Early man discovered that the skies contained seven objects which moved about in the skies, as opposed to the many object which remained in the same relative position night after night. Today, we know these seven objects as
1. The Sun,
2. The Moon,
3. Mercury,
4. Venus,
5. Mars,
6. Jupiter, and
7. Saturn
With the aid of magnification lenses, another object was discovered which moved about in like manner. That object was designated as
"URANUS", the seventh planet from the sun.
All my life, I have called the planet "uRAINus," with the initial "u" barely sounded and the final "us" a quiet after-syllable to the emphasized "RAIN" sound in the middle. I suppose I was in my mid-30's before I heard jokes made about how it was pronounced, and I think that came after I had heard noted astronomer, author and actor Carl Sagan pronounce the name "URINE-us". Then my dear friend Lloyd, the world traveller, asked me "What do the Starship Enterprise and toilet paper have in common?" I didn't know. "They both circle Uranus in search of Klingons."
The first 35 years of my life, it just didn't occur to me that the seventh planet had this identity problem with verbal-aural similarities which evoked thoughts of an anatomical part or of liquid human waste. In fact, the word "anus" was only used with the waste hole in a paramecium, euglena, or other simple lifeform. The comparable word for that part of a human was generally referred to in other ways. Today, I found a website - http://www.nineplanets.org.html which cautioned readers about the pronunciation, to be careful not to cause embarrassment by saying "Your anus" or "Urine us"; the site included a soundbyte so we would all know how to pronounce the name of the seventh planet.
http://www.nineplanets.org/say/uranus.au
This is truly a fine public service. We should all be thankful to the webmaster for including this training information.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Dan Fogelberg and Elvis
"Another Dan Fogelberg sighting!" came the voice on my telephone, as my Friend-in-Fogelberg Kevin reported to me after he and brother Barry returned from their daily walk at Shelby Bottoms, and he described, as he has several times in the past three years or so, a fellow walker in the lower East Nashville park who, according to the brothers, is a spitting image of Dan Fogelberg during his Wild Places period (ca. 1990), not only with similar facial features but also the pulled-back hair and pony tail. When they pass him on one of their daily walks, they greet him with "Hi, Dan!" which he always acknowledges with a chuckle.
Then as I turned to make my way back to the kitchen, the snow turned into rain, and on TV, the newscaster was saying, "Another Elvis sighting today...". Just for a moment I was taken with the idea that people would start seeing a live Dan Fogelberg in diverse places, just as they continue to see Elvis, alive and well, then I decided to google "Dan Fogelberg and Elvis", the product of which was:
(1) Glenn Spreen, who produced, conducted and directed both Dan and Elvis, and
(2) http://greenleegazette.blogspot.com/2007/12/dan-fogelberg-dies.html which described a family setting around a supper table with a particular/peculiar discussion of Dan Fogelberg just the evening prior to Dan's death being revealed. The author said that, for some unexplained reason, this has happened around that table numerous times, the first of which was Elvis. They have a particular/peculiar discussion of a famous person, and, the next day, the person is dead. The author does say that he puts no particular significance on this inasmuch as he is sure that he is not personally causing the celebrity to die, but, as he says, it is curious.
Dan lives. His music is here forever.
Thanks, Dan.
We'll always love you.
And Elvis, you know we love you too.
Then as I turned to make my way back to the kitchen, the snow turned into rain, and on TV, the newscaster was saying, "Another Elvis sighting today...". Just for a moment I was taken with the idea that people would start seeing a live Dan Fogelberg in diverse places, just as they continue to see Elvis, alive and well, then I decided to google "Dan Fogelberg and Elvis", the product of which was:
(1) Glenn Spreen, who produced, conducted and directed both Dan and Elvis, and
(2) http://greenleegazette.blogspot.com/2007/12/dan-fogelberg-dies.html which described a family setting around a supper table with a particular/peculiar discussion of Dan Fogelberg just the evening prior to Dan's death being revealed. The author said that, for some unexplained reason, this has happened around that table numerous times, the first of which was Elvis. They have a particular/peculiar discussion of a famous person, and, the next day, the person is dead. The author does say that he puts no particular significance on this inasmuch as he is sure that he is not personally causing the celebrity to die, but, as he says, it is curious.
Dan lives. His music is here forever.
Thanks, Dan.
We'll always love you.
And Elvis, you know we love you too.
The Wrong Crowd
When mama tells you, "Don't fall in with the wrong crowd," listen to her. Consider the case of Bruce Davis.
Bruce was born in Monroe, Louisiana in 1942, the younger of two children. His family moved to Mobil, Alabama, then to Kingston, Tennessee, where Bruce attended Roane County High School. Bruce was the Editor-in-Chief of the Annual and was an honors student, winning the Social Studies Scholastic Award. Bruce attended the University of Tennessee for about 2 years, then dropped out and moved west where he became immersed in the hippie counter culture. In the west, Davis made a living doing construction work, and, in 1967, ran into Charles Manson, Mary Brunner, Lynette Fromme, & Patricia Krenwinkel in Oregon. Manson liked having another man around, plus Charlie and Bruce had a few things in common. Like Manson, Davis was a good musician and was interested in Scientology.
From November of 1968 to April 1969, Bruce lived in London, England, working at the Scientology headquarters, after which he then returned to the states, where he rejoined the Manson family. In the family, Davis acted as a comptroller, handling all the stolen credit cards and fake ID's.
In July of 1969, Bruce was present when Manson chopped off Gary Hinman's left ear. In late August, Bruce was present at the murder of Spahn's Ranch hand Donald "Shorty" Shea, and though he had no active part in the murder, Bruce did nothing to stop it. Afterwards, the Manson family moved to the Barker Ranch in Death Valley. Bruce was arrested and charged with grand theft auto in the Barker Ranch raid held on October 12, 1969. He was eventually released due to insufficient evidence.
On November 5, 1969, Davis was present when Christopher Jesus, aka "Zero", allegedly killed himself playing Russian roulette. While the death was suspicious, police ruled it a suicide.
In April of 1970, Mary Brunner implicated Davis as being present at the Hinman murder, and Bruce immediately went into hiding. On Manson's orders, Davis turned himself in on December 2, 1970. Bruce went on trial for the murders of both Hinman and Shea, having been what the law defines as "accessory before, to, and after-the-fact" He was convicted and sentenced to Life imprisonment. Davis was briefly suspected of being the Zodiac killer (a mysterious killer that terrorized California by committing several bizarre homicides in the 60's and 70's), but was ruled out as a suspect by the FBI.
Bruce was not present at, and had no part in, the Tate-Biana murders for which the Manson Family gained notoriety; however, Bruce remained a part of the family, knowing the murders had occurred.
In prison, Bruce became a born-again Christian in 1974, and is currently incarcerated at the California Men's Colony in San Luis Obispo, California. This prison does not have secure boundaries and inmates live in dormitories. In prison, Bruce earned Certification in welding and drafting. In 1984, Bruce married a former stewardess (32 years), and they currently have a 16-year-old daughter. in 1997, he earned a Masters degree in Theology. In 2002, he received his Doctorate in Philosophy and Religion, Summa cum Laude, and is presently a candidate for his Doctorate in Engineering. Bruce teaches Bible classes for inmates, varous 12-step programs, and peer-counselling as well as classes in parenting.
Bruce was eligible for parole 28 years ago in 1980. Since that time, he has been a model inmate, having no disciplinary citations or problems of any kind. Nonetheless, when his annual review for parole has been conducted, the Board of Paroles had consistently denied it, saying Bruce is unfit to return to society, although he has repeatedly met every requirement for parole. The problem is this: Bruce was a part of the Manson family, and no Parole Board Member wants to be a part of the system which releases a Manson family member into society. The fact that Bruce actually committed no murder is of little consequence to those who must approve his release.
Bruce simply fell in with the wrong crowd. He drove Manson family members to a place where murders were committed. He did nothing to stop the murders. He has served 28 years more that most convicted murderers in California will ever spend. He is 65 years old, having been incarcerated at age 27, and he will likely remain in prison for the remainder of his life.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bruce graduated from the same high school I attended. He was three years older than I, so we didn't really run in exactly the same circles, but he was popular, always seemed nice, smiled most of the time, always spoke to me (a lowly underclassman), and frequently seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere. He may have been the best-looking guy in his class and always dressed well. I would have chosen him to be the three or four people in his class Most Likely to Succeed.
No one who knew Bruce could believe that he had fallen in with Charles Manson. No one that I knew, anyway.
To me, it seems incredible that this could happen to someone who seemed as nice as Bruce, an honor student, editor-in-chief of the annual, hard worker... someone who looked like The All-American guy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When mama says, "Don't fall in with the wrong crowd," pay attention.
Bruce was born in Monroe, Louisiana in 1942, the younger of two children. His family moved to Mobil, Alabama, then to Kingston, Tennessee, where Bruce attended Roane County High School. Bruce was the Editor-in-Chief of the Annual and was an honors student, winning the Social Studies Scholastic Award. Bruce attended the University of Tennessee for about 2 years, then dropped out and moved west where he became immersed in the hippie counter culture. In the west, Davis made a living doing construction work, and, in 1967, ran into Charles Manson, Mary Brunner, Lynette Fromme, & Patricia Krenwinkel in Oregon. Manson liked having another man around, plus Charlie and Bruce had a few things in common. Like Manson, Davis was a good musician and was interested in Scientology.
From November of 1968 to April 1969, Bruce lived in London, England, working at the Scientology headquarters, after which he then returned to the states, where he rejoined the Manson family. In the family, Davis acted as a comptroller, handling all the stolen credit cards and fake ID's.
In July of 1969, Bruce was present when Manson chopped off Gary Hinman's left ear. In late August, Bruce was present at the murder of Spahn's Ranch hand Donald "Shorty" Shea, and though he had no active part in the murder, Bruce did nothing to stop it. Afterwards, the Manson family moved to the Barker Ranch in Death Valley. Bruce was arrested and charged with grand theft auto in the Barker Ranch raid held on October 12, 1969. He was eventually released due to insufficient evidence.
On November 5, 1969, Davis was present when Christopher Jesus, aka "Zero", allegedly killed himself playing Russian roulette. While the death was suspicious, police ruled it a suicide.
In April of 1970, Mary Brunner implicated Davis as being present at the Hinman murder, and Bruce immediately went into hiding. On Manson's orders, Davis turned himself in on December 2, 1970. Bruce went on trial for the murders of both Hinman and Shea, having been what the law defines as "accessory before, to, and after-the-fact" He was convicted and sentenced to Life imprisonment. Davis was briefly suspected of being the Zodiac killer (a mysterious killer that terrorized California by committing several bizarre homicides in the 60's and 70's), but was ruled out as a suspect by the FBI.
Bruce was not present at, and had no part in, the Tate-Biana murders for which the Manson Family gained notoriety; however, Bruce remained a part of the family, knowing the murders had occurred.
In prison, Bruce became a born-again Christian in 1974, and is currently incarcerated at the California Men's Colony in San Luis Obispo, California. This prison does not have secure boundaries and inmates live in dormitories. In prison, Bruce earned Certification in welding and drafting. In 1984, Bruce married a former stewardess (32 years), and they currently have a 16-year-old daughter. in 1997, he earned a Masters degree in Theology. In 2002, he received his Doctorate in Philosophy and Religion, Summa cum Laude, and is presently a candidate for his Doctorate in Engineering. Bruce teaches Bible classes for inmates, varous 12-step programs, and peer-counselling as well as classes in parenting.
Bruce was eligible for parole 28 years ago in 1980. Since that time, he has been a model inmate, having no disciplinary citations or problems of any kind. Nonetheless, when his annual review for parole has been conducted, the Board of Paroles had consistently denied it, saying Bruce is unfit to return to society, although he has repeatedly met every requirement for parole. The problem is this: Bruce was a part of the Manson family, and no Parole Board Member wants to be a part of the system which releases a Manson family member into society. The fact that Bruce actually committed no murder is of little consequence to those who must approve his release.
Bruce simply fell in with the wrong crowd. He drove Manson family members to a place where murders were committed. He did nothing to stop the murders. He has served 28 years more that most convicted murderers in California will ever spend. He is 65 years old, having been incarcerated at age 27, and he will likely remain in prison for the remainder of his life.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bruce graduated from the same high school I attended. He was three years older than I, so we didn't really run in exactly the same circles, but he was popular, always seemed nice, smiled most of the time, always spoke to me (a lowly underclassman), and frequently seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere. He may have been the best-looking guy in his class and always dressed well. I would have chosen him to be the three or four people in his class Most Likely to Succeed.
No one who knew Bruce could believe that he had fallen in with Charles Manson. No one that I knew, anyway.
To me, it seems incredible that this could happen to someone who seemed as nice as Bruce, an honor student, editor-in-chief of the annual, hard worker... someone who looked like The All-American guy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When mama says, "Don't fall in with the wrong crowd," pay attention.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
"Demotion" of Pluto
Last year, when the World Astronomical Society reclassified Pluto from "planet" to "dwarf planet", I could finally say "I have now personally observed all the planets in my home-made telescope." At this point, I doubt that I'll ever see Pluto in my own telescope, an 8" light-bucket, which is housed in a quarter-inch plywood box and includes storebought pre-ground lenses. Before I undertook that project, which seems eons ago, I had made, from scratch, more or less, a 4" reflector and ground my own lenses. I ruined a lot of glass before I finally got it right. Buying professionally-made lenses is really less expensive in the long run, at least for a grinder like me.
For reasons which escape me, the general public seemed to be disappointed, upset or downright irate at the "demotion" of Pluto from full planet status. It was if the citizens of the world had a vested interest in the number of "planets" in the solar system and were having some of their investment purloined from them.
At age five, I had a keen interest in the skies, astronomy, space travel and the like. I believed that I would be the first man on the moon. Then one October morning, a month short of my eleventh birthday, I awoke to read in the morning Journal that Sputnik had been launched. For days, I had a sick, empty feeling, knowing that I would be too young to be chosen as the astronaut (we didn't have any at the time) to first step foot on the moon.
Before I was ten years old, I had classified the solar system objects into categories with one star, four large gas planets, four rocky inner planets, a belt of asteroids between Jupiter and Mars (at the precise location where another planet should have been and probably once was), some comets, and a bunch of moons. Having read all available information on the subject, I considered Pluto to likely be a runaway moon of Neptune. I certainly did not consider Pluto a planet, although it was classified as one.
Pluto did not have a nearly circular orbit like the eight planets. It was so elliptical that some of the time it was the 8th planet from the sun and some of the time it was the 9th planet from the sun. The fact that it crossed the area of the orbit of Neptune made me believe that it was a runaway moon, or at least something other than a planet. Its orientation in the solar system was outside the ecliptic which contained the eight planets, being tilted more than 20% outside the plane of the other planets. No one seemed to know exactly how big it was, and estimates ranged anywhere from the size of Earth to the size of Earth's moon.
When I learned about the solar system, there were 26 known moons, distributed thusly:
Earth - 1
Mars - 2
Jupiter - 12
Saturn - 9
Uranus - 2
Our scopes just weren't powerful enough to see more.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
When the Russian/American astronomer/writer Isaac Asimov referred to Pluto as a "mesoplanet", or an intermediate planet, I liked the term. He never thought it was a planet, and neither did I, so I had nothing to lose when Pluto was demoted or downgraded to dwarf planet status. To me, it was a simple case of a proper reclassification of a solar system member. Asimov called a "mesoplanet" any solar system body smaller than Mercury but larger than Ceres, the largest asteroid in the inner belt. At the time, Pluto was the only member of the class. Now, we have three certified dwarf planets and 39 more objects which may qualify.
There are currently 17 objects in the Solar System larger than Pluto, including the Sun, eight planets, seven moons, and the dwarf planet Eris. There are a dozen more solar system members smaller than Pluto but larger than Ceres, including nine moons and three objects which are likely to be classified as dwarf planets.
How many more there are out there, only time, and technology, can tell.
But don't mourn for Pluto. Pluto hasn't changed, just humanity's understanding of its rightful place among the members of our system. Pluto's personality is so icy, I doubt that its feelings were hurt.
For reasons which escape me, the general public seemed to be disappointed, upset or downright irate at the "demotion" of Pluto from full planet status. It was if the citizens of the world had a vested interest in the number of "planets" in the solar system and were having some of their investment purloined from them.
At age five, I had a keen interest in the skies, astronomy, space travel and the like. I believed that I would be the first man on the moon. Then one October morning, a month short of my eleventh birthday, I awoke to read in the morning Journal that Sputnik had been launched. For days, I had a sick, empty feeling, knowing that I would be too young to be chosen as the astronaut (we didn't have any at the time) to first step foot on the moon.
Before I was ten years old, I had classified the solar system objects into categories with one star, four large gas planets, four rocky inner planets, a belt of asteroids between Jupiter and Mars (at the precise location where another planet should have been and probably once was), some comets, and a bunch of moons. Having read all available information on the subject, I considered Pluto to likely be a runaway moon of Neptune. I certainly did not consider Pluto a planet, although it was classified as one.
Pluto did not have a nearly circular orbit like the eight planets. It was so elliptical that some of the time it was the 8th planet from the sun and some of the time it was the 9th planet from the sun. The fact that it crossed the area of the orbit of Neptune made me believe that it was a runaway moon, or at least something other than a planet. Its orientation in the solar system was outside the ecliptic which contained the eight planets, being tilted more than 20% outside the plane of the other planets. No one seemed to know exactly how big it was, and estimates ranged anywhere from the size of Earth to the size of Earth's moon.
When I learned about the solar system, there were 26 known moons, distributed thusly:
Earth - 1
Mars - 2
Jupiter - 12
Saturn - 9
Uranus - 2
Our scopes just weren't powerful enough to see more.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
When the Russian/American astronomer/writer Isaac Asimov referred to Pluto as a "mesoplanet", or an intermediate planet, I liked the term. He never thought it was a planet, and neither did I, so I had nothing to lose when Pluto was demoted or downgraded to dwarf planet status. To me, it was a simple case of a proper reclassification of a solar system member. Asimov called a "mesoplanet" any solar system body smaller than Mercury but larger than Ceres, the largest asteroid in the inner belt. At the time, Pluto was the only member of the class. Now, we have three certified dwarf planets and 39 more objects which may qualify.
There are currently 17 objects in the Solar System larger than Pluto, including the Sun, eight planets, seven moons, and the dwarf planet Eris. There are a dozen more solar system members smaller than Pluto but larger than Ceres, including nine moons and three objects which are likely to be classified as dwarf planets.
How many more there are out there, only time, and technology, can tell.
But don't mourn for Pluto. Pluto hasn't changed, just humanity's understanding of its rightful place among the members of our system. Pluto's personality is so icy, I doubt that its feelings were hurt.
Dan Fogelberg Theater (Peoria Civic Center)
In today's mail, I received an envelope which contained, inter alia, a clipped piece of newspaper containing the following information:
__________________________________________________
"On last week’s YOUPage of the Peoria newspaper, Metamora resident Tamara Schaidle proposed a way to honor the late Dan Fogelberg. Fogelberg, 56, died last month at his Maine home after a long battle with prostate cancer.
"The singer-songwriter had his heyday in the 1970s and early ‘80s, when he scored several platinum and multiplatinum records, fueled by such hits as “The Power of Gold” and “Leader of the Band,” a touching tribute he wrote to his father, a music teacher at Woodruff High School. He put out his first album in 1972. His hits, including “Same Old Lang Syne,” helped define the soft-rock era.
"Schaidle suggested the Peoria City Council rename the Civic Center Theater the Dan Fogelberg Theater:
“I would like to have the renaming ceremony take place on Wed., Aug. 13, 2008, what would have been Dan’s 57th birthday. I would like to see a benefit for prostate cancer also take place in the theater that night with ticket proceeds going to the Prostate Cancer Foundation in Dan’s name.
“I believe this is the most loving honor we could bestow on such a beloved local legend,” Schaidle said.
Misty Kelly wrote YOUPage in support of the idea.
“ ... my fondest memory of Dan Fogelberg is of his last concert in the Civic Center Theater,” she said. “Even if the Theater is not re-named for Dan, I absolutely support having a fundraiser/memorial on his birthday, to support the Prostate Cancer Foundation.”
Dianne L. Turner, of Bartonville, lovingly known to legions of Fogelberg fans as Diney Boo , also wrote in support of Schaidle’s suggestion.
“I whole-heartily agree with Tamara Schaidle from Metamora about honoring our man of music, Dan Fogelberg. I would have to go along with her terrific idea about renaming the Civic Center Theater and having a benefit to raise money for prostate cancer. Thus, to whom it may concern ... please allow me to be the first to volunteer my time on this endeavor. I shall be happy to work tirelessly to do what it takes to make this idea become a reality.”
Diney Boo wrote that Fogelberg’s music reached fans world-wide.
“Let us show music lovers everywhere how proud Peoria is to acknowledge his many gifts and talents,” she said. “I sincerely hope that other fans and friends have this same wish for honoring The Living Legacy - Dan Fogelberg.”
Posted:
January 04, 2008 at 14:35
==========================
We don't know whether the theater will be renamed as suggested, but, my God, wasn't it great to hear from Diney Boo again?
We've missed you.
Don't be a stranger, dear.
__________________________________________________
"On last week’s YOUPage of the Peoria newspaper, Metamora resident Tamara Schaidle proposed a way to honor the late Dan Fogelberg. Fogelberg, 56, died last month at his Maine home after a long battle with prostate cancer.
"The singer-songwriter had his heyday in the 1970s and early ‘80s, when he scored several platinum and multiplatinum records, fueled by such hits as “The Power of Gold” and “Leader of the Band,” a touching tribute he wrote to his father, a music teacher at Woodruff High School. He put out his first album in 1972. His hits, including “Same Old Lang Syne,” helped define the soft-rock era.
"Schaidle suggested the Peoria City Council rename the Civic Center Theater the Dan Fogelberg Theater:
“I would like to have the renaming ceremony take place on Wed., Aug. 13, 2008, what would have been Dan’s 57th birthday. I would like to see a benefit for prostate cancer also take place in the theater that night with ticket proceeds going to the Prostate Cancer Foundation in Dan’s name.
“I believe this is the most loving honor we could bestow on such a beloved local legend,” Schaidle said.
Misty Kelly wrote YOUPage in support of the idea.
“ ... my fondest memory of Dan Fogelberg is of his last concert in the Civic Center Theater,” she said. “Even if the Theater is not re-named for Dan, I absolutely support having a fundraiser/memorial on his birthday, to support the Prostate Cancer Foundation.”
Dianne L. Turner, of Bartonville, lovingly known to legions of Fogelberg fans as Diney Boo , also wrote in support of Schaidle’s suggestion.
“I whole-heartily agree with Tamara Schaidle from Metamora about honoring our man of music, Dan Fogelberg. I would have to go along with her terrific idea about renaming the Civic Center Theater and having a benefit to raise money for prostate cancer. Thus, to whom it may concern ... please allow me to be the first to volunteer my time on this endeavor. I shall be happy to work tirelessly to do what it takes to make this idea become a reality.”
Diney Boo wrote that Fogelberg’s music reached fans world-wide.
“Let us show music lovers everywhere how proud Peoria is to acknowledge his many gifts and talents,” she said. “I sincerely hope that other fans and friends have this same wish for honoring The Living Legacy - Dan Fogelberg.”
Posted:
January 04, 2008 at 14:35
==========================
We don't know whether the theater will be renamed as suggested, but, my God, wasn't it great to hear from Diney Boo again?
We've missed you.
Don't be a stranger, dear.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Exceeding the Speed of Light
Mrs. Welch was the high school physics teacher in Kingston, Tennessee's famed Roane County High School, yes, the same school which produced the late great Bowden Wyatt, a member of the last college team to go through its season schedule undefeated, untied and unscored upon, three-time All-American, national coach of the year at Wyoming, then head coach at Arkansas and Tennessee before his unfortunate undoing by the bottle. Coach Wyatt is one of only three humans to be elected to the College Football Hall of Fame as both a player and a coach. Bobby Dodd, another former Tennessee footballer and famed head coach for years at powerhouse Georgia Tech (in its Southeastern Conference days) was another. Whoever the third is, he didn't play at Tennessee, so I don't know him.
Before returning to Mrs. Welch and exceeding the speed of light considerations, I must comment on the only other player from Kingston to play at Tennessee by the time I entered the University of Tennessee. His name was Pud Jackson. Pud most often lined up as a tackle on offense but sometimes played fullback or blocking back, when the Yellowjackets employed the then-popular single wing. His most spectacular plays were when the left end stepped into the backfield and the wingback on the right side stepped onto the line on the right side, leaving Pud as a tackle-eligible player, either to receive a pass or to "pull" into the backfield for a statue of liberty play. I don't know how much he weighed back then, but by the time he got back to the line of scrimmage as a ball carrier, it took four or five guys from the other team to pull him down, and he was always good for five yards or so. And when the `Jackets got to the opponent's three or four-yard line, Pud lined up as fullback, and the opponents might as well just get out of the way, because he was going to score, and anyone who tried to stop him was in for some serious punishment.
Pud worked his way up to second-string defensive tackle for the Vols, and everybody from Kingston thought the U.T. coaching staff must be daft for not using him on offense. Boy, talk about dumb!
As a freshman at U.T., I was about to take down the opposing quarterback for a safety, but a blocker had other ideas, and he didn't mind being penalized half the distance to the goal to take me out but good with a vicious clip, resulting in my head being in about its normal position, except upside down 6' off the ground, and my feet straight up in the air. My helmet was knocked off and I hit the ground with the right side of my face, leaving it minus an epidermis long enough for it to re-grow under the scabs. Man, was I ever a sight! The coach made the entire freshman team line up and come by and shake my hand for the effort and apologize to me for not playing as hard as I did.
Lots of good it did me.
It was a little tough to get a date for a month.
Back to Mrs. Welch.
Mrs. Welch was a classy lady with high standards. I wasn't. Well, I never was a lady, but I never had high standards either. For about 45 years, I was often able to get by on my youthful looks, neat appearance, and charm. Maybe it was charm. Maybe it was guile and deceit. More than likely, it was pure deceit. When Mrs. Welch asked us to write a physics paper using all the imagination we had, but backed up with science, I wrote one which explained how the speed of light could be exceeded. Bear in mind that Albert Einstein had thoroughly covered the subject by explaining what happens to mass as it approaches the speed of light and what theoretically happens, should it achieve the speed of light (the mass becomes infinite), I wrote a paper, complete with illustrations, showing photons intersecting, with a photon moving northeast slightly clipping, from the rear oblique, a photon moving southeast, propelling it to a speed in excess of the speed of light.
As everyone knows by now, a photon (a particle of light) most often acts like a wave rather than a particle of mass, and in the scenario I described, the photons would most likely continue to act wavelike and pass through each other. That's what I thought back in 1962 when I wrote the paper. That's what I think now.
Mrs. Welch came to class a week later to pass back our papers, and she began to talk about a most exceptional student she had the privilege of teaching and that this student had written the most outstanding paper she had ever read, either in high school, in college, or in the professional field. I thought it was surely Don Hobgood (the eventual valedictorian) or Larry Howdyshell (the eventual salutatorian) or maybe Arnold Kenerly (an electronics wizard), but then she gave the name and asked me to stand.
Laughter filled the classroom, and Mrs. Welch was irritated.
I always could write a good game.
Mrs. Welch thought I was a good kid. That all changed about a week later when she entered the classroom after excusing herself to go to the office or somesuch and caught me throwing a pencil across the room at someone whose identity I no longer recall. In Kingston, the usual behavior when a teacher left the room was to throw and dodge paperwads, rubber bands, etc., and I was following normal rules of pencil-throwing, i.e., to throw in a manner so the rubber eraser was the nose of the projectile. The intended target ducked, and there was a collective gasp as it appeared that the pencil was going to hit Mrs. Welch. Fortunately, it hit the metal door-jamb next to her head and bounced harmlessly across the room, landing on her desk.
The classroom became very quiet.
Mrs. Welch just stood there, glaring at me.
After walking silently to her desk and staring down at the pencil for a few moments, she looked around the classroom and told us, "When I was a little girl, a small child, my mother told me that a pencil could be a very helpful tool when used properly. She also told me that it could put out an eye if used with disregard of my safety or the safety of others."
Then she sat down and asked me to come to her desk. I did.
"Pick up your pencil."
I did, and started back to my desk.
"Come back. I haven't dismissed you."
She handed me her tape dispenser and told me to tear off two pieces of tape.
I did as ordered.
Then she had me tape the pencil to the right upper corner of the blackboard (actually, they just painted them green a year before) and to sign under it, in chalk, my name. She had me print underneath it, in small letters, "This is a pencil. It is used for writing. If used improperly, it can put out an eye."
My pencil stayed there until the end of the year.
It may be there still.
I'm still looking for a way to propel a photon to a speed in excess of the speed of light. I haven't found it yet, but I think Mrs. Welch thought I already had.
Before returning to Mrs. Welch and exceeding the speed of light considerations, I must comment on the only other player from Kingston to play at Tennessee by the time I entered the University of Tennessee. His name was Pud Jackson. Pud most often lined up as a tackle on offense but sometimes played fullback or blocking back, when the Yellowjackets employed the then-popular single wing. His most spectacular plays were when the left end stepped into the backfield and the wingback on the right side stepped onto the line on the right side, leaving Pud as a tackle-eligible player, either to receive a pass or to "pull" into the backfield for a statue of liberty play. I don't know how much he weighed back then, but by the time he got back to the line of scrimmage as a ball carrier, it took four or five guys from the other team to pull him down, and he was always good for five yards or so. And when the `Jackets got to the opponent's three or four-yard line, Pud lined up as fullback, and the opponents might as well just get out of the way, because he was going to score, and anyone who tried to stop him was in for some serious punishment.
Pud worked his way up to second-string defensive tackle for the Vols, and everybody from Kingston thought the U.T. coaching staff must be daft for not using him on offense. Boy, talk about dumb!
As a freshman at U.T., I was about to take down the opposing quarterback for a safety, but a blocker had other ideas, and he didn't mind being penalized half the distance to the goal to take me out but good with a vicious clip, resulting in my head being in about its normal position, except upside down 6' off the ground, and my feet straight up in the air. My helmet was knocked off and I hit the ground with the right side of my face, leaving it minus an epidermis long enough for it to re-grow under the scabs. Man, was I ever a sight! The coach made the entire freshman team line up and come by and shake my hand for the effort and apologize to me for not playing as hard as I did.
Lots of good it did me.
It was a little tough to get a date for a month.
Back to Mrs. Welch.
Mrs. Welch was a classy lady with high standards. I wasn't. Well, I never was a lady, but I never had high standards either. For about 45 years, I was often able to get by on my youthful looks, neat appearance, and charm. Maybe it was charm. Maybe it was guile and deceit. More than likely, it was pure deceit. When Mrs. Welch asked us to write a physics paper using all the imagination we had, but backed up with science, I wrote one which explained how the speed of light could be exceeded. Bear in mind that Albert Einstein had thoroughly covered the subject by explaining what happens to mass as it approaches the speed of light and what theoretically happens, should it achieve the speed of light (the mass becomes infinite), I wrote a paper, complete with illustrations, showing photons intersecting, with a photon moving northeast slightly clipping, from the rear oblique, a photon moving southeast, propelling it to a speed in excess of the speed of light.
As everyone knows by now, a photon (a particle of light) most often acts like a wave rather than a particle of mass, and in the scenario I described, the photons would most likely continue to act wavelike and pass through each other. That's what I thought back in 1962 when I wrote the paper. That's what I think now.
Mrs. Welch came to class a week later to pass back our papers, and she began to talk about a most exceptional student she had the privilege of teaching and that this student had written the most outstanding paper she had ever read, either in high school, in college, or in the professional field. I thought it was surely Don Hobgood (the eventual valedictorian) or Larry Howdyshell (the eventual salutatorian) or maybe Arnold Kenerly (an electronics wizard), but then she gave the name and asked me to stand.
Laughter filled the classroom, and Mrs. Welch was irritated.
I always could write a good game.
Mrs. Welch thought I was a good kid. That all changed about a week later when she entered the classroom after excusing herself to go to the office or somesuch and caught me throwing a pencil across the room at someone whose identity I no longer recall. In Kingston, the usual behavior when a teacher left the room was to throw and dodge paperwads, rubber bands, etc., and I was following normal rules of pencil-throwing, i.e., to throw in a manner so the rubber eraser was the nose of the projectile. The intended target ducked, and there was a collective gasp as it appeared that the pencil was going to hit Mrs. Welch. Fortunately, it hit the metal door-jamb next to her head and bounced harmlessly across the room, landing on her desk.
The classroom became very quiet.
Mrs. Welch just stood there, glaring at me.
After walking silently to her desk and staring down at the pencil for a few moments, she looked around the classroom and told us, "When I was a little girl, a small child, my mother told me that a pencil could be a very helpful tool when used properly. She also told me that it could put out an eye if used with disregard of my safety or the safety of others."
Then she sat down and asked me to come to her desk. I did.
"Pick up your pencil."
I did, and started back to my desk.
"Come back. I haven't dismissed you."
She handed me her tape dispenser and told me to tear off two pieces of tape.
I did as ordered.
Then she had me tape the pencil to the right upper corner of the blackboard (actually, they just painted them green a year before) and to sign under it, in chalk, my name. She had me print underneath it, in small letters, "This is a pencil. It is used for writing. If used improperly, it can put out an eye."
My pencil stayed there until the end of the year.
It may be there still.
I'm still looking for a way to propel a photon to a speed in excess of the speed of light. I haven't found it yet, but I think Mrs. Welch thought I already had.
Tennessee-North Carolina 1-2-3-4
In early colonial days, North Carolina was at one time given rights over land from the Atlantic Ocean to the Mississippi River, i.e., the right to issue land grants, etc., but later, the land west of the Appalachians became Territory South of the Ohio, then the failed State of Franklin (8 counties in East Tennessee) then in 1796, Tennessee was admitted into the Union at the 16th State.
Today, that territory contains the top four-ranked men's basketball teams in the Premier Division of the NCAA. This weekend, #1 Memphis hosts #2 University of Tennessee (Knoxville-main campus). Just to the East, in the parent state of North Carolina, we find #3 and #4 University of North Carolina and Duke University, close neighbors. The following weekend, #4 Duke hosts #3 North Carolina. Duke won the first meeting at Chapel Hill.
Today, that territory contains the top four-ranked men's basketball teams in the Premier Division of the NCAA. This weekend, #1 Memphis hosts #2 University of Tennessee (Knoxville-main campus). Just to the East, in the parent state of North Carolina, we find #3 and #4 University of North Carolina and Duke University, close neighbors. The following weekend, #4 Duke hosts #3 North Carolina. Duke won the first meeting at Chapel Hill.
Other ranked teams from this area this week are:
#16 Vanderbilt, from Nashville, TN
and in women's basketball,
#2 North Carolina, and
#3 Tennessee.
A hotbed?
Yep.
~ at least for now ~
Monday, February 18, 2008
The Eagle Rock (a dance movement)
First you put your knees together, close up tight,
Then you sway 'em to left , then you sway 'em to the right.
(a modified Georgia Grind)
Step around the floor kind of nice and light,
(a Cat Walk?)
Then you twist around, and twist around with all your might,
(a hip / Pelvis Roll)
Stretch your ever-lovin' arms way out in space,
(like extended eagle wings)
Then you do the Eagle Rock with style and grace,
Swing your foot way 'round, then bring it back,
Now that's what I call ballin' the jack"...
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
In a 1942 Gene Kelly movie, this song and dance
was displayed. In 1951, Dean Martin did the
song and dance. How many, oh, how many times
have we all been asked, "What's the Eagle Rock
and how do you do it?" Next time someone asks
you, you tell `em:
"The eagle rock dance movement is performed by
extending the arms like outstretched eagle wings
and gently swaying back and forth emulating the
movements of an eagle floating in the wind."
Then you sway 'em to left , then you sway 'em to the right.
(a modified Georgia Grind)
Step around the floor kind of nice and light,
(a Cat Walk?)
Then you twist around, and twist around with all your might,
(a hip / Pelvis Roll)
Stretch your ever-lovin' arms way out in space,
(like extended eagle wings)
Then you do the Eagle Rock with style and grace,
Swing your foot way 'round, then bring it back,
Now that's what I call ballin' the jack"...
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
In a 1942 Gene Kelly movie, this song and dance
was displayed. In 1951, Dean Martin did the
song and dance. How many, oh, how many times
have we all been asked, "What's the Eagle Rock
and how do you do it?" Next time someone asks
you, you tell `em:
"The eagle rock dance movement is performed by
extending the arms like outstretched eagle wings
and gently swaying back and forth emulating the
movements of an eagle floating in the wind."
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