Click to enarge if you need to make it bigger
to grok what it's trying to tell you.
Doh I can't believe I thought that was a football
score. Organized team school sports -- I took a Very Wrong Turn by Age 5 and
never found my way back.
Hampshire College nearby, the last of the
Alternative Different Little Colleges of the 60s/70s, they're all very big into
sports, hackysack, frisbee (one kid wrote his Big Paper on frisbee
entrepreneurship), amd they hold a huge summer program for unicycling, juggling,
the goofier circus arts. All sports must be non-competitive, no winners, no
losers, and the whole point is to include all players and encourage
cooperation.
Yesterday at the supermarket I was behind three
lovely young women buying a shopping cart filled with hundreds of bananas. I
couldn't resist, and they explained they were making banana bread to sell and
raise money for their Smith College Frisbee Team.
I also completely spaced on 3/14 until people on
chat started chatting about Pi Day around 01:00. A chatter sent me the big Pi(e)
image. Tonight I brought home a cherry pie and Cynthia, who'd just returned from
visiting an old pal in Maryland, and I ate a slice. The guy who started all this
Pi Day stuff was Robert Oppenheimer's brother, he founded and ran a very
thrilling science museum in San Francisco. (The FBI thought it best not to
invite this brother to work on the Manhattan Project.)
I think from far away reading and TV that Ann
Arbor's water is in no way affected by Flint's woes. Apparently your governor
has the legal authority to retain and hide official documents (like staff memos
about Flint's funky water) and keep them from the media and the public. It takes
a pissed-off Big Judge to force government documents out of the governor's
office.
Originally I wanted a Geiger counter to survey for
uranium in Rock Creek Park near where I lived in DC. Blow me down, the damn
place just clicks that Geiger counter enthusiastically, there is indeed uranium
in Rock Creek Park!
But the little instruction manual had easy little equations,
and if I'd snuck back with shovels, the uranium was worth about 1 cent per dug
ton of dirt. Also the Park Police would start to notice me and my buddies
digging up their park.
I'm sure I told you that in the List of Army
Schools with Openings on the day I got drafted, the nice recruiting sergeant
said I could pick any school on his list that struck my fancy, add 1 year to my
2 year active commitment. The only one that caught my fancy -- remember, I was
very angry and disoriented that week -- was Nuclear Weapons Maintenance and
Repair, in Sandia, New Mexico. I figured I'd learn lots of potentially very
useful information.
But if you think about how long the draft lasted,
and DoD by 1953 had thousands of A-bombs and H-bombs requiring lots of this
arcane MOS/AFS -- well, decades of teaching very angry and possibly unbalanced young
men all about nuclear bombs, there's thousands of them out there, old vets like
us, young Afghanistan and Iraq guys, but we have a Special Skill Set. Ditto the
other big nuclear powers, they put thousands of bright young people on this
Career or Home Hobbyist Path, too.
Look, the world is filled with invisible, odorless,
colorless, practically imperceivable Toxic Powerful Crap. I've known since my youth
prospecting experiences with the $25 PRI portable GC that this box and all its
ilk -- well, suddenly I could perceive the imperceivable, I could see the
invisible. I know colorless's color.The Deadly Toxins could not sneak past me.
You could be sitting on a chair cushion and inside
is a big chunk of radium -- how would you know (other than a warmer than normal
ass)?
But I got these gizmos. I know. I know why my ass
feels hot. My gizmos tells me to FLEE FOR YOUR
LIFE if it ever becomes that kind of situation in the
neighborhood. (There are several models that do just that one job: scream that
you should FLEE FOR YOUR LIFE
NOW BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP .)
Here's the True Story of a Boy Scout (still living,
and he eventually attained Eagle Scout) who flipped to the next merit badge in the Manual: radioactivity.
When last heard from, he lived in your state. Don't
leave him alone with your smoke detectors, he's wild about the chips inside
them, Americium-241, it's hot as hell, it pegs the needle and your gizmo makes a
lot of noise.
[at top of post] is the recently adapted international symbol
for dangerous radioactivity. The idea is that Beavis and Butt-head could
understand what the sign means even if it's 190,000 A.D. and nobody knows how to
read anymore. Did you read the story of the Goiana Accident in
Brazil?
Your old Army pal Joe Schloblodewski
God made me this way, do not criticize or
disrespect the work of God.
Oh, thanks for the pie!
Love to Chris and your bairn. Do any of your bairn
have bairn yet?