With all the coverage of January's earthquake tragedy in Haiti, I guess I'm sensitive to such news; so I took note of Friday's earthquake in Japan. Kind of a big one, but Japan has quakes fairly often and they are more prepared to deal with them.
Today's news of the massive earthquake in Chile - some say the fifth most powerful in recorded history - did get my attention. My guess is that the death toll will be much lower than in Haiti due to the better construction, even though it was a more powerful quake. That said, what a calamity. The destruction must be enormous, and we'll get a better idea of that as the days roll on.
And just try to imagine the colossal amount of energy released, to send waves across the world's largest ocean - one fourth of the Earth's surface! - to a height of six feet in Hawaii. Such things are measured, but I can't grasp it.
Earlier today I was reminded of a Bible verse...Jesus had just told his disciples that a time would come when the temple would be thrown down; not one stone would be left upon another. Three of the disciples asked,
"Tell us, when will these things happen? And what will be the sign that they are all about to be fulfilled" (Mark 13:4, NIV)
Jesus replies, speaking of false Christs, and wars and rumor of wars, then
"Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be earthquakes in various places, and famines. These are the beginning of birth pains." - Mark 13:8 (NIV)
A familiar verse, and I remember hearing it mentioned often in the 1970's, when Hal Lindsay's book "The Late Great Planet Earth" came out, and Biblical prophecies of the "end times" were discussed. This seemed quite a new thing to us young Christians. Nothing wrong with studying scripture, but looking back now it seems we were so focused on the end of the world that that study took on a life of it's own.
No one in my circle of friends was totally convinced - we didn't sell out and head for the hills to await the end - but most of us thought there was something to this talk. I recall one conversation when the question came up, would we make it out of the seventies? Good question...boy, I don't know.
But you can't worry about such things, and after all,
"No one knows about that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Be on guard! Be alert! You do not know when that time will come." (Mark 13:32-33, NIV)
So the decades continued to roll, 1980 came, then 1990, 2000, and now 2010. Our lives continue, and even among those of the faithful, we've taken on a lot of cares. Speaking for myself, I now have the attitude of yes, Jesus spoke of the end times among many other things, but until He returns I have to walk in faith every day. I'm just not as focused on those exciting passages now, as I was in my college days.
That said, Jesus did tell his followers to be alert for such signs. And I do remember someone back then interpreted the "birth pains" in verse 8 meaning that earthquakes would occur closer together and be stronger.
I don't really expect another major earthquake in another place tomorrow (I'm not talking about aftershocks in Chile here). But just in case one does occur somewhere else, that will grab my attention.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
It beats sparklers and snakes
Given this blog's interest in all things fireworks and NASA, I offer another excerpt from "The Great Bridge" by David McCullough. It's very long by blog standards, but I think it would suffer from being broken up into parts. The excerpt is a detailed description of the fireworks display which concluded the day-long celebration of the opening of the Brooklyn Bridge in 1883.
Grab something to drink and enjoy!
Suddenly a solitary rocket shot into the sky over Columbia Heights and burst into a spray of blue stars. It had come from the mayor’s house, where the dinner for the President had been going on.
Almost instantly the lights on the bridge went out. For a moment not a thing could be seen of it. Then there was a long, distant hissing sound, a sudden roar, and fifty rockets exploded simultaneously high over the main span of the bridge, while at least twenty bombs burst higher still, from above the towers, and poured down great showers of gold and silver. “From an elevated point the city seemed to be in volcanic action, with the spouting crater on the suspension bridge.”
At its final meeting . . . , as its last official act, the Executive Committee of the Bridge Company had contracted with the New York firm of Detwiller & Street, Pyrotechnists, to put on a display of fireworks “worthy of the place and the occasion.” In all, fourteen tons of fireworks – more than ten thousand pieces – were set off from the bridge.
It lasted a solid hour. There was not a moment’s letup. One meteoric burst followed another. Rockets went off hundreds at a time and were seen from as far away as Montclair, New Jersey. Bombs exploded incessantly above the towers, bathing the bridge in red. In the strange light, firemen on the bridge could be seen in strong silhouette and the water from their hoses looked like molten silver. Meantime, innumerable gas balloons were being sent aloft. They were fifty feet in circumference and loaded with fireworks and as they swung into the sky, one by one, they scattered balls of colored fire over the river.
At each burst of a rocket a huge roar went up from the shores. Hundreds of thousands of people were watching – probably the biggest crowd ever gathered in New York until that time – and nobody, in all his days, had ever seen anything like this.
Nearly every boat on the water was making some sort of noise or display. Rockets and fireworks were shooting up from the middle of the river and down the bay. On one big excursion steamer, ablaze with lights, a calliope was shrieking out “America.” Bands were playing on board other boats.
Rockets were going up all over New York meantime – and in Brooklyn. From the middle of the bridge now came great thunderclap reports as zinc balls, fired from mortars, burst five hundred feet up, fairly illuminating the two cities, like sustained lightning.
And finally, at nine, as the display on the bridge ended with one incredible barrage – five hundred rockets fired all at once – every whistle and horn on the river joined in. The rockets “broke into millions of stars and a shower of golden rain which descended upon the bridge and the river.” Bells were rung, gongs were beaten, men and women yelled themselves hoarse, musicians blew themselves red in the face. And then when it was all over and nearly quiet again and the boats on the river were beginning to untangle themselves, there was one last memorable touch that not even Detwiller & Street, Pyrotechnists, could have arranged. “Hardly had the last falling spark died out,” wrote an editor who had been watching from the top of the (New York) Tribune Building, “when the moon rose slowly over the further tower and sent a broad beam like a benediction across the river.”
Amen.
The chapter detailing the celebration concluded with this anecdote:
In another time and in what would seem another world, on a day when two young men were walking on the moon, a very old woman on Long Island would tell reporters that the public excitement over the feat was not so much compared to what she had seen “on the day they opened the Brooklyn Bridge.”
Grab something to drink and enjoy!
Suddenly a solitary rocket shot into the sky over Columbia Heights and burst into a spray of blue stars. It had come from the mayor’s house, where the dinner for the President had been going on.
Almost instantly the lights on the bridge went out. For a moment not a thing could be seen of it. Then there was a long, distant hissing sound, a sudden roar, and fifty rockets exploded simultaneously high over the main span of the bridge, while at least twenty bombs burst higher still, from above the towers, and poured down great showers of gold and silver. “From an elevated point the city seemed to be in volcanic action, with the spouting crater on the suspension bridge.”
At its final meeting . . . , as its last official act, the Executive Committee of the Bridge Company had contracted with the New York firm of Detwiller & Street, Pyrotechnists, to put on a display of fireworks “worthy of the place and the occasion.” In all, fourteen tons of fireworks – more than ten thousand pieces – were set off from the bridge.
It lasted a solid hour. There was not a moment’s letup. One meteoric burst followed another. Rockets went off hundreds at a time and were seen from as far away as Montclair, New Jersey. Bombs exploded incessantly above the towers, bathing the bridge in red. In the strange light, firemen on the bridge could be seen in strong silhouette and the water from their hoses looked like molten silver. Meantime, innumerable gas balloons were being sent aloft. They were fifty feet in circumference and loaded with fireworks and as they swung into the sky, one by one, they scattered balls of colored fire over the river.
At each burst of a rocket a huge roar went up from the shores. Hundreds of thousands of people were watching – probably the biggest crowd ever gathered in New York until that time – and nobody, in all his days, had ever seen anything like this.
Nearly every boat on the water was making some sort of noise or display. Rockets and fireworks were shooting up from the middle of the river and down the bay. On one big excursion steamer, ablaze with lights, a calliope was shrieking out “America.” Bands were playing on board other boats.
Rockets were going up all over New York meantime – and in Brooklyn. From the middle of the bridge now came great thunderclap reports as zinc balls, fired from mortars, burst five hundred feet up, fairly illuminating the two cities, like sustained lightning.
And finally, at nine, as the display on the bridge ended with one incredible barrage – five hundred rockets fired all at once – every whistle and horn on the river joined in. The rockets “broke into millions of stars and a shower of golden rain which descended upon the bridge and the river.” Bells were rung, gongs were beaten, men and women yelled themselves hoarse, musicians blew themselves red in the face. And then when it was all over and nearly quiet again and the boats on the river were beginning to untangle themselves, there was one last memorable touch that not even Detwiller & Street, Pyrotechnists, could have arranged. “Hardly had the last falling spark died out,” wrote an editor who had been watching from the top of the (New York) Tribune Building, “when the moon rose slowly over the further tower and sent a broad beam like a benediction across the river.”
Amen.
The chapter detailing the celebration concluded with this anecdote:
In another time and in what would seem another world, on a day when two young men were walking on the moon, a very old woman on Long Island would tell reporters that the public excitement over the feat was not so much compared to what she had seen “on the day they opened the Brooklyn Bridge.”
Mind Control
I am more than a little concerned that the things I think of come about as the result of the efforts of two mildly distracted clerks.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Kiss me, I'm unpleasant
Bob and I share some ancestry. I have it on good authority that it comes with the cousin gig. He is much more informed on it than I am, so I'm taking a bit of a risk here. I believe we have some Irish ancestors which makes the following story of interest.
If we don't, it's still an amusing story.
At the time of the completion of the Brooklyn Bridge in 1883 large and festive celebrations were planned. (They had fireworks!) The citizens of New York City and Brooklyn were thrilled that the 14-year-long project had been completed and that they would no longer have to rely on ferry service to cross the East River. And, of course, many politicians got into the act - the two mayors, Governor Grover Cleveland, the next president of the U.S., and the sitting president, Chester Arthur, also a New Yorker.
But not all was sweetness and light.
Indeed the only people who seemed displeased with the arrangements being made were some of the more militant Irish, who in mid-April had suddenly realized that the 24th (of May) happened also to be Queen Victoria's birthday and so began angrily protesting the date selected. The Central Labor Union issued a statement calling on "all good men and women in both cities to remember this latest insult of the would-be aristocratic element in our midst." The (New York) Tribune answered that "it would be difficult, perhaps impossible, to fix upon a day that did not commemorate something or other unpleasant for Ireland," and as the appointed day drew nearer there was talk of Irish fanatics, "Dynamite Patriots," attempting to blow up the bridge.
Happily, the Brooklyn Bridge stands yet today, a perfectly gorgeous edifice in my opinion.
The story above came from The Great Bridge by David McCullough, a book that I am thoroughly enjoying. McCullough, you may remember, is the author of several historical narratives including Truman and John Adams.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Lyrics Game answers
We have a winner! Song #2 was indeed "Big Bad John" by Jimmy Dean. That song just came to mind one day after lying dormant for many years, and I have no idea why. I often wonder why stuff just pops into mind at random. I can imagine a couple of clerks in adjoining cubicles in "Mind Control". One is tasked to data entry, the other keeps the archives...
"Quick, he's drifting again!"
"What?"
"Anything, give me the first thing you can get your hands on. We've got to get him thinking about something!"
(A file cabinet drawer creaks open, and a paper is tossed over the cubicle wall.)
"Man, that's weird. What is this?"
"A really old song lyric. Well, you said anything."
"Okay I'll key it in...but he won't have a clue why."
"Hey, at least he won't just be on automatic..."
Where was I...Oh. The other two songs. Number one was "Bang On the Drum All Day" by Todd Rundgren. And the third song was "Pretzel Logic" by Steely Dan.
"I stepped up on the platform,
The man gave me the news,
He said, you must be joking son,
where did you get those shoes?"
"Well I've seen 'em on the TV, the movie show,
They say the times are changing but I just don't know,
These things are gone forever,
Over a long time ago, oh yeah."
Apparently Steely Dan's Donald Fagen claims the lyrics are about time travel.
Okay Mike, the lyrics game ball is in your court!
"Quick, he's drifting again!"
"What?"
"Anything, give me the first thing you can get your hands on. We've got to get him thinking about something!"
(A file cabinet drawer creaks open, and a paper is tossed over the cubicle wall.)
"Man, that's weird. What is this?"
"A really old song lyric. Well, you said anything."
"Okay I'll key it in...but he won't have a clue why."
"Hey, at least he won't just be on automatic..."
Where was I...Oh. The other two songs. Number one was "Bang On the Drum All Day" by Todd Rundgren. And the third song was "Pretzel Logic" by Steely Dan.
"I stepped up on the platform,
The man gave me the news,
He said, you must be joking son,
where did you get those shoes?"
"Well I've seen 'em on the TV, the movie show,
They say the times are changing but I just don't know,
These things are gone forever,
Over a long time ago, oh yeah."
Apparently Steely Dan's Donald Fagen claims the lyrics are about time travel.
Okay Mike, the lyrics game ball is in your court!
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
There's a light up above
We have a protracted version of the 'Lyrics Game' in progress right now. I have no idea when the original post went up. I guess I could look it up.
Hold on.
Okay, it was the eve of Christmas Eve. We're pushin' six weeks, I think. We probably need some resolution.
I have high confidence that song number 2 is 'Big Bad John' after Bob's hints from the other day. The others remain a mystery. But, I am promised, that I may recognize one of them when it's revealed.
This is so exciting.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Lyrics Game hints
Back on January 8, cousin Mike commented on my last go at the Song Lyrics Game.
“I have no idea on the songs at all. But I will say that #2 sounds familiar and I have the feeling that when you reveal it - I will know the song.”
A few hints:
I thought #2 would be the most familiar to you, it’s from 1961. I might have described it as a pop ballad; Wikipedia lists it as a country crossover song. So, not obviously country, but not a pure rock and roll oldie either.
#1 and #3 can both be described as classic rock.
#1 is from 1983, and you’d likely recognize it, especially if you heard the refrain. Big hint: it’s gotten a lot of radio time on Fridays to usher in the weekend.
#3 is from 1974, and it’s the title track from the album (it’s not only my favorite song from the album, but I think one of that band’s best efforts – clever lyrics throughout). It’s definitely a blues-based rock song, and if I had a time machine to take you back to the mid 1970’s you might remember having heard it “recently”. Sadly, it hasn’t gotten much airplay for some years now.
Mike, I could move this quiz over to Facebook and prolong the suspense…or just reveal the answer in a few days. It’s your call.
“I have no idea on the songs at all. But I will say that #2 sounds familiar and I have the feeling that when you reveal it - I will know the song.”
A few hints:
I thought #2 would be the most familiar to you, it’s from 1961. I might have described it as a pop ballad; Wikipedia lists it as a country crossover song. So, not obviously country, but not a pure rock and roll oldie either.
#1 and #3 can both be described as classic rock.
#1 is from 1983, and you’d likely recognize it, especially if you heard the refrain. Big hint: it’s gotten a lot of radio time on Fridays to usher in the weekend.
#3 is from 1974, and it’s the title track from the album (it’s not only my favorite song from the album, but I think one of that band’s best efforts – clever lyrics throughout). It’s definitely a blues-based rock song, and if I had a time machine to take you back to the mid 1970’s you might remember having heard it “recently”. Sadly, it hasn’t gotten much airplay for some years now.
Mike, I could move this quiz over to Facebook and prolong the suspense…or just reveal the answer in a few days. It’s your call.
Friday, February 5, 2010
The Airline History Museum
I suspect a lot of people don't realize how many great museums there are in the Kansas City metro area. The Nelson Gallery - Atkins Museum of Art is first class. The Steamboat Arabia Museum is a unique experience. The Truman Library and Museum in Independence is among the most well known presidential museums. We also have the Kansas City Museum and Science City at the Union Station. Another place I've heard about but not yet seen, is the Toy and Miniature Museum.
One place I've been meaning to see for years now is the Airline History Museum at the Wheeler Downtown Airport; it opened years ago as "Save A Connie". I should have gone long ago, as my dad was a TWA pilot for 27 years and flew the DC-3 and the L1049G Super-Constellation. Between Christmas and New Year's while my daughter and son-in-law were in from California, we drove there one afternoon to see what was on display.
What a treat. I took several photos, here are a few of the better ones to give you an idea.
A couple of displays in the small room before you enter the hangar.
Martin 404 cockpit
DC-3
I made a note of the license number of this DC-3, and when I returned home I got out my dad's pilot log books. I'm happy to report that he flew this plane.
The Lockheed 1049G Super-Constellation.
While my dad did pilot the Connies, this particular plane wasn't based in Kansas City at that time. I'm not even sure that it was ever owned by TWA, though it's been nicely restored with the TWA logo.
Inside...
The cockpit of the Connie
The first plane I ever flew on was the Super-Connie. While I do appreciate the speed of jet travel, the Connie is still a sentimental favorite of mine. I look forward to seeing and hearing this one fly again, perhaps this summer.
For those of you who have interest in airplanes or airline history, this museum is a must. Well worth your time.
One place I've been meaning to see for years now is the Airline History Museum at the Wheeler Downtown Airport; it opened years ago as "Save A Connie". I should have gone long ago, as my dad was a TWA pilot for 27 years and flew the DC-3 and the L1049G Super-Constellation. Between Christmas and New Year's while my daughter and son-in-law were in from California, we drove there one afternoon to see what was on display.
What a treat. I took several photos, here are a few of the better ones to give you an idea.
A couple of displays in the small room before you enter the hangar.
Martin 404 cockpit
DC-3
I made a note of the license number of this DC-3, and when I returned home I got out my dad's pilot log books. I'm happy to report that he flew this plane.
The Lockheed 1049G Super-Constellation.
While my dad did pilot the Connies, this particular plane wasn't based in Kansas City at that time. I'm not even sure that it was ever owned by TWA, though it's been nicely restored with the TWA logo.
Inside...
The cockpit of the Connie
The first plane I ever flew on was the Super-Connie. While I do appreciate the speed of jet travel, the Connie is still a sentimental favorite of mine. I look forward to seeing and hearing this one fly again, perhaps this summer.
For those of you who have interest in airplanes or airline history, this museum is a must. Well worth your time.
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