A Christmas Gare-ol
Bah HUMSPITZ screeched Gares-a-Geezer Scrooge - it must be distinctly understood that this makes a good story, but is it true? No. Gares-a-geezer Scrooge ran the only Planetarium in OLDE LONDON TOWNE, but attendance had plummeted since Scrooge had installed a drive-through window for carriages to 'improve cash flow'. BaH HUM ZEISS I tell ye! Scrooge yelled at Bob Crunchit, Scrooge's hapless young apprentrice - no-one knew what a 'prentice' was exactly, though clearly Bob was one. I suppose you want ALL DAY off for Christmas! Bob desperately needed a day off from the Planetarium. Scrooge was such a miserly planetarium owner, he had cut back on stars, and Bob had eye strain
trying to point out to patrons the Three Sisters, and the No-Longer-Supersized Dipper. YOU BETCHA! Bob shouted as he ran out, narrowly dodging the rather imposing 10 foot spectre rising up out of Scrooges ancient OhNonos projector. Scrooooge! bellowed the ghost.... you've pawned Orions BELT haven't you!?... The miserly miser winced and tried to hit the dimmers, but they didn't work on the ghost of old Barley, Scrooge's long dead partner (he had been long dead, although he was also long, if you see what I mean). He doesn't have any PANTS, why's he need a BELT? countered the witty miser... but to his dismay Barley's unamused ghost (the worst kind) advanced undimmed, aiming a ghastly arrow pointer Scrooges way.... You will be visited by Three More Ghosts ... and all at once, since this website doesn't have much space. Repent my old partner! And stop overcharging in Ye Olde Gift Shop!!! With this final warning Barley vanished, to be replaced round the dome by three new spectres.
I AM THE GHOST of planetariums past! intoned the first, a dumbbell shaped apparation who lumbered forward as best he could towards Scrooge... Less Lasers, more Science!! the ghost demanded, tweaking the miser's nose as he vanished. I AM THE GHOST of planetariums present! squeaked the second, a round ball-like spirit who rolled up against Scrooge's trouser leg.. I am Globo-Whatever-Star-Stuffer, and you need less stars, more VIDEOS! Scrooge winced once more but was silently agreeing to cut even more constellations when the mysterious sphere vanished - now a third dread glimmer stood before him. I AM THE GHOST of planetariums future! I am nothingness, for in the future who needs planetariums.. project yer fake stars on Facebook and forget them! .. and he was gone.
But Scrooge suddenly saw the error in his ways.. he cancelled his lasers and movies, turned on ALL his stars again and repented, vowing to stay open for all Londoners to appreciate heaven's bounty. And Bob Crunchit returned to work the day after Christmas and resumed showing the public all Seven Sisters, Orion's belt, and even Leo Minor. And so, as his skinny son Tiny Slim was fond of saying.. may the stars bless us .. may the stars bless us
EVERYONE!
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Sometimes the Dream
Sometimes we have the Dream. And sometimes the Dream has Us
Photography is one of those dreams many people seem to have. I think like other passions, its good to examine from whence it comes .. what is the wellspring that is inside that drives it. Some dreams are accomplished, then we can rest. Maybe your portraits were like that - unfinished business that is now complete. I know playing live music and writing music was like that for me. Traveling places - climbing mountains .. we do it till its done, then we can be content. We see to make it a lively would mean to take wedding photos endlessly, or to play bars the rest of our lives. Or to give mountain climbing lessons. We have the dream. We come to terms with it eventually. If we do not, we have regrets, and no one should have regrets. I vow to not have regrets.
But it begins to seem to me there is another category entirely. We dont have a dream .. A dream has US ... and it wont let us go. Thats what writing, planetariums, and some of the music I did began to look like. Maybe your photography is like this. It wont be content .. the tail wont stop wagging on the dog. Im not sure it wants to be discovered or to make it big ... Im not sure what it wants .. but it keeps knocking on the door . beckoning .. The only way to figure out what IT wants, since the dream has US, is to figure out what drives it. Where it comes from. Why this wellspring never runs dry . Again though, to ignore it is the road to regret.
Seems like when we have the dream, we can either achieve it, or at least come to terms with it. But when the dream has us, we are in for a more uncertain, but certainly wilder ride. We don't know where it will take us, this dream.
But I wouldn't let go.
Photography is one of those dreams many people seem to have. I think like other passions, its good to examine from whence it comes .. what is the wellspring that is inside that drives it. Some dreams are accomplished, then we can rest. Maybe your portraits were like that - unfinished business that is now complete. I know playing live music and writing music was like that for me. Traveling places - climbing mountains .. we do it till its done, then we can be content. We see to make it a lively would mean to take wedding photos endlessly, or to play bars the rest of our lives. Or to give mountain climbing lessons. We have the dream. We come to terms with it eventually. If we do not, we have regrets, and no one should have regrets. I vow to not have regrets.
But it begins to seem to me there is another category entirely. We dont have a dream .. A dream has US ... and it wont let us go. Thats what writing, planetariums, and some of the music I did began to look like. Maybe your photography is like this. It wont be content .. the tail wont stop wagging on the dog. Im not sure it wants to be discovered or to make it big ... Im not sure what it wants .. but it keeps knocking on the door . beckoning .. The only way to figure out what IT wants, since the dream has US, is to figure out what drives it. Where it comes from. Why this wellspring never runs dry . Again though, to ignore it is the road to regret.
Seems like when we have the dream, we can either achieve it, or at least come to terms with it. But when the dream has us, we are in for a more uncertain, but certainly wilder ride. We don't know where it will take us, this dream.
But I wouldn't let go.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
For It Is a Feeble Light
I am taken back by the garish light of day, and i am called gare-ish ..
Routinely I run from sunlit fields into the dark of my humble planetarium chamber, and my eyes cannot relate.. I burned out another projector led bulb today .. I come from light into eternal night and i cannot see my stars.. so I goose my projector up and up and up till i burn out the bulb
for it is a feeble light. that light of the stars
the past week without sleep have i been, yet the stars were absent .. luna held sway, bathing my victorian house in fitful pale illumination thru my floor to ceiling wavy glass windows.
even then the feeble light of the stars was hindered.
and thus it is ever so in my own star theater .. i must camp there in the garish light of day for 30 minutes if I am not to burn out a bulb until i can see that feeble light
that feeble light of grandeur . how we take for granted the night vision
and little realize that our eyes mostly are attuned to the grandiose lights of broadway .. the strip in vegas ... walmart in gallatin
how little we realize how quickly we miss that feeble light that is eternity. g
Routinely I run from sunlit fields into the dark of my humble planetarium chamber, and my eyes cannot relate.. I burned out another projector led bulb today .. I come from light into eternal night and i cannot see my stars.. so I goose my projector up and up and up till i burn out the bulb
for it is a feeble light. that light of the stars
the past week without sleep have i been, yet the stars were absent .. luna held sway, bathing my victorian house in fitful pale illumination thru my floor to ceiling wavy glass windows.
even then the feeble light of the stars was hindered.
and thus it is ever so in my own star theater .. i must camp there in the garish light of day for 30 minutes if I am not to burn out a bulb until i can see that feeble light
that feeble light of grandeur . how we take for granted the night vision
and little realize that our eyes mostly are attuned to the grandiose lights of broadway .. the strip in vegas ... walmart in gallatin
how little we realize how quickly we miss that feeble light that is eternity. g
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Public outreach is so important to us all: afterall, todays' children are tomorrows architects of the future.
Public outreach is so important to us all: afterall, todays' children are tomorrows architects of the future.
Public outreach is so important to us all: afterall, todays' children are tomorrows architects of the future. by Owen Phairis aka Professor Fantastic
This is going to become the HPA Mantra going forward, with full quote credit to Prof. Fantastic. It hit home that the future is in giving, not hoarding, in a recent incident I have captured with the following true story from 2 weeks ago!
I was squirming in Church two Sundays ago. The topic was money .. giving .. and I knew I had issues. Who doesn't? Alot of people don't. But apparently far more do. Like me. The pastor, an eloquent imposing man over 6 foot 4 in height, had implored the congregation that by giving you received more than you could imagine. A special envelope was included in the program. Now I give a 25 dollar check each and every Sunday. I recently completed a 2 year pledge to help build several new campus childrens centers. That was expected. But this was beyond. I fidgeted... finally with a supreme shrug, not believing a word of it, I forced myself to remove my wallet, take out my last bill, a 10, and put it in the envelope. I just made the plate as it went round. I left church vaguely thinking maybe I should be more cynical.
Two days later Im working at my Sprint Store. Over 5 years I cannot but help size customers up - form judgements that are sometimes spot on, sometimes grossly mistaken or unfair. I do not let this affect my job performance, but its a human thing I tell myself. In hobbled a little old man - with an oxygen tank.. he slowly plodded towards me and I saw that I needed to help him. No hiding in the backroom, no putting him on the list and hoping someone else would get him. I had him. He literally had to gather breath before he could speak .. he needed another phone activated, his ancient cellphone wouldnt work anymore, almost like his body I couldnt help thinking .. as I put onto his line his equally ancient spare phone, he smiled at me .. a crooked smile. I told him about new phones, I couldnt be sure he heard me. But as he slowly began to leave, he held out an almost clawlike, limp hand to shake mine. I forced myself to shake it, and helped him to the door. And resumed trying to make money, my way..
After he had left I returned to my station, and before I could wait on the next customer, I noticed something crumpled up beside my keyboard. It was a ball of paper, or something.... Picking it up, I unwrapped it..
It was a 10 dollar bill.
Had the old man tipped me? Tips were unheard of in my line of work. No I came to realize .. the 10 I had given came back to me.. in a way not only proving the point, but in a way I would examine my preconceived notions about alot of others things too. And alot of other people.
I put the 10 back in the plate last Sunday. Without a single regret. g
Public outreach is so important to us all: afterall, todays' children are tomorrows architects of the future.
Public outreach is so important to us all: afterall, todays' children are tomorrows architects of the future. by Owen Phairis aka Professor Fantastic
This is going to become the HPA Mantra going forward, with full quote credit to Prof. Fantastic. It hit home that the future is in giving, not hoarding, in a recent incident I have captured with the following true story from 2 weeks ago!
I was squirming in Church two Sundays ago. The topic was money .. giving .. and I knew I had issues. Who doesn't? Alot of people don't. But apparently far more do. Like me. The pastor, an eloquent imposing man over 6 foot 4 in height, had implored the congregation that by giving you received more than you could imagine. A special envelope was included in the program. Now I give a 25 dollar check each and every Sunday. I recently completed a 2 year pledge to help build several new campus childrens centers. That was expected. But this was beyond. I fidgeted... finally with a supreme shrug, not believing a word of it, I forced myself to remove my wallet, take out my last bill, a 10, and put it in the envelope. I just made the plate as it went round. I left church vaguely thinking maybe I should be more cynical.
Two days later Im working at my Sprint Store. Over 5 years I cannot but help size customers up - form judgements that are sometimes spot on, sometimes grossly mistaken or unfair. I do not let this affect my job performance, but its a human thing I tell myself. In hobbled a little old man - with an oxygen tank.. he slowly plodded towards me and I saw that I needed to help him. No hiding in the backroom, no putting him on the list and hoping someone else would get him. I had him. He literally had to gather breath before he could speak .. he needed another phone activated, his ancient cellphone wouldnt work anymore, almost like his body I couldnt help thinking .. as I put onto his line his equally ancient spare phone, he smiled at me .. a crooked smile. I told him about new phones, I couldnt be sure he heard me. But as he slowly began to leave, he held out an almost clawlike, limp hand to shake mine. I forced myself to shake it, and helped him to the door. And resumed trying to make money, my way..
After he had left I returned to my station, and before I could wait on the next customer, I noticed something crumpled up beside my keyboard. It was a ball of paper, or something.... Picking it up, I unwrapped it..
It was a 10 dollar bill.
Had the old man tipped me? Tips were unheard of in my line of work. No I came to realize .. the 10 I had given came back to me.. in a way not only proving the point, but in a way I would examine my preconceived notions about alot of others things too. And alot of other people.
I put the 10 back in the plate last Sunday. Without a single regret. g
Thursday, October 15, 2009
the birth of Cakebox Productions
How did I get interested in Home Planetariums? With a cakebox ..
In 1967 on Holly Court in Villa Park, outside Chicago, I took a cakebox from the old Topps Department store up on North Avenue and punched star holes into it. Then I took a flashlight bulb on a board, hooked it up to 2 D cell batteries, and carried this contraption to my friend Alan's house.
In a darkened bedroom, Alan first said 'I see nothing'... After fiddling with the wires however, Alan then proclaimed ... I SEE STARS! I was hooked for life but this interest lay dormant until the 90s, when I purchased a Dick Emmons starglobe and HPA was born.
A recreation of that first cakebox may be seen on HPAs website www.planetariumsathome.com
In 1967 on Holly Court in Villa Park, outside Chicago, I took a cakebox from the old Topps Department store up on North Avenue and punched star holes into it. Then I took a flashlight bulb on a board, hooked it up to 2 D cell batteries, and carried this contraption to my friend Alan's house.
In a darkened bedroom, Alan first said 'I see nothing'... After fiddling with the wires however, Alan then proclaimed ... I SEE STARS! I was hooked for life but this interest lay dormant until the 90s, when I purchased a Dick Emmons starglobe and HPA was born.
A recreation of that first cakebox may be seen on HPAs website www.planetariumsathome.com
Traction
Traction
I keep thinking of certain famous bands I used to read about - before a long tour, they'd rehearse just like the real thing .. they'd play full sets, full energy, bring in people (like movie test screenings).. full lights .. effects... sleep in hotels (like NFL football teams do even at home before games) ...
Theyd be like a car revving at floored speed, but with the rear wheels lifted off the ground
So when the very first people came to see them for real .. it wouldnt be like they were starting out .. it would be like they were already in mid tour glory .. and people would assume this .. they would wonder .. wow.. where did all this come from.. it must have always been here!
When those rear wheels hit the pavement for whatever we do .. Im thinking it will be like that for us ... wow look at this planetarium museum .. look at this thing this guy has on his farm .. its been here for YEARS ..
before it finally got TRACTION .
I keep thinking of certain famous bands I used to read about - before a long tour, they'd rehearse just like the real thing .. they'd play full sets, full energy, bring in people (like movie test screenings).. full lights .. effects... sleep in hotels (like NFL football teams do even at home before games) ...
Theyd be like a car revving at floored speed, but with the rear wheels lifted off the ground
So when the very first people came to see them for real .. it wouldnt be like they were starting out .. it would be like they were already in mid tour glory .. and people would assume this .. they would wonder .. wow.. where did all this come from.. it must have always been here!
When those rear wheels hit the pavement for whatever we do .. Im thinking it will be like that for us ... wow look at this planetarium museum .. look at this thing this guy has on his farm .. its been here for YEARS ..
before it finally got TRACTION .
Friday, October 9, 2009
The Bygone Parade
The Bygone Brigade
Theaters and Popcorn Machines. Tessla Coils and Waffle Irons .. what do they have to do with Planetariums? Everything and nothing... they do far different things, or do they? Picture a fantasy parade .. all of humanity's creations perhaps marching down Pasadena Blvd .. the Rose Parade of Progress.. there are people in the crowd that appreciate the basics .. they applaud Alec ... Alec-tricity... they applaud Steam.. and King Coal .. and Iron and the older crowd (much older) digs Bronze .. the Romans are out in force for Marble.. why arent marbles made of marble, or were they? In our parade of the Progress. many in the crowd squeal approval for Henry Ford.. Thomas Edison .. Einstein .. Michelangelo . All inventions parade down the boulevard, but there are a few in the huddled masses that look for stranger marchers ... here they come! Dumb-bell shaped Star Machines! They roll on carriages, they lead a strange menagerie of zoolike machines that most people know but few .. appreciate ... Carmel Apple makers .. Sno Coners.. Cotton Candy Blowers .. and here come the carnival rides ... A Tilt a Whirl rolls by .. Ferris Wheels also careen down the boulevard .. and bringing up the rear a literal zoo of yard sale refugees... Wood burning kits .. Bedazzlers .. a Slide Rule Marching Band, followed closely by a band of all the instruments nobody plays .. Bass Flutes and Clarinets .. Saxophones and Sousaphones, neither of which make calls as phones normally do .. And so the parade passes .. the icons of progress .. the staples of every era of life .. and lastly the bygone brigade.. planetariums .. phone booths .. ringer washers .. hand cranked pencil sharpeners .. model trains of all gauges
At last the Icons and the Bygones have passed .. the crowd fills the streets behind it as it passes .. wondering what next will join the neverending march. And wondering what is now among us that we cant see .. we take for granted .. that tomorrow will suddenly turn charming, and join the Brigade.
Theaters and Popcorn Machines. Tessla Coils and Waffle Irons .. what do they have to do with Planetariums? Everything and nothing... they do far different things, or do they? Picture a fantasy parade .. all of humanity's creations perhaps marching down Pasadena Blvd .. the Rose Parade of Progress.. there are people in the crowd that appreciate the basics .. they applaud Alec ... Alec-tricity... they applaud Steam.. and King Coal .. and Iron and the older crowd (much older) digs Bronze .. the Romans are out in force for Marble.. why arent marbles made of marble, or were they? In our parade of the Progress. many in the crowd squeal approval for Henry Ford.. Thomas Edison .. Einstein .. Michelangelo . All inventions parade down the boulevard, but there are a few in the huddled masses that look for stranger marchers ... here they come! Dumb-bell shaped Star Machines! They roll on carriages, they lead a strange menagerie of zoolike machines that most people know but few .. appreciate ... Carmel Apple makers .. Sno Coners.. Cotton Candy Blowers .. and here come the carnival rides ... A Tilt a Whirl rolls by .. Ferris Wheels also careen down the boulevard .. and bringing up the rear a literal zoo of yard sale refugees... Wood burning kits .. Bedazzlers .. a Slide Rule Marching Band, followed closely by a band of all the instruments nobody plays .. Bass Flutes and Clarinets .. Saxophones and Sousaphones, neither of which make calls as phones normally do .. And so the parade passes .. the icons of progress .. the staples of every era of life .. and lastly the bygone brigade.. planetariums .. phone booths .. ringer washers .. hand cranked pencil sharpeners .. model trains of all gauges
At last the Icons and the Bygones have passed .. the crowd fills the streets behind it as it passes .. wondering what next will join the neverending march. And wondering what is now among us that we cant see .. we take for granted .. that tomorrow will suddenly turn charming, and join the Brigade.
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