George's Valedictory Letter

So this is a blog post about a blog post about an open letter to the American people.

Let's start at the chronological beginning of that sentence which is at the grammatical end.

The open letter in question was published some 221 years ago in what turned out to be America's first successful daily newspaper, Philadelphia's American Daily Advertiser.  It was quickly picked up by other newspapers across the nascent country and was also turned into a pamphlet for even wider distribution.

The primary author of the letter had help.  His first unsigned co-author was the "Father of the Constitution," James Madison.  The letter was set aside when circumstances changed and it was temporarily not applicable.  Then, four years later, Alexander Hamilton helped the primary author update and finish the letter.  The author was George Washington.  The first version was set aside when, at the end of his first term, Washington changed his previously made up mind and decided to run for a second term.  The updated version of the letter came about when Washington decided that twice was enough and he wanted nothing more than to retire to Mt. Vernon.  The letter was originally published with the title, "The Address of General Washington To The People of The United States on his declining of the Presidency of the United States."  It was later renamed and we still know it today by that name: Washington's Farewell Address.

James Madison, Father of the Constitution, Father of the Bill of Rights, but not of any actual children

Lin-Manuel Miranda, as portrayed by Alexander Hamilton

George Washington, 1st US President, Infamous slaughterer of cherry trees

Pretty much everyone's heard of the Address, and some have heard of one of the more famous passages, an admonition against permanent foreign alliances (if you heard it as entangling alliances, as I did, well, that's actually from Thomas Jefferson's first inaugural address, five years after Washington's missive of departure).  But I'd wager that few have read it, and I'd be willing to wager a lot that even fairly fanatic history buffs such as myself have not read the whole thing.

Why am I so sure?  Because Washington's Farewell Address to the nation he helped create and get up and running is 6,144 words of what is to modern ears dense, highly-convoluted prose.  Unless you're experienced with 19th century writing and really determined to read it, it is at times nearly impenetrable.  There's a single sentence near the end - one that's not a run-on or compound sentence - that has 58 words, broken up with 11 commas.  That sentence is actually one of the easy ones to read.

I bring this up because of a blog post about Washington's Farewell Address that I just came across.  It was written 10 years ago by Randall Munroe, author of the nerdy/geeky webcomic, xkcd.com.  In this post, Munroe took the time (probably quite a bit of it) to translate the Address into common, current language. 

The results of Munroe's efforts are remarkable.  The Address becomes understandable to speakers of 21st century English. As an example, here are the first two paragraphs of the Address, as written by George (and Company):

The period for a new election of a citizen, to administer the executive government of the United States, being not far distant, and the time actually arrived, when your thoughts must be employed designating the person, who is to be clothed with that important trust, it appears to me proper, especially as it may conduce to a more distinct expression of the public voice, that I should now apprize you of the resolution I have formed, to decline being considered among the number of those out of whom a choice is to be made.

I beg you at the same time to do me the justice to be assured that this resolution has not been taken without a strict regard to all the considerations appertaining to the relation which binds a dutiful citizen to his country; and that in withdrawing the tender of service, which silence in my situation might imply, I am influenced by no diminution of zeal for your future interest, no deficiency of grateful respect for your past kindness, but am supported by a full conviction that the step is compatible with both.

Like I said, dense and convoluted writing style.  But the ideas being conveyed aren't so difficult. Here is Munroe's translation:

Elections are coming up, and it’s time to figure out who we wanna give the keys to.  I figure it might clear things up if I take a sec to explain why I’m not running.

Now, I care about the future, don’t get me wrong, and thanks for your trust so far.  I just think me quitting is a good idea on all counts.

I’ve been president twice now, and I didn’t want to do it either time.  I tried to quit the first time, but the country was in trouble and every single person around me begged me to stay on.

I’m glad to say we’re pretty much in the clear now and I can get out of here without getting screamed at or letting things fall apart completely.

-->

My favorite part, though, is the salutation.  Washington opened with, "Friends and fellow-citizens" which Munroe rendered as, "Sup."

What makes Munroe's translation a must-read, however, is not his entertaining treatment of the work, his breezy style, and the roughly 45% reduction in word count to 2,270.  No, what makes this a must-read is Washington's prescience and how applicable the Farewell Address still is, well over two centuries into the future.

About the only thing Washington didn't foresee was the nullification of his strong and rational reasoning behind the advice against permanent foreign alliances.  Washington (as well as many Presidents after him) were worried that those alliances with major powers like Britain, France, Spain and the Netherlands would lead to perpetual servitude of the little, mostly powerless United States.  He couldn't foresee the US becoming the most militarily and economically powerful and culturally dominating country ever. 

There are many other ideas that George did get right and still apply.  I won't list them here because Munroe's translation is so good that I can't do it justice paraphrasing it.  So go to the xkcd blog and read it for yourself: https://blog.xkcd.com/2007/01/29/washingtons-farewell-address-translated-into-the-vernacular/

And if you want to see the original, it can be found at 
https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Washington%27s_Farewell_Address 

This is Why You Don't Have a Job

I was poring over a pile of applications for a data manager job we had open a few years ago and started sending random e-mails to my section about some of the amusing things I was seeing in them (de-identified, of course). Liz, a 20-something member of my team, appeared in my office doorway, laughing, and said, “You need to put these in a book and call it ‘This is Why You Don’t Have a Job.’”

I haven’t accumulated enough observations to write a book, but I can get a blog post out of them.

I want to start out with a few words about typographical errors. The very first time I looked at a batch of applications I was amazed at how glaring the typos were, even though I wasn’t looking for them. It was as if they leapt off the page and poked me in the eye. The lethality of typos for your job prospects cannot be overstated, especially when the job has any technical components.

My section manages several statewide data systems and performs analysis on the data received. If you cannot take the time to proofread your application to find and correct a typo, I cannot trust that you will double check your database query to make sure you didn’t put in > when you meant <, especially when there is time pressure and we have to get it right the first time. There are plenty of other qualified applicants out there so if there’s a typo in your application, I’m not giving you an interview.

Related to typos, THE USE OF CAPS LOCK IS HIGHLY DISCOURAGED BY THIS AUTHOR. Similarly, using no caps is also frowned upon, especially when typing your name and address, such as applicant john q. public who lived on scioto-darby road in hilliard, ohio.

That being said, here are some of my applicant observations:

• This is a copy-and-paste from an applicant’s description of their job duties: “Identification of billing inaccuaracies and correcting such problems.” Reread that one if you have to.
• Address of current employer: “30 eat Broad St.” (Yum!)
• Job Duties: “Preformed wound care according to doctor’s orders.”
• Position Title: “part of a team assisting”
• Objective: “To get a job with benefits.” That certainly is honest…
• Please don’t use words you don’t really understand. The phrase regarding desired pay is “commensurate with my degree” not “commiserate with my degree.”
• Pro tip: If your application contains the phrase “See resume” it’s best to attach a resume. It reflects an eye for detail.
• Objective: “To become an indispensable part of an organization that inspires their employees to challenge themselves and make a difference within the company and society.” You do realize that you’re applying for a bureaucrat job, right? The only time we use the word inspire is when we need a synonym for inhale.
• Objective: “Wish to pursue career in investigative field.” Well, since you’re applying for a data manager position, I’m just going to wish you the best of luck in your pursuit.
• Objective: “To use my knowledge in public relations, human resources, investigations, law enforcement, and out of this knowledge to use in the position I am hired for.” Boy, he had me hooked for a while there, but then he ended the sentence with a preposition.
• Objective: “To make the department/company/organization, etc… better for being there.” Good luck in your job/career/employment, etc… search.
• Work experience: “Employer - Big City Schools, 8/2004 to 8/2011; Duties - A; Reason for leaving - Uncertainty in position. Budget cuts resulted in reduction of hours. Need full time position.” The applicant was unemployed at the time, which is curious considering how many companies are scrambling to find people with experience in performing A.
• An applicant states she attended a university from 1976 through 2007. She did get a degree. She didn’t get an interview but did make my first cut, mainly because I was curious to learn more about a person who takes 124 quarters to get a BA.
• An applicant states he currently works at the Buddhist Center in a different city but that we may not contact that employer. That got me thinking, just how hard do you have to work to piss off Buddhists so much that they’ll say bad things about you?
• Applicant states she attended Ohio State from 2001 through 2003 majoring in Undecided, then went to University of Cincinnati from 2003 to 2004 to continue her studies in Undecided, and has attended Columbus State from 2001 to present (that's a 2 year overlap of learning in both Columbus and Cincinnati), going for her AD in business management and graphic design. Current employer? Department of Education.  If that’s her idea of work-life balance, for her own sake, I don’t think she should work at Public Safety.
• Summary of qualifications: “I am keeper of office supplies.” Is this an admission of kleptomania, or do I need a +2 sword to slay her and get the sacred Cartridge of Toner?
• “I have the strong ability to complete routine forms.” Well, alright, I think we have our new data manager!

After hiring the new data manager, we had other, more technically specialized positions open, namely epidemiologists and statisticians. Here are some more from those rounds of applicants...

• If you have three typos in the name of two of your schools, you might want a refund.
• If you’ve got so much jargon in your application and resume that I have to run it through Google Translate to figure out what you’re going on about, you’re not getting an interview.
• Objective: “My career objective is to find a long term career with a dynamic company…” No, no, no! This is bureaucracy. It’s the opposite of dynamic.
• One applicant left the US Postal Service as a letter carrier “looking for a more challenging and mutually rewarding professional career.” Current job? Supervising bartender.
• “My objective is to obtain employment in Business Administration, Labor Relations and Human Resources, which is my major field of education.” Glad he made that clear. I was about to sidetrack his career aspirations with a job as a biostatistician.
• It’s reassuring to see so many people applying who are “self-starters.” I’m getting tired of having to hand-crank my employees every morning. Seriously, though, stop using that term; it doesn’t work the way you think it will.
• Employee of Head Start has the objective, ”To secure a position to aid children and families in identifying and connecting services that assist in the betterment of the community, families and the individual.” No, dear, that’s where you work now. Why are you applying here?
• Objective: “Secure a rewarding position to help me the organizational goals.” Applicant also had two typos in name of one educational institution.
• Applicant submitted his college transcript. He earned 2/3 credit for “Beginning Tennis.”
• Another applicant submitted the college transcript for his law degree. He failed Employment Discrimination, got a D in Constitutional Law but earned an A in Money Laundering.
• Objective: “To utilize my skill set, experiences, and education to impact the lives of young adults and those who facilitate with the habilitation and rehabilitation.” I’m not sure what to say, I just thought this was an interesting sentence.
• “I have obtain a college degree in the area of communication, and while in college I also took classes that is related to the opening position.” That am good and I are impressed. (I swear I did not make this one up.)
• We lucked out and found THE. Perfect. Candidate. She did a cut-n-paste into the application of our position description’s minimum qualifications in its entirety. This includes the “–OR– “ where it says the candidate "Must have X –OR– Must have Y –OR– Must have Z.
• A phrase I never expected to read anywhere, least of all in an application: Drosophila husbandry.
• Objective: “to get into a Master’s or Ph.D. program of psychology or criminology, by which a state job or internship could help me achieve.” Call me old-fashioned and stodgy, but I prefer the traditional route of using education to get a job, not vice versa. And given the grammar of that sentence, that education may be doubly helpful.
• Brevity is admirable, except in job applications, where you're supposed to talk yourself up. Entire summary of qualifications: “College graduate.”

The morals of this story include:

• Proofread.
• Have somebody else critically review your application.
• Proofread.
• Make sure your objective is at least somewhat related to the job for which you are applying.
• Proofread, proofread, PROOFREAD!

I will end with my personal favorite:

• Objective: “I have no objective and will give this job 100%.”

Eclipse Addendum

Two things about the eclipse of 2017 that I failed to mention in my previous post (http://timerskinephotography.blogspot.com/2017/08/a-hole-in-fabric-of-sky.html).

First, I didn't publish any pictures of the eclipse after totality because none of them turned out. When I did the second shot of totality, a wide angle one, I must have bumped the focus ring on my lens when I went back to full zoom. The Bailey Beads are just little fuzzy spots and the Diamond Ring is more like a fur collar. It was a stupid, frustrating rookie mistake. 😆

Second, after most everyone had departed the viewing area I noticed something both strange and wonderful: no trash. I looked the length of the viewing area. No bags or bottles or papers. There was one napkin in the grass, which from the looks of it and where it was, was probably there before we were. Everybody took out what they brought in. A Facebook post from the National Park Service rangers at Grand Teton National Park reported much the same thing happened there, too. They were gearing up for a huge mess and there was barely anything at all for them to pick up. Given the number of people they had there, this gives one a bit of faith in humanity, despite the current media-amplified voices of protest, counter-protest, and counter-counter-protest.

A Hole in the Fabric of the Sky

The total solar eclipse of 2017 crossed the US from Oregon to South Carolina, a distance of about 2,600 linear miles.  The path of totality, where the moon would completely cover the sun, was 70 miles wide, making the entire area of totality 182,000 square miles, an area about 10% larger than California. Some 12 million people live in that swath of land and millions more would travel to be there when the moon shadow passed. The Missus and I were two of those itinerant seekers of totality.

Path of Totality

We heard about the eclipse nearly three years before when I stumbled across a poster online saying “See the Total Eclipse of 2017 in the Grand Tetons.” I looked up the eclipse and we agreed that there wasn’t going to be anywhere on its path nearly as beautiful to see the eclipse. The Smokies would be pretty but a distant second. We’ve been to the Tetons several times as guests of our friends Dick and Mary Lou. We KNEW it would be THE place. But then we realized that we never go to see Dick and Mary Lou in August in a normal year because of the crowds and bumper-to-bumper traffic in town and in the park. So we agreed there wasn’t any way we were going to venture into the usual sea of humanity heavily augmented by eclipse watchers.

A small college town in southern Illinois (home of the Southern Illinois University Salukis) was the city closest to the point of the longest duration of totality. At a point a few miles southeast of there, totality would last 2 minutes and 40 seconds. Carbondale, population 25,902, was the place we wanted to be.

The eclipse was to happen on Monday, August 21. There were some requests by the celestially obtuse to have the date moved. My friend Andy from Wyoming reported a conversation with a dispatcher for the Wyoming Highway Patrol. The dispatcher received a call from a woman who asked how Wyoming got picked to host the eclipse and whether it wouldn’t be better to have it on the weekend. Andy then quoted Winston Churchill: “The best argument against democracy is a five-minute conversation with the average voter.”

"I may be drunk, Miss, but in the morning I will be sober and you will still be ugly."

But I digress. The eclipse was to happen on Monday, August 21. We were planning on driving from Columbus to Carbondale but life altered our plans when we moved to Virginia. The drive from Cbus to Carbondale would take 7 ½ hours. Completely manageable for us as we did that distance in early 2017, driving to LeClaire, Iowa to see bald eagles. But relocating to Richmond, Virginia (transplanted from Cbus to RVA) made the drive time an untenable 15+ hours. So we booked passage on Delta Airlines from Richmond to St. Louis and rented a car (hired a car, for those readers who are subjects of the Crown) for the 2-hour drive southeast to our target area. Well before any of this happened though, I knew I had to reserve a room early. Like a year out, generally the maximum in advance individuals can make reservations. Because I had not put this on my calendar I started looking for a room 48 hours late, but still, a full 363 days ahead of the eclipse. My tardiness was nearly lethal for our plans: there were no rooms available in Carbondale.

A quick consultation with Google Maps showed another town nearby.  Marion, Illinois (population 17,193) is about 10 miles east of Carbondale with a state highway connecting the two. After trying three hotels in Marion, we managed to get a room at the Hampton Inn, one of only four left for the event. It turns out that staying in Marion was more than a little lucky (more on this later).

We arrived in Marion on Saturday, about 48 hours before the eclipse. We wanted to use the time to explore the area and, more importantly, scout viewing locations. This was a really crucial point on our agenda as the news reports of how many people were going to descend on Carbondale itself (hundreds of thousands) made being in the town itself undesirable for crowd-haters like us.

I should note here that the staff at Hampton Inn – Marion was really ready for this. The lobby was filled with all manner of literature and brochures about the area and eclipse-related activities, well above and beyond what you would normally find, including state highway maps from Illinois Department of Transportation. All guests received a gift bag that had eclipse glasses (legitimate ones, not cheap rip offs), a local eclipse guide, created by the staff, detailing local activities, places to eat, etc. It also had snacks – moon pies, sunflower seeds and Eclipse gum. Well done, Hampton Inn – Marion. Well done.

There was a lot going on in Carbondale to attract multitudes besides 2:40 of totality. A three-day eclipse science show at Southern Illinois University was being put on by an uber-geek's Dream Team of NASA, Chicago’s Adler Planetarium and the Planetary Society. The Weather Channel had reporters scattered across the path of totality, but it dropped two into Carbondale. One of them was Jim Cantore, their resident master of disaster. NOTE: If Cantore ever shows up in your town in foul weather gear, leave. Now. Seriously, don’t ask any questions, just GTFO and don’t look back.

Jim Cantore, Meteorologist

Jim Cantore, Very Bad Sign

Further reading on the eclipse showed that Carbondale was the self-proclaimed town closest to the longest totality but that the actual point of greatest totality was 10 miles southeast of town, in Giant City State Park (GCSP). This spot was pretty much equidistant from Marion as the crow flies, but Carbondale got the jump on the closest town claim.

We found on our scouting expeditions that GCSP was preparing several designated viewing areas and girding their loins for an unprecedented deluge of visitors. Armed with good maps and great senses of direction, we set out to find an alternate route into the park to avoid the obvious route in from Carbondale. We found two routes in that would normally take a lot longer, but would likely bypass most of the vehicular congestion and wind up being quicker.

And then we saw it. Both of our alternate routes into GCSP took us through a portion of Crab Orchard National Wildlife Refuge, and just a couple of miles past the Refuge’s visitor center was a wildlife viewing area. It was perfect. It was on a minor state road, had wide open spaces for viewing, a small but paved parking lot, large grassy areas for setting up our spot (and my camera rig), and most importantly, a Porta-Potty™. If we were going to be there for several hours, this was a must. This viewing area, honoring a long-time volunteer, became Plan A. The designated viewing areas in GCSP became Plans B, C, D, and E. If all these failed, the hotel parking lot was Plan F.

Our Spot was Plan A, Plans B-E were west-northwest of the Point of Longest Totality, Plan F was next to the Walmart.

On the day of the eclipse we awoke at 5 a.m. The start of the eclipse was at 11:52 a.m. Central Daylight Time…it was E-minus 6 hours, 52 minutes. We had some fruit for breakfast, packed our locally-purchased Styrofoam cooler with our locally-purchased sandwich fixings and water and headed out. Then we stopped, headed back into the hotel, and got some liquid methylxanthine CNS stimulants (coffee). Armed with that, we actually hit the road. It was 6 a.m. and the sky was just starting to lighten. We got to the Crab Orchard NWR viewing area 15 minutes later. We were the second car there and backed into the spot we wanted on the far side of the parking lot. E-minus 5 hours, 37 minutes.

Other eclipse watchers trickled in. The next people to show up parked next to us. John and Cathy (or Jon and Kathy, or some such) were from Cambridge, Ohio, about 70 miles east of Columbus. Later, a gentleman in a bright, shiny red Chevy Silverado parked in the grass on the other side of us. Bob was a really nice guy from Rock Island, Illinois. We chatted with our neighbors all morning. By the time the eclipse started, there were nearly 100 people in the viewing area that had fewer than 10 parking spaces. Everybody else was parked on the grass.

The eclipse watchers in the viewing area were from all walks of life, all ages, creeds and colors. Everyone was happy, friendly, excited and anxious for what was about to happen.

I set the alarm on my cell phone to go off at E-minus 1 minute and again at the minute of totality. When reveille (or as it is labeled by my phone, army_wake-up_bugle) sounded loudly, people nearby looked at me. “One minute!” I shouted. I could hear the message get passed down the line in both directions. People began donning their solar glasses and getting into their viewing positions. The half-dozen photographers there, myself included, had already dialed in their focus and exposures but we all now cozied up to our camera eyepieces, made final positioning adjustments to our tripods and waited for the first glimpse of the moon.

It has begun.

Just as I thought I saw the sun’s curvature start to flatten at the 1 o’clock position, the guy three cars away with an outrageously good solar telescope shouted, “There it is!” Thus began the Solar Eclipse of 2017.

Everybody watched in amazement as the moon began to cover more and more of the sun’s surface. Even knowing the mechanics of what was happening – you know, the moon is moving between the earth and the sun – it was still a thing of wonder.

About an hour into the moon’s transit things around us began to change. It had happened gradually but the light was now noticeably different. To me, it was as if I was wearing polarized sunglasses. Everything was still brightly lit, but there was a blue-gray tinge to the light. With sunlight still streaming down onto them, there was no longer any glare coming off of the parked cars. Even Bob’s shiny Silverado failed to shine. The other thing that happened was that crickets started to chirp. They kept that up for about 20 minutes before they decided they were too confused for mating rituals and shut up.

It was at this point, where 70% to 80% of the sun was obscured, that ancient civilizations in the path of an eclipse had to be utterly freaking out. They couldn’t see a cloud in the sky and it yet was getting dark and the temperature was dropping. There weren’t any ophthalmologists to warn them against looking at the sun, so they would have looked up to see the sun disappearing. How frightening that must have been for them. Cultures across the globe and across the millennia have developed different responses to eclipses, including making as much noise as possible to warn the sun of its impending doom.

In 585 BC, it was the sixth year of a bloody, brutal war between the Kingdoms of Medes and Lydia in what is now Anatolia in Turkey. Right in the middle of a battle in May of that year a solar eclipse occurred. Everybody agreed it was an omen. They dropped their weapons, exited the field of combat and immediately declared a truce. A solar eclipse is more powerful than one’s bitter hatred of a mortal enemy.

At E-plus 1 hour, 27 minutes, approximately one minute before totality, light began fading rapidly. It was as if somebody had put the sun on a dimmer switch and was twisting it fast. That was something I hadn’t read about and was startled by it.

At E-plus 1 hour, 28 minutes the last glint of the sun’s surface was enveloped by the moon. Totality had come to Crab Orchard. With so many things to look at that we had never seen before, the next 2 minutes and 40 seconds went by much too fast.

First and most obviously, there was the sun’s corona. Even the clearest, most vivid pictures of it don’t convey how truly awe-inspiring it is to see the thing hanging in the sky. And the center is so dark, so completely black, that it appears that a hole has been cut in the fabric of the sky and surrounded by a silvery mist.

Totality

Next, there was the dark. There was some light but it was like what you see about 45 minutes to an hour after sunset in the summertime. With this dark came stars and the planet Venus, as well as noticeable cold. According to the Weather Channel’s reporters in Carbondale, there was an 8 degree drop at totality – about 5 degrees centigrade.

The other thing to see and marvel at was the 360^o sunset. The horizon was lit with colors of sunset…frosty pink, pastel orange and midnight blue. Seeing this all the way around instead of just to the west where you normally see it was beautiful.

Then there was the sound of the people. Gasps, oohs and aahs, laughter, happy chatter, cheering and shouts of joy, and that was just me! Reactions were quite varied. Some people found it to be magical, some mystical. Some people prayed, others simply wept at the astonishing beauty of the event. Regardless of their reaction, everybody was just overwhelmed by what they were experiencing and trying their best to express it to each other.

160 seconds later it was over. The end of totality was announced by the appearance of Bailey’s Beads, where beads of sunlight began to peek from between mountains on the moon’s surface. This was followed rapidly by the diamond ring where most of the coronal ring is still visible but a large burst of sunlight emerges on one side, creating the look of a diamond ring.

The process of darkening towards totality reversed itself, with the dimmer switch being twisted in the other direction for about a minute, returning Crab Orchard to polarized light and then gently increasing. By E-plus 3 hours, 5 minutes, Luna had completed her transit of Sol.

It was at this point that having lodging in Marion was shown to be one of the luckier things to happen. A half million people were estimated to have gone to Carbondale and they were all trying to go home, with most of them apparently trying to get to the nearest interstate on-ramp, at I-57 in Marion. Had we been staying in Carbondale it would have taken hours to go the 10 miles or so. As it was, we were able to take back and side roads to avoid the crowds. Getting to Crab Orchard NWR took 15 minutes; returning to Hampton Inn took 20. From the comfort of our hotel room we were able to watch the traffic from Carbondale not moving towards I-57, which was at a standstill. In 20 minutes, the same amount of time it took us to get back, a semi tractor-trailer moved the length of one semi tractor-trailer.

I wish that I could better convey the feelings of exhilaration of experiencing totality (and really, you don’t just see it, it is experienced). Since the discovery of what causes eclipses countless poets, writers, philosophers and musicians have experienced totality and none of them have been able to adequately communicate the experience through their tools. So I don’t feel too bad about my incapacity in this case, just a little disappointed. 

I think perhaps the best way to convey the experience is to tell you to seek out the next one. On April 8, 2024, just a little more than 6 ½ years after I write this, a total solar eclipse will once again traverse the US. It will travel from Texas up to Maine. Cities like Dallas, Indianapolis, Cleveland, Buffalo, Rochester and Montreal will be in the path of totality. Interestingly, it will once again cross southern Illinois. And that’s where we will be…in “our spot” at Crab Orchard National Wildlife Refuge.

My pictures of the eclipse can be found in my Flickr account: https://flic.kr/s/aHsm71PdM6

In the Summer of My 14th Year

{Note: I write my posts using Word then copy and paste into the blog.  I wrote this back on January 2nd, saved it and forgot about it.}

In the summer of my 14^th year (I’ve always wanted to use that style opening but have never had the chance)…anyway, as I was saying, it was sometime early in June when I was 14.  I was out of school for the summer (cue Alice Cooper), having somehow survived my freshman year of high school.  One day, Dad said he’d like to go to see a movie over the weekend.  Mom and I said that sounded like a good idea and we suggested we should go to the earliest showing on Sunday, knowing already which movie we were going to take in: A Bridge Too Far.

A Bridge Too Far had been getting a lot of good reviews and the previews I had seen before other movies looked like it was fairly realistic.  The movie was based on the book of the same name by Cornelius Ryan, who had another great WWII book-movie combo in The Longest Day.  Indeed, A Bridge Too Far was probably one of the most realistic depictions of combat until 1998 when Tom Hanks saved Private Ryan and set a new standard in realism.

But when we arrived at the now-defunct Showcase Cinemas on Secor Ave. Dad said, no, he didn’t want to see A Bridge Too Far.  He wanted to see another one, one that neither Mom nor I had heard of and didn’t even sound interesting.  I got insistent – whiny, really – that I wanted to see A Bridge Too Far.  The previews were cool and it wasn’t going to be in the theaters much longer… this was when home VCRs were still a few years in the future and if you missed it in the theaters, too bad.  Dad said no, and he used his definitive, end-of-discussion tone.

For those of you who never had the opportunity to meet James Thomas Erskine, he was a bit larger than life, or at least, as large as life.  He had a certain presence about him.  It wasn’t commanding, but you always knew when he was in the room.  You also have to understand something about his decisiveness.  It was…well…decisive, and pretty much final.  He was a professional firefighter and a Lieutenant on the Toledo Fire Department.  When you’re in that position, you have to be able to rapidly assess and take control of a chaotic situation and start calling the shots.  When you do, you have to give clear, unambiguous orders.  Moreover, you damn well better be right because you are sending or leading your people into harms way, in a way that few people outside public safety services can truly fathom.  Sadly, even when you are clear, unambiguous and right, things sometimes go very, very wrong.  Dad’s decisiveness, while not intransigent, was rarely compromised, and that held true at home, as well.

I was heartbroken that I wasn’t going to see the movie I wanted to see and was going to have to spend 2 hours watching some stoopid movie Dad wanted to see.  As Dad bought the tickets, Mom and I had a quiet sidebar conversation.  She wanted to see A Bridge Too Far, too, and she had also not heard of this movie to which we were about to be subjected.  We both thought it odd that this WWII combat veteran who was fascinated by all things WWII combat was seemingly uninterested in a really good WWII combat flick.

When the movie was over, we emerged from the theater into the familiar warmth of the bright summer sunshine.  Chronologically, it was only about two and a half hours after we entered the cinemas.  Physically, we were still on Secor Ave. in Toledo, Ohio; we were still driving a 1974 AMC Matador to our home at 568 Colima Drive; they were still my parents and I was still their son.  But the universe as I knew it had changed.  An astonishing magnitude of change.  Completely and irrevocably.

In those 121 minutes in the theater I witnessed things that only a few people up to that point had.  Forces of good and evil, battling for supremacy using both swords and spaceships.  Creatures of impossible form – dozens of them – intermingling with humans and each other.  Sentient computers, some able to create holographic messages.  My 14-year old brain was wracked by how real it all was and how much I admired my new heroes and reviled a new set of villains (and let’s not forget one young lady’s really nice figure and jiggly breasts, giving me, or at least lending to, my penchant for brown-eyed brunettes).

The year of my 14th summer was 1977 and the movie that Dad wanted to see and that Mom and I had never heard of was, of course, Star Wars. 

There are bigger Star Wars fans than me.  But there are few who were born after 1970 who will understand how profoundly that movie changed things for those of us who went in to see it with no knowledge of what we were about to see.  Those born later will have had some exposure to light sabers, R2-D2, C3PO, the Millennium Falcon, etc., through extensive merchandising.  Kind of like people born after 1990 are considered ‘digital natives’ and have no idea what life was like before the internet.

These musings of astonishing changes to the universe were brought about by seeing Episode 8: The Force Awakens.  I’m glad that the acting was solid, even if the story was a bit derivative.  After seeing Episode 1: The Phantom Menace, I left the theater thinking that the acting was so utterly horrid that I wouldn’t being shelling out any more cash to subject myself to it.  And I didn’t.  I never went to see the 2^nd and 3^rd episodes, and only caught parts of the 3^rd at home when Brian was watching.

To illustrate my disgust and disdain for the abysmal directing of some very good actors, I had the following conversation on Facebook with one of my friends:

Me: I knew that it wasn't worth a second look when I left the theater thinking that the best actor in the whole movie was Yoda.

KD: R2-D2 carried every scene that he was in.

Me: What?! No way. He was sleep walking through his lines! I have it on good authority that he was hitting the oil bath between every take and his reflexes were almost a microsecond slow through the whole shoot.

KD: He was the only professional on the set! (I heard Liam Neeson asked him for some pointers.) Those ugly rumors about him hitting the oil bath were spread to cover up the fact that he was calling his agent, trying to get out of his contract.

So anyway, the series seems to be back on track and all is well in the post-1977 universe.

May the Force be with you.