December 08 '01
Volume 288
Stargazing Leaping Leonids
For most of my life,
I've I remember hearing my granddad and my dad talk about the constellations such as the big dipper and the little dipper, and the seven sisters, but I never heard them mention Orion. I don't recall the first time I saw the Big Dipper or who pointed it out to me. However, having seen and used a dipper to drink water drawn from a well in a wooden bucket, I was at least familiar with the shape of a dipper and credit that familiarity with helping me visualize the heavenly dipper. An elective course in Astronomy at Ole Miss, during the summer of 1966, helped me identify more constellations and gain a greater appreciation of the vastness of the universe. I can no longer remember my professor's name, but I can picture him in a striped, short-sleeved shirt with no tie. He made what could have been a dry subject an interesting one, and while his heavy southern drawl and nasal enunciation was something of a distraction, I learned a lot in his class. Being a "city boy," there were always neighborhood buddies around to help me explore the natural world. I've spent a lot of the early evening hours of my youth, with a friend or two, sitting on the front steps gazing at the stars. It was always a thrill to see a shooting star, or meteor. Such a sighting was rare, though rewarding. Once a friend and I saw what we believed was a flying saucer or UFO. We watched something streak across a vast section of the sky and suddenly make a right angle turn then streak out of sight. We'd both seen enough shooting stars to discount the possibility that what we had seen was a meteor, and it was far too speedy to be any sort of airplane. Whatever it was it surely got us excited that evening. Last month I caught a bit of news concerning the coming of a spectacular meteor shower that would peak around 4:00 a.m. on Sunday morning November 18th. There were predictions that the display might reveal as many as 4,000 shooting stars per hour, promising to be the best showing for years to come of what is an annual event. I have seen a few meteor showers over the years by staying up late, but I had not until recently gotten up in the middle of the night to see one. However, the prospect of seeing hundreds of shooting stars per hour awakened something of the "kid" in me. My wife shares my appreciation of such events, and told me if I'd awaken her she'd get up to watch the Leonid meteor shower with me. At 3:45 a.m., I turned off the alarm, bundled myself in warm clothing, then stepped onto the deck to check out the heavens. There seemed to be too many trees and street lights for a good view of the sky, so I walked toward the "circle" hoping for a better view. Trees were not much of a hindrance, but there are far too many lights in my neighborhood for stargazing. After spending about ten minutes searching for a prime viewing area, I sat down in a chair on the deck and concentrated on the sky almost straight overhead. In less than five minutes, I saw ten or more shooting stars. That was enough for me to go and arouse Barbara with the admonition, "If you want to see more shooting stars than you've seen in your whole life, you need to get up." She joined me on the deck in a matter of minutes. We watched the sky for perhaps another forty-five minutes before deciding we'd had enough of a good thing and crawled back into our bed. I don't know how many meteors I saw. Certainly it wasn't in the thousands, but I'd guess a hundred or so. They were coming fast enough that we could often see more than one at a time. One has to wonder what the ancients thought of meteor showers and how frightening it must have seemed to prehistoric man. Scientists believe the next spectacular shower produced by the Leonids won't happen for almost thirty more years. If I'm still around at that time, I'll be ancient.
Southwest Christmas By Pat Gaillard As I was reading the Southwest Travel Guide this weekend, I realized just how close we are to Christmas. There was an article about where to see the best displays of the lights from Albuquerque to Arizona. The custom is the paper-bag, sand in the bottom and a small candle is placed in the sand. There are thousands of these placed in rows along driveways, and rooftops. Spanish settlers likely introduced these festive lights to New Mexico's Rio Grande Valley in the 1600s. There were bonfires made of stacked of piñon wood, called (luminaires or lights), were lit on Christmas Eve to symbolically illuminate the way for the Christ child. My stepfather, Ed, told me that people used the light to find their way to Church on Christmas Eve. The paper bags didn't start until the 1930s. The tradition spread to Arizona and other adjoining states, and soon there were regional rifts over exactly what these lights should be called. In Santa Fe, Taos, and other northern New Mexican towns, locals call them farolitos, and in Albuquerque and throughout Arizona, they're called luminarias. Last year New Mexico's governor issued a proclamation declaring farolitos the correct term. So, on Christmas Eve we will be going to Old Town to the Church. There are too many people to have services in the small church, but we enjoy going. There will be bus tours in Albuquerque, Farmington, San Juan College, Masilla, and Santa Fe, New Mexico all enjoying the luminarias on Christmas Eve. Editor: Pat submitted the above in November of 2000. It was somehow misplaced and not recovered until well after Christmas.
Xmas Cards 2001 A Thanksgiving Tradition Christmas Cards from the Carter Family of Dogwood Circle were mailed the week of Thanksgiving. It is a chore assumed almost entirely by this writer. I made a huge effort to get all cards completed before Thanksgiving Day, but seventy-two were all that had made it to the Post Office by late Wednesday evening. The forty-five remaining cards were mailed the day after Thanksgiving. It seems no matter how early I purchase the cards I'm always in a rush to get them in the mail by Thanksgiving. However, because I am able to be off work during the week of Thanksgiving, it has become a tradition for me to set aside time to complete all that is involved in mailing Christmas Cards. This season my 11th hour work was handicapped by my resolve to include a personal note in every card. Without the aid of my computer, my effort would have been in vain. I've come to appreciate persons who take the time to personalize their Christmas Cards, and this year I wanted to give others a reason to feel appreciated. Each year, a few friends compliment the handwriting on the card and envelope, and each year I remind folks that a computer did most of the work for me. All the envelopes were addressed using the computer and each personal note was scribbled out using the computer. Only the signatures below the Hallmark greeting were actually penned and only then using a special fountain pen whose nib was created for calligraphy. If I don't rush myself, I can script out a decent signature. I would like to be able to write everything out in cursive or even calligraphy, but my hand shakes too terribly to allow that. Fortunately, back in the mid-nineties, I paid a company to create a personal font for my computer based on my actual handwriting, and I am now able to serve up a respectable script for special occasions such as party invitations or Christmas Cards.
Reader Response Heroes & Worship Maybe it's the season that's upon us that has elicited an outpouring of reader response to recent articles. Maybe it's just that we all need heroes in our lives. Whatever the reason, responses are appreciated. Rick Greene of Brandon shared the following: Read your article about "....Heroes". Very interesting story; I knew about Ira Hayes. Didn't know about the others though. I have, however, run across many a veteran that have "chose" not to talk about their experiences in war. In fact, when I was on recruiting duty back in the '80's, I was eating breakfast in a little cafe outside Yazoo City. I had just returned from making a "high school visit" and was in my full Dress Blue uniform. As odds would have it, there was a WWII veteran there, a former Marine and veteran of Tarawa (actually, Tarawa was the Marines' bloodiest battle when you take into account that it was only a 3-day battle). Anyway, I was naturally intrigued by the fact that he had survived what is notoriously the Corps' bloodiest assault and continuously asked him questions. Every time I asked him a question, he wouldn't answer but in turn would ask me questions about "today's Corps". I finally picked up on his reluctance, and said something to the effect that it was an honor to carry on the traditions/ history that he and his comrades had created for us. I can't remember what his exact response was, but I do remember his silence and his eyes tearing as he apparently remember some of those comrades (heroes) that had not survived. It was chilling. I met many, many veterans during my tenure as a recruiter. My station (of recruiters) even presented the colors at the Iwo Jima Association's annual gathering when it was held in Vicksburg, MS. I may be naive, but all those who served during what was sure to be a very scary time (it is easy to say we won the war, but I am sure that there was always some doubt when and while it was happening) is a hero to me! Bob Jackson of Gig Harbor Washington is sympathetic with my distaste for contemporary forms of worship rather than traditional. Bob shared the following: We have enjoyed your Ridge Rider News and find that it keeps us in touch with home. The story about your First Baptist Church and its contemporary services really hit home with us. Since we have moved to Gig Harbor, we can find almost nothing that we are accustomed to. We were members of a great church in Eden Prairie [MN] but cannot get situated here. Almost all of the music is contemporary and many of the women and some of the men swing their bodies to the rhythm. Most of the time, I get so upset that I can't even enjoy the sermon. We have tried many different churches and even got up and walked out of one Sunday and went to another just up the road. It was no better. We are still looking and have found a Baptist Church in Gig Harbor that we have not been too yet. I hope this one works out for us. If you had been in the church services that I have been in for the last few months you would have my heart trouble. Editor's Note: A subsequent email stated that the church mentioned in the last paragraph turned out to be a non-denominational church, instead of Baptist.
Bodock Beau Lawyers & Aging It seems I never tire of good lawyer jokes…er' that's good jokes about lawyers. However, my mind is tired, and I can't remember if I plucked this one off the Internet or if someone emailed it. The Truck Driver And The Priest A truck driver was heading down the highway when he saw a priest at the side of the road. Feeling it was his duty he stopped to give the priest a ride. A short time later, he saw a lawyer with a briefcase on the side of the road and aimed his truck at him. At the last second, he thought of the priest with him and realized he couldn't run over the lawyer, so he swerved, but he heard a thump anyway. Looking back as he drove on, he didn't see anything. He began to apologize for his behavior to the priest, "I'm sorry, Father. I barely missed that lawyer at the side of the road." But the priest said, "Don't worry, son. I got him with my door." Can't Wait To Be Old Do you realize that the only time in our lives when we'd like to get old is when we were kids? If you're less than ten years old, you're so excited about aging that you think in fractions. "How old are you?" "I'm four and a half." You're never thirty-six and a half…but you're four and a half going on five. You get into your teens; now they can't hold you back. You jump to the next number. "How old are you?" "I'm gonna be 16." You could be 12, but you're gonna be 16…eventually. Then the great day of your life, you become 21. Even the words sound like a ceremony. You BECOME 21…Yes! Then you turn 30. What happened there? Makes you sound like bad milk, "He TURNED…we had to throw him out." What's wrong? What changed? You BECOME 21. You TURNED 30. Then you're pushing 40…stay over there. You REACH 50. You BECOME 21; you TURNED 30; you're PUSHING 40; you've REACHED 50; Then you MAKE IT to 60. By then you've built up so much speed, you HIT 70. After that, it's a "day by day" thing. You HIT Wednesday… You get into your 80's; you HIT lunch…you HIT 4:30. My grandmother won't even buy green bananas. "Well, it's an investment, you know, and may be a bad one." And it doesn't end there… Into the 90's, you start going backwards, "I was JUST 92." Then a strange thing happens; if you make it to 100, you become a little kid again, "I'm one hundred and a half."
Contributed by Bing "building up speed" Crausby Copyright © 2000 - 2001 RRN Online.
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held a mild curiosity regarding the heavenly bodies that comprise
the night sky. Of course there've been innumerable earth-bound heavenly bodies
that provoked similar curiosity, but this article will not be concerned with
the latter. Anyone possessing slightly more than a mild interest in stargazing
would require a telescope, but such was a luxury I could ill afford when
the desire for one was its strongest. Therefore, I've spent most of my stargazing
hours in the unmagnified sense, using just plain old eyesight. [Photo courtesy
- Gary W. Kronk's Comets & Meteor Showers Web Site