The "Heinz" birthday

It was my birthday last week. If you're interested in just how old I am, I'm calling this my "Heinz" year. Queen Elizabeth II was crowned on my birthday. My name was supposed to be "Elizabeth". Nothing like starting life off on the wrong foot before you're aware that you have feet. So I was named for the Archbishop of Canterbury instead. Quick thinking on Dad's part.

It's funny. I don't feel that different from the way I did when I turned say, 26 or even 18. But there are things that I just can't plain do or want to do anymore that date from those more youthful days. Good thing, I guess, as many of them are (and were) illegal.

I look in the mirror and see the same face I've been staring at all these years. It's a bit more wrinkled, grayer, and more bald. I've got a bit of a paunch and "spare tire", but basically I'm in pretty decent shape. I can still ride my bike to work, and have good workouts at the gym.

My kids are young adults now. They are ready to make their marks in the world. They now have tools that were beyond my conceptual grasp when I was their age, but here I'm using one of them now. They take these things as a "given". More power to them!

The world is indeed shrinking, and maybe, just maybe, their generation will truly understand what my generation has utterly failed to grasp; that we are part of a global society, and that one person can make a small difference for the betterment of someone else if they keep thinking that way.

Abby has returned from her second trip to Ghana, where she handed out a bunch of second-hand childrens' books collected from our friends and neighbors. The picture of her with the kids at "her" school in Hohoe is priceless.

Nat is probing the intricacies of cell biology. He is interested in gene therapy of "orphan" diseases. Here's another thing that in my 20's I never thought was possible. He's now doing it.

So on my "Heinz" anniversary, I am content with the knowledge that so far I've done pretty well. Not a bad birthday present for any age these days.

Back from New London, Back to Africa

It's been awhile since I've felt like writing anything here. No particular reason, just haven't had much to say. But this week has been one involving the offspring, one coming home, the other leaving.

Nat has completed his Freshman year at college. I went to retrieve him on Tuesday, and we got back home on Wednesday. He was happy the year was over but looking forward to his return inn the fall. He seems to have found the right school at the right time for his interests. Thank you, Dr. Fred Kaplan! Nat has been inspired to follow in your lead. He will make life better for someone some day.

It seems like it was just a few weeks ago that Laurie and I were visiting him during parent's weekend...

It also seems like just a few weeks ago that we were picking Abby up at the airport after her 6 weeks in Ghana. Yesterday we put her on the plane to go back. She's returning to Hohoe to see her kids and Miss Suzy with donated kids books and crayons. I just talked to her about 2 hours ago when she called on her friend's cell phone to let me know she had arrived safely. To me, hearing her voice in real-time is still something that I have trouble comprehending even though I know the technology pretty well. There's something that's still miraculous about it.

She'll be there for 2 weeks this time, but somehow I think that that she will continue to return whenever she can. She is making life better for people right now, if the smiling faces of "her" kids are any indication.

I am so proud of my children. They have faced both good times and bad. They have driven us to the brink of madness and brought us infinite joy. And they are both thinking globally and figuring out ways that they can make a difference in the world they live in.

As their father, I am truly blessed.

Isn't Life Strange...

I did something today that I've never done before. I had to identify a body. I had to be sure that the remains purported to be those of James Henry Sharp, my long-ago boss from 1983 - 1996 at the Einstein Planetarium, were indeed his. I chose to do this voluntarily, since I was the second-to-last person who was reasonably close to him to see him alive in late January just before the blizzards hit. He died on March 1.

Under Virginia law, virtually nothing in an estate proceeding can happen until the remains are identified. Jim's wife is in Colorado and I'm here, so the obvious decision was to have me do the deed.

It was a very interesting experience. Years ago, when I was in East Africa, I saw lots of Maribou Storks, which, along with the vultures and hyenas, are the trash collectors of the open plains. The storks always stood around in a kind of formal manner, and for some reason all I could think of was that they reminded me of some undertaker from a moldy Dickens story.

The attendants at the funeral home where Jim was instantly made me think of Maribou Storks. Older, somewhat hunched over, with a somber formal bearing and black suits. Originally I was led to the "arrangements" room, where they had all the sample urns, caskets, etc. Realizing their mistake, I was then led up to the "viewing" parlor.

Well, there he was. At first I was afraid that they had the wrong person in the box. This man was clean-shaven, and the Jim that I knew always had a beard. In fact when I last saw him he had a really long beard and hair, which made him look even more like Galileo than he did back in the late 80's and 90's when he impersonated the famous astronomer on a number of occasions. Well, the beard was gone now and his hair was trimmed, and for the first time I saw his chin. This threw me for a bit of a loop, to say the least. I mean I was there to officially identify him and this was not exactly the Jim I remembered. However, I was finally able to get a look at just the upper part of his face, and then mentally "grew him a beard". It was definitely Jim.

Thank goodness he appeared as if he were merely asleep. I half expected him to open his eyes and ask what I was doing there. But he had a look of serenity about him, a look that seemed to indicate that he was ready to meet his demise with dignity and grace. There was nothing unsettling about the experience. Actually the "Maribou Storks" creeped me out way more than Jim did.

We have a Facebook page dedicated to him now, and it's nice to see that people are finding it and contributing to it. He's been gone for three weeks now, and I guess I am now really the last person who knew him to see him. Hopefully this will clear the way for the settlement of his affairs and another interesting interlude in life closes a chapter.

Now, that's a "first"...

As part of my job at the U.S. Naval Observatory I give "special tours" to groups of folks who have something to do with our mission or have some sort of inside connection to the Observatory, staff, tenants, and so forth. This is the time of year when I get besieged by requests for these tours. Fortunately, the Deputy Superintendent gets to have the final say on which requests are valid for my support.

This past week I had two such tours, Friday and Saturday night. The Friday tour was for a group of Girl Scouts under the sponsorship of a staffer in the White House Military Office who works logistics at the VP Residence.

For several weeks one of the other staffers at the VPR had been trying to get me to do a special tour for a young couple, one from the White House, the other from State Department. The young man wanted to propose to his GF in a telescope dome, since she was into astronomy.

Needless to say had this request been routed through "channels" it probably would have been shot down faster than Dick Cheney can wing a lawyer, so I was able to convince the parties involved that the easiest way to do it would be to "piggyback" the couple on the Girl Scout tour.

Friday night arrived, and the Scouts were early. Fortunately I brought in lots of hardware for show-'n-tell, and I was able to entertain them outside until the couple arrived. I went down to fetch them at the South Gate, brought them up to join the Scouts, and proceeded to conduct my tour.

We went up to the telescope as planned to look at the Moon and Mars. Then, again as planned, I took the scouts outside to learn how to use star charts and pointed out some constellations, leaving the couple alone in the dome.

The Scouts departed at around 9:30 pm, and I went back up to the telescope to see how things were going. Well, the proposal was made on bended knee, and the young lady said "Yes". I gave them a long look at Saturn, which was high enough to see by then, and we chatted for awhile before they left at a little after 10.

Sometimes you just have to do the right thing. I was pleased that I was able to not only help the Scouts (a very attentive group, BTW) with their merit badge, but I also helped facilitate the start of a new relationship between two people. As far as I know this was the first marriage proposal conducted in the dome of the 12-inch telescope, and it had a successful outcome.

Love under the stars. A good start if you ask me.

Beware the Ides of March

Well, I guess if I were Caesar I'd take this more to heart. But March is always a strange month around these parts. A month ago we were digging out from two massive snow storms. Today the trees are starting to bud and shed their little husks all over the place, bulbs are rocketing up in the flower beds, and we've just gone on Daylight Time. Crazy month, this March.

The start this year was somewhat inauspicious. On the 1st our friend Katherine, who is being treated for breast cancer, lost her faithful little dog Coal, who had been her constant companion while she endured the wretchedness of chemotherapy. Coal was my "little buddy" as well. I always played with him whenever I stopped by or when we visited Kath's cabin and,more recently, her cottage down on the Northern Neck. He was a great little dog and one of the primary reasons I felt we were ready to get Louis, with whom Laurie and I have become total mushes.

On the same day my former boss at the Planetarium, Jim Sharp, passed away. I had been trying to lend a hand to him and his widow by collecting his mail, helping him with his bills, etc. but hadn't seen him since late January. At that time he seemed to be in good spirits, in possession of all his faculties, maybe even upbeat. The blizzards prevented me from getting over to see him, then BAM! he was dead.

Now I'm trying to help tie up his estate with his widow. He left no apparent will, so the whole shebang is going to wind up in probate.

Yep, it's going to be an interesting month.

Well, now I've done it!

Joined Facebook, that is...Getting snowed in the way we did last week will probably do that to anybody. The cyber-space antidote to Cabin Fever.

But it is really pretty amazing how quickly people find you out there. People I haven't heard from in years are now sending "friend" requests. It's actually pretty cool. As of right now I have 42 friends (39 if you don't count family).

The young folks are very gracious, allowing me to share in their goings-on. Please continue to keep the geezer entertained. I promise to do my best to not embarrass any of you...

Round 2...and records fall!

Well, if nothing else we've set a record for single-season snow fall at all three area airports. The latest bout of snow came in at around 10 inches at home, but it was hard to measure since there aren't any good flat bare surfaces to start from!

This storm also brought high winds, so we had near white-out conditions during much of the day. There were interesting little "snow-nadoes" whistling down the street on several occasions. Apart from a power glitch this morning, everything seems to be online for now. Hope it stays that way.

I've done a round of shoveling the sidewalks, and this time the snow is pretty powdery, so it's a bit easier on the back. We'll see how things hold up tomorrow for the second dig-out. I've also spent quite a bit of time attempting to break ice dams on the gutters before they all come a-crashing down. Looks like quite a bit of work is going to have to be done once this stuff all melts.

Six more weeks to the equinox...maybe we'll see the ground by then!

I'm getting too old for this...

Memo to Ol' Man Winter: I give up. You win.

I was going to take a day off and go skiing this week. How ironic.

I am pretty sure that I have singlehandedly moved at least three tons of show over the last few days. I used to like snow. I'm from New England, for chrissakes. Growing up we had storms measured in feet. But we also had a Gravely Tractor with a snowblower attachment and a plow. We had awesome hills for sledding. I owned a set of snowshoes which got pretty regular workouts. One winter we had 10 feet of snow piled up against the fence at the lower end of the driveway. My friend Mitch and I made a snow fort, complete with secret entrances, tunnels, etc.

In college up in Worcester, MA we also had massive snowstorms measured in feet. Inconvenient for a day, maybe two, but you could drive a rear-wheel drive car down any street in town within 2 days of the show ending.

I've experienced some pretty big dumps of snow since moving to the DC area in 1977, but this officially takes the cake. I measured 20 inches in the side yard last Saturday after that storm wound down. Now we're scheduled for another 10+ storm with winds, etc. just to add to the fun. I don't like snow anymore. I hurt for all the wrong reasons. I've done nothing but shovel for the last three days. Looks like I'll get to do it all over again. Getting old sucks.

Another great bumper sticker

I used to have one that said "Of All the Things I've Lost, I Miss My Mind the Most".

That was my fave until I was given a "Republicans For Voldemort" sticker back in 2004.

Wednesday night at the gym I saw another "must-have". It said "We Have the Fossils. We Win!" followed by a running "Jesus fish". My birthday's in June...

Happy New Year (but not the end of the decade!)

What’s so special about a year ending in “9”? Well, the vast majority of us seem to think that it is the end of a decade, century, or millennium. If nothing else it gives news organizations and list-makers plenty of fodder, which can then be re-hashed next year as the “true” end of the decade. While there is no “official” determinant to a decade’s end I personally follow the practice of counting ten items such as stars or years from “one to ten” as opposed to “zero to nine”.

Consider this. In the Gregorian Calendar there is no year "0". The first year of the first decade/century/millennium was the year "1". The last year of the first decade was "10", century was "100", etc. So, sorry, folks, we've got one more year to put a positive spin on the "aughts" before the decade of the "teens". Call me a pedantic curmudgeon. Go ahead...I've been called much worse things. But dem's de facts, Jack.

This mindset actually proves very handy for those “milestone” birthdays; when I turned fifty I thought of it as the last year of the decade of my “forties”, which softened the blow until the following year, when I finally couldn’t escape the inevitable. So, for me, the decade lasts one more year. It can only get better, right?