Thursday, May 20, 2004

Well, it's been about 6000 people since I've had some real time off, and I am a hurting unit. I think I am getting sick (hoping it's just allergies), and I am so terribly beat down.

Tomorrow begins ten days of Astronomy-free living. I will be away from computers for that whole time. I just wanted to warn you all of an impending lack of Bloggery.

See you on the other side...
Lack of Communication Skills.

A group just stood me up. It happens. Not a LOT, but sometimes. I was surprised this time, since it was someone related to the college. So, I called the school to find out what the deal was... I might have a mistake on my schedule.

"Hello?" the school receptionist answered.

I asked if this was the school which I was trying to contact.

"Yeah," she told me.

I asked for the teacher responsible for the trip.

"She in class," I was told.

"OK," I said. "Maybe you could help me. This is the main office?"

"Yeah," she said.

"OK, I had her on my schedule for a Planetarium trip today. Do you know of any classes that were supposed to go to a Planetarium today or any other day close to today?" I asked.

"Planetarium?" she asked.

"Right," I said.

"Trip?" she asked.

"Exactly. Planetarium trip," I said.

"I don't know nothin bout no Planetarium trip," she told me.

"I see," I said. "Well, do you know when a good time to speak with the teacher might be?"

"After school," the woman told me.

"Right," I said, "When does she get out of class?"

"Oh, she got class all afternoon," she said.

"I see. What time does she get out of class?" I asked.

"Regular time," she told me. She started sounding really pissed off.

"Would that be 3:00? 4:00? 5:00?" I asked.

"What you think this is? This is regular school." she said.

"Right. So what time does a regular school get done?" I asked.

"Three. Uh. Clock." she said it slow, big pause between words, as if I had a learning, or perhaps hearing, disability.

"Thanks."

I don't even think I'm going to bother to call back.

Wednesday, May 19, 2004

A Show and a Meal.

I had some third graders come through today. I have never been so happy to see this age group. They were older than FOUR! And that's all I've seen for most of the week.

They were OK, and I actually went and did a bunch of stuff with them -- it was a chock-full program; it was actually a bit longer than an hour, even.

They had brought their lunches, which is rather different. I think they planned on eating outside, but it was quite stormy.

Anyway, I really didn't have time to answer questions, so I did something stupid. I will NEVER forgive myself for this -- I said:

"Listen -- I need to reset the machine for the next program, but that just takes me a few minutes. Tell you what, I'll do that, and I'll grab a bite to eat and meet you all in the cafe, and I'll answer questions over lunch."

If my own brain could punch me, it would have. "HEY, STUPID!! You have a few minutes between programs and you have decided to spend it with 3rd graders!! YOU DON'T LIKE KIDS!!!"

I really don't know what my problem is.

So, I grabbed a salad, tossed some balsamic vinegar on it, and went and sat amongst the 3rd graders. Most of them had questions about 'your anus' which, honestly, is a joke that NEVER gets old (sarcasm, sarcasm).

But it wasn't anything too horrible. A couple kids decided to chew on things and then show it to their friends. Some combined foods in odd new ways, which was also a little tummy-churning, but not too bad.

They were getting ready to leave, and I was finally ready to go on with my life when one of the kids said, "My YU-GI-OH cards!!"

"What about them?" a teacher asked.

"I think I tossed them away accidentally!" he told her.

"We are NOT going through the garbage for them," she told him. Good girl, I thought.

He started to whine and pout, said they were in a zippy bag, he just needed to get them back. And then she asked which garbage can he dumped it into. He pointed it out, and it was right next to where I was still sitting. I decided to be a nice guy and I took the cover off so he could look in.

He looked in.

"I don't see them!" he moaned. He looked in a lot of pain. He glanced at me, and glanced down at the garbage can. He was seriously about to cry.

The garbage cans are rather large. He was too short to actually reach in a sift through the garbage.

So, I shook my head, handed the garbage top to him and plunged in up to my elbows sorting through mostly-eaten third-grader detritus.

My hand clasped a zippy bag with the shape of a deck of playing cards in it. I shook off the bread crusts, partially eaten fruit roll-ups, and various cold cuts, and handed the bag to him. He accepted it with glee, and they left.

Just when I think I have done it all, I sift through garbage.

This must be why we sell out shows -- it has nothing to do with the actual quality of the program, it's the word of mouth telling of the lengths I will go to make people happy -- "You should go to the Planetarium. I have no idea if he is a good astronomer, but he'll fish stuff out of the garbage for you!"
SSSKKKKKQQQQQRRRRREEEEEEEEHHHHKKK

TWO DAYS IN A ROW I have had to deal with shrieking children. SHRIEKING! Just from seeing the laser pointer on the ceiling. I would try to point out something, and the 4 year olds would shriek at the top of their lungs. You really haven't lived until you've heard 45 four-year-olds shriek in unison. ESPECIALLY if it is in a dome-shaped room that focuses and reverbates the sound directly into your brain.

Owch.

SO, I had to try to do the program without being able to show the kids what I was talking about. "There's a constellation up there in the shape of a lion. Try to find it, since I can't point it out to you! Good luck!"

I have no idea how parents deal with that sound. If I ever had a kid, the first time I heard that sound, I would take that child back and ask for a replacement. "I'm sorry, this child is broken. I need one that doesn't make a sound like rusty nails on broken glass on a chalkboard. Thank you."

It was the most horrible noise I have ever heard.

So I skimmed through the program... I just touched on most of the points I usually do -- showed some constellations, planets, two short films, and they were gone in 40 minutes.

As they were leaving, one of the teachers came up to me as told me, "Wow! That was great! You are SO GOOD with the kids!"

Two thoughts raced through my mind at the same instant:


  1. I would really like to choke this person to death right now.
  2. What would have been consider a BAD interaction with the kids?!? Swinging like monkeys from the machine, and urinating on it??

Hell week (month) continues.

I have not posted in a day or two because it's been way too crazy around here. THANK (insert chosen deity here) THAT I ONLY HAVE ONE MORE DAY OF THIS.

Of course that day will be filled with 4 shows, filled with tiny little children, and broken up with an ultra-conservative Christian group that won't let me talk about things more than 6,000 years old.

My brain is in pain.

Friday, May 14, 2004

Fall down, go boom.

I turned on the machine yesterday morning, and a few moments later, there was a pop, a fizzle, another sound I can't really describe, and, all of a sudden -- NO STARS. The stars were gone.

The stars are kind of a pretty important part of my presentation, seeing as I work in a Planetarium. One of the MOST important things. It's sort of the hook that gets people into it -- that dome covered with thousands of stars.

And now I must clarify -- only half the stars were gone -- the Northern Hemisphere. As I live in the Northern Hemisphere, and discuss stars mainly seen in the Northern Hemisphere, this was a problem.

Occasionally, we will blow a bulb in the machine. It happens. I had a bad feeling about this one, though. And, as I removed the mechanism that holds the bulb, I could immediately tell that the bulb was intact.

The socket it sits in was not.

The socket has a base made of ceramic -- the bulb itself is a 500 watt bulb that is approximately the size of your pinky. It's a dinky little bulb that gets REALLY hot. REALLY hot. Too hot for a metal socket. The ceramic won't melt.

But apparently, after 32 years of getting hot then cold then hot then cold then hot then cold, it will explode.

I switched the Southern Hemisphere and the Northern Hemisphere sockets so I could at least talk about SOME of the sky... well, MOST of the sky. But about 1/3 of the sky is missing. Ugh.

Yesterday was not a good day.

The machine is dying. **--sigh--** The school probably won't buy a new one -- they start in the neighborhood of $500,000.

HEY! If any of the Blog readers have $500,000, we could use that here in the Planetarium!! We will NAME THE PLANETARIUM AFTER YOU!! Imagine it!! The [insert your name] Planetarium!! And free admission to every show we will ever do.

At $5 a ticket, you only need to attend 100,000 shows, and it pays for itself!

Thank you, mysterious benefactor, in advance, for your help.

Wednesday, May 12, 2004

Photographic evidence.

HEY! I can post pictures!! So now I can provide some photographic proof of some of the incidents. I must just drag my digital camera everywhere.

As a test, here's a pic I took from ON STAGE (my first stage performance...it was pretty groovy), and showing 3-d pictures of the surface of Mars.




Don't they look excited??

Posted by Hello

Tuesday, May 11, 2004

Lost.

I just got done with the third show of the day. I am grumpy and tired, and not looking forward to the rest of the week. Four shows, every day. My calves are currently screaming at me, since I am unable, apparently, to sit when I talk. I TRY! I tell myself, "Self, sit down when you talk. You're going to kill your legs." So I sit on the tall stool I SPECIFICALLY got to get me to sit more. I get yammering, and all of a sudden I notice I am ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE STINKING ROOM! Standing up! What the heck? I don't even notice it.

Anyway, that was a totally tangential rant. My brain is a little frazzled. Sorry.

I got done with the third show, and the main guy who set it up asked me, "Can you help me get back to the bus?"

"Isn't it right up at the top of the hill?" I asked him.

"No. We walked up a hill. And we got totally lost."

"Do you know what lot you were in?" I asked.

"No," he told me.

"Do you remember what direction you came from?" I asked.

"No," he told me.

"Do you remember anything that might help me help you find you bus?"

"Not really," he said.

"So the bus is in the wrong place. Some mysterious place."

"Basically," he said.

"Then I really don't think I can help you find it."


We wandered around campus for a while. I saw some bus-yellow through a tree and sent them off in that direction. I think they made it -- I haven't heard anything back about possible lost children.


It's going to be a long week.

Tuesday, May 04, 2004

Haunting me some more.

Ah, the wonder of a birthday party. A couple months ago, I complained about the craziest birthday party ever.

Apparently, the mother was so happy, she decided to tell the world about how great an idea it was! There is a website called "Birthday Party Ideas".

At least it won an honorable mention award.


See?? I don't make this stuff up!
Odd Ingredient.

I have been showing the CGI video of the Mars Exploration Rovers for almost a year now, it seems. It has provided much Blog fodder.

Part of the video shows the rover drilling into a Mars rock, and then a microscope views the inside of the Mars rock. I mention that this can tell us a lot about what the rocks are made of.

Here is a still from that moment of the video:


I had a fifth grade class today. When that image came on one of them told me, "Apparently THAT rock is made of cows."

It was quite funny.

Monday, May 03, 2004

Still too small.

I know 83% of my Blogs are whining about how the kids are too young for me to cope with. And I know that 60% of those Blogs start with me reminding you all that 83% of my Blogs are whining about how the kids are too young for me to cope with.

This one is one of those Blogs.

Last week was a zoo around here, so this actually happened during the middle of last week.

They were nursery school kids, so they arrive in separate cars. I let some of them in and went out to wait for the rest. When I came back, the kids were all singing "It's a Small World After All." Normally this is a terribly annoying song. But at least it has a couple lines, and eventually the melody resolves itself. NOT THIS TIME: this kids were merely singing the melody of the first line OVER AND OVER. Usually, the song 'ends' at "It's a small, small world." These kids never got off the first line. It was mind numbing. I thought I was being brainwashed for a cult.

As I was standing in the doorway concentrating on not having an aneurysm, a late arriving child blew past my legs and ran into the room. He stopped short and turned around to who I believe to be his mother, who was standing right behind me, and said "HEY! You lied to me!"

I thought he was talking to me!!

"I did?" I asked him. "I don't think I said anything!" I was worried that I WAS being brainwashed!

"He's talking to me, I think," said a voice behind me, the mother.

The kid continued, squealing, "There's no stars on the ceiling!! You said there's be stars on the ceiling!"

"There will be," his mother told him. I nodded in agreement. He still seemed dissatisfied.


I began the program, and some stars started appearing. Sometimes I ask in the middle of the darkening room, "How many stars do you see?" It's obviously uncountable, they are all over the room, and more are appearing every second, but it's fun to hear people try. I use it on the older kids, they know it's a joke, they laugh a little and we move on. I asked this time, and the answer was one kid yelling, "Ten-twenty-four!"

Oh, good. The kids don't even know how to count yet. I love it when I have people in my planetarium that use numbers like "eighty-hundred".

"Ten-twenty-four," I repeated it back to them. "Yeah. That's about right." I was not looking forward to rest of the program.


A lot of the little kid programs discuss how you can't live on other planets or the moon. We were talking about the moon, and I told them that "There is some things we need to live. The moon is missing something, which makes it so we can't live there. Does anyone know what that is?"

Usually I hear "air" or "water" pretty quickly. But there was a long pause this time. About a minute passed, and I was about to let them all off the hook when a kid tried, "...Ba... Ba... Bathrooms?"

I gave up. "True!" I told him. "No bathrooms! Anything else missing??"

Now the kids got into it... they all came up with their own ideas. And I let them go for a while.

"Beds!"
"Forks!"
"Cookies!"
"Swings!"
"Milk!"
"Dogs!"

The teachers tried to shush them after a while but I didn't care.

It actually really made me think about things for a minute. It is likely that this was a list of things those kids consider necessary. There is a quality of life issue here, that these kids have a greater concern for.

Sure there's no air on the moon, but who cares even if there is air if you can't have a dog, and an occasional cookie?! Point well taken, little ones.
Busy.

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