Happily calling off the wedding, Michele informs the Swiss official he can keep his wimpy, wishy-washy pledge – she’s going back to Iowa to continue hoping … and waiting.
Or something like that. Of course Cole Porter didn’t write the tangled plots of those goofball musicals – he just did the tunes and lyrics. I haven’t had time to think of what those lyrics might be, except for this verse from some early song where Michele wrestles with her choice between potential happiness in the Alps and her irrational love of Potus:
All of Switzerlands’ attractions –
Private banks. The Matterhorn.
Can’t compete for someone who was
In a place much flatter, born.
and …
If I choose to go with Marcus,
living in another place, we
won’t remember I was born
just down the road from John Wayne (Gacy)
Obviously, “Swiss Tease”, the musical, needs lots of work.
In the meantime, from what country would you accept dual citizenship?
Michael Palin was interviewed by Terry Gross on Fresh Air in 1990. He said his father was an engineer by trade who became an export manager of a steelworks in Sheffield, though he didn’t necessarily want to do that. “I think he’d actually have been much happier to be a church organist,” Palin said, “but one was sort of pushed into the professions then.”
Palin’s own professional course has taken him through work as a writer on various British TV shows in the late ’60’s before hitting it big with “Monty Python’s Flying Circus” in 1969. Various television and movie triumphs followed, and in the post-Python years, a different kind of success with a series of travel programs.
This strikes me as a fairly jolly career path, and you have to be glad for a person who has won accolades in a succession of things that are fun, interesting and important. Unlike his father, Michael Palin was able to follow his passions and excel in the fields of comic absurdity and science – two areas that don’t often intersect. He did not become discouraged, allow himself to be re-directed or get “pushed into the professions”.
Unless, of course, his true dream was to be a lumberjack.
When have you taken on a job you didn’t really want to do?
Trail Baboon 