Thursday, September 27, 2012

Alice Appreciation.

I was a very serious adolescent in the mid-fifties, hostile to authority and not known for laughing, but The Honeymooners could reduce me to tears, mostly because Jackie Gleason as "Ralph Kramden" was a gifted actor and a consummate buffoon, carrying his stupid schemes to absurd heights. Art Carney as "Ed Norton" struck me as way too silly for my tastes--no character in real life could be that stupid and goofy, I thought. I didn't learn to appreciate "Norton" until many years later, when I started expecting a laugh as soon as he walked in a room.
Then, there was Audrey Meadows, better known as "Alice." She was my hero--my heroine--ranking higher than "Matt Dillon" on Gunsmoke or John Wayne at the movies.
Look at her--she was an island of intelligence in a sea of idiots:






And, she was not afraid. "Ralph" could stomp and shout and threaten her, but when the moment came, she would stick a pin in this blowhard and , reduce him to a deflated sack of jelly, to my infinite delight.
I took the characters seriously at the time, even though I laughed at the stupidity. When "Ralph" finally hugged "Alice" at the end of many episodes and blubbered, "Baby, you're the greatest," I thought, "Naw, he's too stupid to appreciate her."
It was me. I'm the one who appreciated her.
She was beautiful, Audrey Meadows.


Monday, September 17, 2012

Where Am I? The Ultimate Journey.

I love maps, all kinds of maps. Whenever I travel by car, I must have a road map because I always want to know where I am, relative to where I came from and where I'm going. Also, I want to know where on this map I get to eat.
Here's a map of the visible universe:

The Observable Universe

That little speck in the center, the Virgo Supercluster,  is where we are, and the universe looks like a sphere because we're in the middle of it and we can see only about 14.2 billion light years (ly) in any direction. No doubt, there's a lot more stuff out past the sphere, but we can't see it--it's black--which is just an indication of our nearsightedness. Maybe the light out there, traveling at 186 million miles per second, hasn't had enough time to reach us, and, besides, we're probably not in the middle of the universe at all.
Now, I'm not traveling far away, but I still want to know where I stand. The Virgo Supercluster is chock full of smaller clusters which are each chock full of galaxies--yes, whole galaxies, each full of stars and planets.
I don't know where they got the name "Virgo," but it's Latin for "virgin" and has nothing to do with the constellation Virgo, except that the stars which form Virgo are also inside the Virgo Supercluster, right here with us, and we can see them with the naked eye.


The constellation is supposed to be a virgin wearing a skirt, but even if you connect the dots, it may be difficult to locate in the night sky because it's no more than a stick figure, obscured by smaller stars all around, although this is nothing new. Virgins are always hard to spot, unless they're under the age of 16.
So, just for the fun of it, let's zoom in on the map--to the Virgo Supercluster:

The Local Supercluster.

Only the biggest clusters in the Virgo Supercluster get their own names instead of numbers, but, of course, being us, we gave ourselves a name, a name not very colorful or exciting. We're called the Local Group, which sounds like a bunch of loiterers on the porch outside a general store, tilting back on chairs, smoking tobacco, shooting the shit, and passing judgement on random strollers, all for good fun. Of course, the map places us dead center, and, if we zoom in on the Local Group, we get this map:

The Local Group

Naturally, our galaxy is in the center of the map. It's Home! The Milky Way! And, here's a pic of the Andromeda Galaxy, our neighbor, the most spectacular galaxy in the Local Group:

Digitized Sky Survey image

Finally--home sweet home--here's a rendering of our galaxy. The Milky Way!

The Milky Way

The Milky Way is a spiral galaxy, forming a relatively flat disc full of stars, planets, etc., all spiraling toward the center. Our Sun is located in the Orion arm of the spiral, pretty far out from the center. Here's a telescopic picture of the center of the Milky Way galaxy taken from the Orion arm (that would be HERE, that would be US):



And another pic, supersensitive to light in the night sky:

Royal Observatory awards: ASTRONOMY PHOTOGRAPHER OF THE YEAR ATTHE ROYAL OBSERVATORY GREENWICH

Is it awesome, or what? You can't see all the distant light with the naked eye, but, when you see that milky band across the night sky--billions of stars too far away to form the dots of light we call stars--you're looking at the dim light from all the stars in all the arms of our galaxy, seen from the the Orion arm of the Milky Way. You're actually looking along the flat plane of our disc-shaped galaxy, but the stars are too far away to look like specks--they just look like a milky trail across the sky (get it? "Milky Way").

The Sun and Earth are pretty far out from the center of the galaxy, thank God, because, at the center of the Milky Way sits an ominous black hole, a ball of matter so dense that it's super-gravity sucks all the nearby stars into itself, sucking so hard that even light can not escape. We can't see the black hole because it won't let light out, plus, it's surrounded by billions of little stars getting sucked into dark doom, making it look like a crowd of fireflies congregating around a bowl of honey.

But, don't worry, the super gravity won't get to us within the next few million years. You've got plenty of time to write your wills. Even your great-great grandchildren will live goofily along, mostly unaware of the colossal suction that is bound to turn our world into a compacted black speck, like a grain of sand in a dark desert, settled on the surface of a massive black ball.
Much, much later--in the end--when the whole galaxy is finally sucked into the black hole, the damned thing may even explode and start a whole new generation of stars, planets and a race or two of curious goof-offs like us.
But, I digress. Let's get back to maps.



Out here in the Orion arm of the Milky Way, we find--among billions--our favorite star, the Sun. We're so close to it that it warms us, makes our veggies grow, and gives us a great tan if we stretch out on a beach. It doesn't look much like a star to us, but it is one.
The planets rotating around the Sun are not often aligned as in this map, but it's a nice image to help us get our bearings--that's why I love maps, to get my bearings, to see where I stand, to get oriented. We're the third planet from the Sun, inside the asteroid belt and the orbits of a bunch of other planets.
Here's an actual photograph of our planet, Earth, taken by an astronaut on a mission to the Moon. It's the prettiest planet in our solar system, with the possible exception of Saturn.:

A planetary disk of white cloud formations, brown and green land masses, and dark blue oceans against a black background. The Arabian peninsula, Africa and Madagascar lie in the upper half of the disk, while Antarctica is at the bottom.

Now, we're getting somewhere. At the bottom of the photo, you can see the ice that covers Antarctica, and behind the white clouds in the upper left (northwest quadrant) you can see the continent of Africa, with Saudi Arabia just across the Red Sea. The Mediterranean Sea is just barely visible at the top left of the globe.
So, if you get on a sailboat in Africa and cross that blue ocean to the left (the Atlantic), tacking a little north around to the back of the globe, you would run smack into North America:


Thus to another map of North America:



And a highlight of my home, New Hampshire:

Map of the United States with New Hampshire highlighted

Wherein lies my hometown, Manchester, near the bottom of the state:
map of New Hampshire cities

Which--on maps--shows roads and streets like this:



Thus, I can find my way to the huge Mall of New Hampshire, just off the intersection of Interstate 293 and South Willow St. (highlighted in purple).



Now, all I have to do is consult the map of the mall to get what I'm looking for:


Aha, I see a "You Are Here" arrow on the map. All I have to do is go straight, take a right, then a second right, then a left, and I'm there!


I order a supreme pizza with everything on it, and when I lift the lid to take a look--Wow! It looks remarkably like a map of the Universe. I swear the little speck of green pepper in the center resembles the Virgo Supercluster.
 


I feel like I'm Home. And I can eat the map!
I do love maps, especially when they're pizza..

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Madison Rising.

If you love Washington and Jefferson, Hamilton, Adams and Patrick Henry, not to mention Madison--i.e. America--plus great rock music, you should take a listen to this:


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c8C7i9kdEf8

Sunday, September 9, 2012

Native Calendar.

If we named the months of the calendar after Native moons instead of Roman emperors, it would read as follows:

Wolf
Snow
Crow
Pink
Flower
Strawberry
Thunder
Red
Harvest
Beaver
and Cold.

Saturday, September 8, 2012

What's Your Moon?

I was born in the time of the Flower Moon--many moons ago.

Last month (August 2012) we looked up at a "Blue Moon," now defined as a second Full Moon in a single month. One month is supposedly based on one cycle of a Full Moon--one Full Moon equals one month--but the measure is so rough that we get that extra Full Moon, the Blue Moon, every three years.



Ancient Europeans and--especially--Native Americans in Northern America typically came up with names for all the Full Moons of the year, names which most often matched. So, if you want to know your Birthday Moon, check the list. It's no doubt more meaningful than your astrological sign, because this would be the month when you first experienced the world and its weather, hot or cold, in diapers or snowsuit.

BIRTH MONTHS:

January: Wolf Moon--Named because people listened to far off hungry wolves howling against their winter fast.

February: Snow Moon--also known as the Hunger Moon because of the difficulty of hunting in winter snows.

March: Crow Moon--when thawing snows revealed worms for the loud crows to eat. Also known as the Snow Crust Moon, because the snow surfaces thawed during the day and refroze at night to form a crust. Also known as the Worm Moon and the Sap Moon, when sap started running in the trees--yum, maple syrup.

April: Pink Moon--when the earliest colorful flowers appeared. Also known as the Grass Moon, and the Fish Moon, when fish spawned in the rivers.

May: Flower Moon--when flowers became abundant. Also known as the Milk Moon (?).

June: Strawberry Moon--when the short-seasoned strawberries (and raspberries) ripened, no doubt a special treat to all concerned. Also known as the Rose Moon.

July: Thunder Moon---named after frequent storms. Also known as the Buck Moon, for when deer sprouted antlers and hunters could provide good food. Also, the Hay Moon.

August: Red Moon--named for the haze at moonrise in the Great Lakes region, which reddened the moon, aka, Sturgeon Moon and Grain Moon..

September: Hunter's Moon--because when snow fell early, the still active wildlife could be spotted easily against the white background. Also known as the Corn Moon.

WE ARE HUNTER-GATHERERS, AND THIS IS THE TIME OF YEAR WHEN THE HUNTERS OF OUR SPECIES START DEPENDING ON THE GATHERERS

October: Harvest Moon--marking a season of abundance in the fields. Crops are ripe and ready to eat, corn and grains are preserved and everyone celebrates--just like pumpkin pie. Also known as the Frosty Moon--and the Blood Moon, for the frantic last chance to find game on the hunting grounds.

November: Beaver Moon--no doubt a Northeast Native American moniker, because it was the best time to trap and wear beaver furs, as beavers ran around all month chewing trees in preparation for winter.

December: Cold Moon--yu'think? Also known as the Long Night Moon because darkness in December is very long each day.

We're in September, so, if you're looking for Spring, for the time of the Pink Moon--

YOU MUST WAIT SIX MOONS.