One Man & His Telescope

Hazard Perception (a must read for all ISS drivers)

Fri, 08 Aug 2008 16:37:57 -0400

So it’s been a bit quiet on the whole telescope thing. Night after night of unadulterated cloud cover, punctuated by two of the darkest clearest nights I have ever witnessed from the Midlands. If only I had completed my MkII Teleportation device I would have beamed myself to the top of the highest hill, in the darkest county, but even from our position in the centre of the country, where normally the doctors carry out complicated surgery just using light pollution, we could clearly discern the Milky way, and a hundred other stars usually invisible.

(Please do not ask about the MKI Teleporter. Although initially encouraging results were obtained, the accident involving the old lady and her pussycat, when they got accidentally merged (she thought she was entering a phone box) still hasn’t been forgotten round here. After all, six-legged furry geriatrics with pointy ears prowling the streets are still a rarity. I still think that if we could have found a large enough litter box then we could have let her live in the neighbourhood, but you KNOW what councils are like, SO MUCH red tape……ah well, you live and learn eh?)

Anyroad, it has been so quiet I have decided to learn to drive a lorry. It has been over 20 years since I first passed my driving test, and I have found the whole HGV experience a little bit like going back to school, (only without the spankings over Matron’s knee, which is a pity). Part of the newer type of test now include a module called “Hazard Perception”, which entails watching clips of driving, filmed from a driver’s point of view, and clicking your mouse when you see a potential hazard. So if you see a child on a bike starting to veer into the road, you click, if you see a car reversing into the flow of traffic, you click. Basically, anything you consider to be dangerous, when you see it coming, you click.

I have since found out that clicking just because you see a female driver in an oncoming car doesn’t gain you any points. I can’t think why.

At any rate, all this hazard perceiving has made all of us more aware of our surroundings, even No.1 Wife. (I should point out that No.1 Wife does not posses a driving licence, in fact the only thing she has ever driven, is me, mad.) So there we were, relaxing at the end of a hard day shopping, bubbling away in the hot-tub, when we suddenly started to observe loads and loads of satellites, whizzing around the edge of space at thousands of miles an hour. Some were flashing, some were blinking, some just shining, others flaring, loads and loads of them. And finally, the Grand-Daddy of all of them, the International Space Station. Shining at Magnitude -2.6, it makes an awesome sight, seventeen thousand miles an hour. You see it for a couple of minutes and then it is gone.

Now, I am no Einstein. I dont even have a German sounding name, and I certainly don’t have wild sticking up hair. Or indeed, ANY hair. But even so, I like to think that what little knowledge I do manage to retain despite the ravages of old age and red wine, I am able to pass on to the benefit of others and the future generations. For instance, several times as a family and with guests we have watched that “We Are Very Small” clip on youtube, which graphically illustrates the scale and size of objects in our Universe. I have taken the time to describe the photographs I have taken, especially how long the light from the distant stars and galaxies has taken to reach us here on earth. I pride myself that my five year old can pick out two constellations by name, and that my ten year old can pinpoint galaxies and nebulae. I also took pleasure from the fact that No.1 Wife, who in reality is only interested in two things, Dirty Dancing and handbags. (When I say Dirty Dancing, I mean that crap film from the eighties about an aged holiday resort worker on the minimum wage trying to get his leg-over with a gormless teenage guest. I found out that All Female Bikini Mud-Wrestling competitions DO NOT count as “Dirty Dancing”, no matter what music is being played….Even when I offered to join in to play the Patrick Swayze part, all I got was a slap and two weeks sleeping in the spare bed.)

But you get the picture, to finally bring some level of understanding and comprehension of the impossible vastness of space to the Mrs. was, I felt, quite an acheivement. You would be proud, right?

So there we were, watching the myriads of satellites, all exquisitely timed and placed to avoid each other’s paths. Interspersed with the satellites were several meteors, no doubt early splatterings from the Perseid meteor shower due to hit us next week. (Expect heavy cloud all week). In passing, I mentioned that it was lucky that the International Space Station wasn’t hit too often by space dust from meteors and the like.

I could see that No.1 wife was deep in thought…… “Yes” she agreed, and then, from her new-found knowledge of all things astronomical, she offered the following gem;

“It’s a good job they don’t crash it into the stars………”

Somebody shoot me.

The stars light up the nights...

Fri, 11 Jul 2008 15:17:00 -0400

….but funny people light up the days. Somebody very funny is leaving for a new life in France/Canada/Australia/Morocco, and even though she promises herself “no more crazy tricks”, I hope the crazy tricks continue for many years yet!! Best wishes for your new life, wherever you end up!

...continued

Thu, 10 Jul 2008 17:43:21 -0400

…well where were we? Oh yes, “OK” magazine. Now that I have learnt a new relaxation technique I feel able to continue the sorry tale. When I say ‘new technique’, it’s only new to me, for the Idalagoo Indian tribe have been using the technique for thousands of years.

Basically you need to become one with nature, so that nature becomes one with you. In true Idalagoo style I fashioned a crude loin cloth from two shoelaces and a fig leaf, washed off all trace of after-shave, deodorant and hair-spray, and climbed the nearest tree. (For those of you curious about the hair-spray comment, please be assured that I do in fact possess a thick head of hair. I keep it in a drawer in the dressing table.)

Once ensconced in the tree, the idea is to breathe in time with the breeze, you slow your heart-beat till it runs to the gentle hum of the buzzing insects, but you stand or sit absolutely motionless in the tree. Eventually nature comes to accept your presence as an extension of the tree, and normally wary creatures eagerly gather round. The peace and mental tranquility that descends upon your mortal being at this stage is beyond description, it HAS to be experienced. As the meditative state deepens, eventually even the birds will accept you as part of nature. When the first bird decides to alight upon you, then you are ready to move onto stage two, the highest state of stress elimination possible.

Following the Idalagoo custom, as soon as the first bird lands on you, you leap from the tree with a blood-curdling scream, launching yourself at the nearest monkey or ape that happens to be passing. Once you have grappled the primate to the floor, you have to headbutt it repeatedly until it is unconscious, and then pluck two thirds of the hair from its head with your teeth.

Now I waited and waited and waited, the birds came and went, but I never caught sight of even a single monkey. (NB, I have since checked Wikipedia and it turns out monkeys are pretty rare in the midlands.) Not wanting to miss out on the benefits of the relaxation therapy, I decided to pounce upon the closest thing to a monkey that I could find. As luck would have it I had climbed a tree close to a pikey’s caravan site, and sure enough it wasn’t long before one of their young came ambling along, his arms full of bundles of copper wire from the telephone exchange and a couple of catalytic converters sawn off parked cars.

Seeing my chance, I took one deep breath, let out the deepest blood curdley scream I could. This scream was enhanced by the fact that the makeshift loin-cloth had gotten tangled around a branch, and the shoe-laces tightened terribly around the family jewels before they broke. Wrestling my intended victim to the round, it was at this point I realised that the enemy was in fact a rather attractive, raven-haired GIRL, with deep green Irish eyes. Exactly at this moment the local police farce arrived, and THAT your honour is how I came to be in that predicament. Surely you can see, I’M the victim here?

The case comes up next thursday. But back to the burning issue. OK magazine. OK! HAH! If ever there was a contradiction of reality, there it is. Somehow this magazine, which claims to give you all the news about the ‘stars’, in reality is so chock full of nonsense and drivel that reading it actually DECREASES your intelligence. It seems the rubbish they print goes into your brain’s receptors in such concentrated measures, that it actually clogs up your synapses and makes you thicker.

Here are some examples of the kind of literary manure you will find;

SHOCKER! Two people wear the same kind of dress!!

HORROR! Somebody has tan lines from wearing socks!!

DREADFUL! Person goes out without make-up!!

OH DEAR! Bluebell throws an almighty tantrum!!

I am not exactly sure how this has happened. In a society once proud of it’s record on women’s rights, we have allowed a magazine, aimed at the female market, to fill the feminine mind with such meaningless nonsense, that they are starting to actually turn into the very brainless trollops they are reading about.

Men of the world, it is high time we acted. If this is allowed to continue, the female brain will eventually degenerate to the point that they are no longer able to fulfill their basic responsibilities, and let me assure you, no matter HOW MUCH you pay, you will NEVER be able to buy a coffee machine that makes it JUST the way you like it, never mind one that will wash the dishes afterwards!!

But seriously, ‘OK!’ magazine-Sheeesh! I have a real fear that if we ever do get visited by aliens from Mars, they will take one glance at humans, and leave the earth forever. In their record books, I can imagine the following entry;

July 10th; Visited the planet known as “Earth” today. The atmosphere was on the poisonous side, and the waters were also contaminated. Searched high and low but without result. VERDICT : NO SIGN OF INTELLIGENT LIFE.

OK? It's anything but!

Sun, 29 Jun 2008 12:39:00 -0400

So it’s been a while……

The nights suitable for taking astro-photos have been so dreadfully infrequent, that a 3 toed sloth could count them on one hand/paw.

However in this time, during which the nights dont really get dark anyway, I have managed to take one photograph which received the ultimate acclaim. Namely, the wife saying “That’s not one of yours, is it?”

She still doesn’t believe me. Result!

But that’s not the reason I have called this meeting.

People of the world, it is time to take action!! I have recently become aware of EVIL propaganda, which is being spread like a malicious disease all over the place.

It was quite by accident that this insidious monster came to my attention. During these cloudy weeks, and having re-read all my back copies of “Electrical-Installation in Portable Chicken Feeders Weekly” I was searching for something else to feed my hungry brain with.

The wife came home with a glossy magazine that sounded REALLY exciting, promising pictures of the stars in all their glory, world exclusive stories, new interviews and more. I was almost drooling with excitement, expecting a banquet of fascinating information, a smorgasbord of astro-technology. Here I was sure was the latest facts and figures about things like the LHC. (Large Hadron Collider) See the CERN website. I dont know too much about him, but this Hadron must be quite a guy, judging by the wall he built across the English/Scottish border.

At any rate, there are those that that believe that when they turn on this machine, it will create a mini black hole that will suck the world as we know it into oblivion for eternity, leaving the only trace of humanity on Mars, in the form of a couple of robots with cameras, (loosely based on Japanese tourists I think).

Now THAT is the kind of thing we NEED to know. I mean, if the world is gonna end when some little european science geek plugs his machine into the mains, then we should be out there campaigning. Campaigning for higher limits on our credit cards, so that we can buy and use as much astro-kit as we possibly can before our number’s up. Hell, I’d even buy that pair of shoes the missus has always wanted. (She DOES look good barefoot though, which is why I keep her that way.)

On the other hand, if they keep pushing up the price of fuel, there’s gonna be no way they can afford to run the Large Hadron Collider, and it will become the world’s most expensive ornament.

Fuel! There’s another thing! I remember when you could go down the road and siphon off a gallon or two of petrol from parked cars, no trouble at all. Now there’s a queue wherever you go! Trying to save a few hundred pounds worth of fuel by letting the car coast down a hill, I came very close to a sticky end. I know NOW that turning off the ignition turns off the steering, the air con and the brakes. Apparently it also turns ON the steering lock and immobiliser. Hah! Some immobiliser, there I was, careering downhill at about one hundred miles an hour, I dont call THAT being immobilised. The car hurtled on and on, and was brought to an abrupt halt when it collided with a tanker carrying liquid toffee. A millions gallons of caramelly goo came gushing in my general direction, and I was only spared when a passing troupe of Weightwatchers on a day trip leapt from their coach and ploughed into the toffee, consuming the greater part before I was drowned by it. (Actually I should point out that there was a loss of life, a certain Ms Wigglebottom got into difficulty and drowned in the liquid sugar. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she hadn’t got out 3 times to go to the toilet.)

But that’s another story. It’s funny but I can’t say the phrase “Large Hadron Collider” without thinking about the time my mother-in-law took a driving lesson. There was all that confusion with the shoe-horn, and the ensuing legal battles with the makers of the Mini, who insisted that if somebody can get INTO a car, then they should be able to get OUT of it too, regardless of how many packs of sausage rolls they ate during the journey. The instructor didn’t help, he should NEVER have tried to give a lesson while sitting on the roof, no matter how short of room the car was on the inside.

Actually, I am pleased to report that I get on a lot better with the mother-in-law these days, ever since she got a new job with the UN. Apparently they take her to developing countries and lay her across a valley, where she acts as a temporary dam. It was all going quite well until a short sighted farmer tried to drive a herd of cattle over her. The poor things were so traumatised that half of them jumped into the water, and the rest stopped producing milk and took to hanging around on street corners. The farmer on the other hand seemed to fall instantly in love (I did say he was short-sighted), and I think she may have accepted his proposal if he’d have offered just one more camel.

But back to the issue at hand. The “Star” magazine. You know, when I last checked, a ‘Star’ was an exploding giant ball of hydrogen fuelled nuclear power, millions of kilometers in diameter, with a lifespan of billions of years.

No, it’s no good, I’m gonna have to come back to this…. I’m still seeing red. I’m typing so hard the springs under the keys keep breaking….I’ll take a relaxation break…. and then come right back…… but be warned, it’s not a pretty story…!

To be continued……

Do You Feel Lucky?

Sun, 04 May 2008 18:12:00 -0400

Well, do ya?

Now, let’s be perfectly clear. I don’t believe in fate, I don’t believe in luck, predestination or karma, and I snort contemptuously down my nose at those pathetically ignorant trailers (*) who smile sweetly and explain “Well you see, all Scorpio’s are the same.”

[Please excuse me for five minutes whilst I fantasize about gathering all the astrologers in a room, then using a 4 inch core drill to remove their soggy excuse for a brain, and replace it with rice pudding, blu-tac, or a heady mix of carbon, sulphur, and potassium nitrate. There…that’s better.]

Notwithstanding the aforementioned disclaimers, I’m sure you, dear reader, (“reader”, > which I am sure applies only to my parole officer and mother in law. (These are not the same person! Geez, imagine that!!) The former reads this blog in a desperate attempt to get me re-admitted, and the latter scours each episode for circumstantial evidence that will help to get her aquitted on the grounds of diminished responsibility, or extreme provocation, when she finally suceeds in doing me in. Jabba the Hutt, as she is affectionately known (the affection is for the name, not the in-law), has been trying to get shot of me for years now. Heaven knows why. My only crime was to fall in love with her beautiful daughter, and two or three of her beautiful daughters’ friends…. Anyway Jabba, just stick a toothbrush in your ear, shove porridge up your nose, and carry round a one-armed doll that you insist on calling “My baby, MY BAAAAABY!”. Everything else about you already looks the part, it shouldn’t take much more to convince the authorities that you are barking mad, hell, I’d swear to it in court. Oh and by the way, thanks for the sandwiches, I fed them to next doors cat. It’s a shame, they are really gonna miss him….)

Blimey, where were we? Oh yeah, notwithstanding etc etc blah blah, do you ever get one of them days? You know, one of them days when everything goes smoother than smooth?

You must get them, every now and again. The sun shining through the window tells you it’s gonna be a glorious day….you get up and find you slept on the dry side ALL night, for once your mouth doesn’t taste like you have been chewing on decaying hamster garnished with horse manure, and when you look in the mirror there’s a glint in the eye and a flash in the smile of the guy who is staring back. Oh yes, it’s gonna be a GOOD day!!

You set off for work, first kissing the other half goodbye, passionately, on the doorstep. The liitle old dear who lives over the way and who singlehandedly performs the neighbourhood watch for your street twitches behind her curtains and has to sit down with palpitations, and your sexy little wife bends one leg at the knee and curls her toes, giggling like a naughty schoolgirl. (If anybody finds that sentence offensive, then I am sorry. Sorry that you are a small minded turnip brain. Please join the cue where you hear the sound of the core drill.)

Once in the car, you find that Wogan is playing your favourite song, he’s telling your favourite jokes, and he’s wearing your favourite toupé. All the traffic lights are on green, except one, and when you stop at the red, a sporty little number with its top down pulls up next to you, (steady on, I’m describing the car, not the girl!) Inside is a twenty-something angel, all blonde, eyes, and floatation accessories, and when you wind down your window, she catches your drool, sorry, catches your eye, smiles knowingly, and winks, before speeding off. Oh yeah, it’s gonna be a GOOD day!

Once at the office, your new found confidence from the hottie in the car starts to pay off. The foxy receptionist, known by all as the ice queen, visibly melts when you give her a grin, and as she sits there with her little finger in the corner of her mouth (-Break for Cold Shower-) you get news from the MD.

“TJ” he says, “You will know that we have had to make some difficult choices, and in this world dominated by equality issues, and litigation, it is imperative that we pursue a course that will not leave us open to those prepared to sue other people for as much as breathing. Therefore, we are offering you the role of Chief President Managing Executive Director, and charging you with the responsibility of making all the female “managers” redundant. You are also authorised to re-employ three of them, in any role related to catering or cleaning. Please issue boxes of Kleenex to the females concerned, we don’t want the inevitable blarting to spoil the french polish on the desks now, do we. Oh, one more thing, speaking of “French-Polish”, I have a new secretary for you, that’s her over there in the mini-skirt, I hope you don’t mind, But I gave her permission to exercise in the office. Oh I say, she IS flexible!”

(We decided to call her “Squeezy”, it was the closest we could get to pronouncing her proper name with our tongues hanging out.)

Part way through this most excellent of days, and as you are idly designing “Wait Here For Core Drill” signs in MS Word, you start to muse about the evening ahead. Checking the weather forecast reveals high pressure, low humidity, gentle breezes, and excellent visibility. Now, I dont know about you, but up until this point, I haven’t questioned the events of the day, just lapped them up. But now this forecast………….Surely the powers that be are simply teasing?

So you get home, and you set up. The sky is ablaze with stars, but the moon is nowhere to be seen. You turn on your mount system, and find three perfect stars straight away. The GOTO is putting objects bang in the centre of the eyepiece, time after time. The camera achieves crystal sharp focus with the slightest twiddle, your auto-guiding setup finds a perfect star and tracks flawlessly, and the sky is full of fabulous DSO’s just a’waiting to be snapped up greedily by the camera.

Question. What usually happens at this point? Well, in no particular order, I have arranged a list of possible, usual, and frequent occurrencies.

1) You kick the tripod.

2) You kick the power lead out and lose your settings.

3) The clouds roll in.

4) The wife comes down to bring you a coffee, at the exact same moment that the girl next door, for the first time ever, gets changed with the curtains open. The wife assumes that your whole ‘hobby’ of astronomy has simply been a ruse, grabs a hammer and rearranges your telescope, then grabs your telescope and rearranges your teeth.

5) Your Parole officer calls and demands to know why you have been sending envelopes stuffed with pigs’ eyeballs to your mother-in-laws address.

Have you been there? I know you have. The odd thing is, nothing happened. I set my camera up, it took 10 x 300 second exposures, no trailing, no beeping from PHD as it lost its star, and no clouds. In disbelief I yanked R2D2 from his slumber and poked him towards the delights of the skies. The pictures I was taking were of Messier object No.57, otherwise called the “Ring Nebula”. On the pictures it shows itself as a rich red and cerulean, but I had no idea, whatsoever, what it looked like ‘in the flesh’ so to speak. But R2D2 picked it out effortlessly, and I must have sounded slightly more mad than normal as I exclaimed loudly at approx 03:00, ” OH WOW!! LOOK AT THAT!!”

I am convinced the neighbours think I have an invisible friend in the garden somewhere, as they hear me enthusing away to myself about the various object in the skies.

So what IS the catch? Perhaps it is this. I am sitting on the best data I have been able to collect so far. The longest exposures, the tightest focus, the most accurate framing. And I simply do not have time to process them! Not a spare hour, minute or second. And there doesn’t seem to be much light on the horizon (which normally in astronomy is good, but in this case, not) for any improvement.

Oh, I know what you are thinking….all that time writing that true story could have been spent much better in processing pictures. But life is rarely that simple. For what if, for instance, somebody else had written all this for me???

The End.

(*) - “Trailer” - as opposed to a “Tractor”. One who is pulled along, not one who does the pulling, dragged whichever way the tractor wishes.

Thanks Squeezy, that will be all, you can go back to your toe-touching exercises now, feel free to loosen another button if you wish, It IS warm in here, I’m a little hot under the collar myself. Why are you still writing?

A long time ago, in a galaxy far far away.....

Tue, 15 Apr 2008 15:12:00 -0400

With those words George Lucas introduced R2D2 to an unexpecting world. A white and blue tin can with a domed head, that makes whistling observations and comments in a language all of its own, that everybody except the viewer seems to understand.

R2D2 later revealed his ability to fly, display movies, control elevators and electrocute giggling rats. He also functioned as a cunning place to hide a light sabre, and he could hurl it across the room into the hands of the nearest acne ridden Jedi.

As far as I know, R2D2 never had a telescope. Perhaps if I could jump into hyperspace and goes whizzing all over the outer rim, then I wouldn’t bother with a telescope either, just take along a Kodak disposable camera and snap away at the nebulae as you zip past them.

It has so far never been established whether R2D2 would try to form a relationship with another robot. To determine the answer to this question, a company called “Skywatcher”, (an obvious play on “Skywalker”) has produced a device intended to arouse strong feelings in R2D2. Almost an exact copy of the squat little fellow, and codenamed E00P (300P in leetspeak), they are intended to be placed in fields in dark sky locations, so that the real R2D2 can see them from space and pop down to engage in whatever dumpy robots engage in. Maybe we get to see yet another attachment….

Obviously, I would want to be part of this experiment. My good wife, (as opposed to my bad wife who is kept in a garage in Dagenham), was also enchanted by the little beauty. Apparently there is some kind of attachment that allows you to see into space to see if R2D2 is zooming down on his X-wing. I have spoken to eye-witnesses at the last experiment, and although they scoured galaxy after galaxy, there was no sign of R2. Not to be deterred, I spoke to a trader today who sold me my very own 300P. He also advised that I would need a laser collimator for it. I presume this is some kind of device you use to shoot down the wrong kind of interested party. For instance, if Darth Vader starts winging his asthmatic ass down to your star party, you give him a short sharp blast of the laser. If you catch a glint of gold bearing down on you, it could be C3PO. Let him land, then push him in a vat of boiling lead. Take no chances.

Obviously, (except perhaps to that bunch of extremists that actually believe in Star Wars and know all the serial and VIN numbers of the spaceships that were not even in the movie.) To those people I give this advice;

1. Use the force.

2. Find the force by licking your fingers and then shoving them into a plug socket. The force will be with you, always.

Yes obviously, I am referring to the fact that I have purchased yet another telescope. The drivel above is simply because I know more about R2D2, (but not his serial number) than about my new Skywatcher 300p Flexitube.

I used to make fun of the women who, when asked “What kind of car do you drive?”, they would say “A red one”. I have now changed into those women. I dont mean literally, these are pecs, not man-boobs, but if you ask me what kind of telescope it is, I would only be able to reveal that it is a “white one that looks like R2D2”.

I know it looks like I have purchased this thing on a whim because it looks like an iconic robot from the 70’s. Trust me, if they make a telescope that looks like Metal Mickey, or that Biddy Biddy Biddy idiot that followed Buck Rogers everywhere, then I give up astronomy and take up knitting, or self-harming. Because in truth I have taken delivery of this little Dobsonian on the recommendation of people I trust. Whether I still trust them in two weeks shall no doubt be revealed, along with a full review of the new R2D2.

Oops, almost forgot, the other reason for getting one was that I could not find a definitive answer to the question “Can you take photo’s through these things?” So I am gonna see for myself.

The new scope arrives tomorrow, so prepare for a month of cloudy skies. In the meantime, I’m gonna go sharpen my light-sabre (serial OICU812). Just in case Monsiuer Vader comes around looking for stolen plans……

Actually, somebody told me that M13 is the remnants of the Death Star, can anybody out there PROVE that it isn’t?

My first time...

Tue, 08 Apr 2008 16:15:00 -0400

They say you never forget your first time. Well, I have just returned from my very first “Star Party”. In truth I had to lure the missus there under false pretences.

I had implied that she would be surrounded by Hollywood “A -listers”, and that while I swapped make-up tips with George Clooney, she would be able to swan around with the ‘Stars’, and spend her time discussing cosmetic surgery and Botox injections with the experts.

I think when we rolled up in the caravan at a remote site in the middle of nowhere in Norfolk, she started to twig. Up until that point I had managed to explain away the inclusion of my telescope in the luggage as “the only way to get a close up piccy of the rich ‘n’ famous!”

But there we were, Kelling Heath, Spring star party. The site itself was half full. Apparently it had been fully booked until word got out on the internet that my children were going to be there. I did try to put them in kennels for the weekend, but apparently it is against the law to feed Pedigree Chum to children. How times have changed…….

So we pulled into the field to find we had been placed next door to a beautiful brand new caravan that had never been used before. Like a poor relation we duly parked up, and as the tribe and two rabid dogs exploded out of the vehicle, I could see the concerned looking owner of the new caravan hastily checking his insurance policy. Luckily he had been to the butchers that day, and managed to throw a lump of raw meat out of his window, which kept two of the children and both of the dogs busy, whilst the middle child went off to find telescopes to push over.

You have to give some credit to astronomers, they have to be amongst the most optimistic of people. For there we were, surrounded by dense cloud, every forecast and satellite picture showed worse was on the way, and they STILL got their kit out and set it up. I did likewise just so as not to feel left out, but there didn’t seem to be a hope in hell of seeing a single star.

With the children and dogs caged up, the Missus and I downed a bottle of something sweet and Rosé coloured, and a measure or two of Scotlands finest export, and settled down for the night. At around 1.30am the dogs started barking, and I poked my head out to tell them to shut up before I turned them into rugs, when I noticed the skies had actually cleared somewhat. Still considerably lubricated, I tried to get into the car for some chewing gum, completely forgetting that the helpful Japanese had designed the car as an anti-astronomy device. The six giant indicator lights blazed out, followed by the puddle lights under the wing mirrors. The interior lights shone as bright as day, and a passing light aircraft took a detour and tried to land in the camping field. Thankfully a patrolling steward came over with his hammer and put the lights out, and my punishment was to write 500 lines of “I must not use a motor vehicle to blind people”, and to take round a can of corned beef to every astronomer whose night vision was ruined. Apparently there used to be a certain tent in the corner of the field where errant white light producing folk would be taken and spanked severely, but it proved to be so popular that people were deliberately bringing floodlights.

It should be mentioned I suppose that at the end of the three days, I had learnt all the choice expressions used with regard to them folk what drive around the camp with their lights on, and I even found myself muttering them too.

Before I knew it, dawn was creeping up. There, shining huge and bright was Jupiter. Through the telescope he looked magnificent, and this was the first time I had seen him. Bonus for having stayed up the whole night. I grabbed a couple of photos, crashed inside, only to be rudely awoken at 7am - “C’MON DAD, LETS GO PLAY FOOTBALL!!”

There is more to be told. There is the new faces and friendships, there is the new mount purchased on a whim, there was the awning blowing away, there was the snow, there was the mis-understanding as to the nature of the red light on our caravan, there was the final clear spell after most had gone home, but these stories can wait and be mis-told another time. For now, I will let a limerick tell the rest of the tale.

My First Time…..

So I’m back from my first Star Camp,
The weather was cloudy and damp,
But most of the mob,
Had some fun with a Dob.,
Whilst I played around with a lamp.

It’s because I was eager to please,
Those out there starting to freeze,
That I turned my light red,
(The one over the bed),
Didn’t think it would be such a tease.

Like moths to a candle they came,
The wife said they all looked the same,
Old, grey or balding,
She gave them a scolding,
For thinking that she’s on the “game”!

So after the misunderstanding,
The weather was proving demanding,
Some tents blew away,
If it’s right what they say,
It’s down Norwich way that they were landing.

And although it’s in April you go,
You are sometimes pelted with snow,
Or sleet, hail and ice,
Which isn’t so nice
But you just go along with the flow.

I stayed up a whole night till the morning,
And was treated to Jupiter dawning,
But I aint at my best,
On a night without rest,
And ended up grunting and yawning.

On the whole it wasn’t so bad,
Though the locals thought we were mad,
And those that stayed longer,
Though winds had grown stronger,
Enjoyed the best skies to be had.

And I liked my time there at Kelling,
And the stands and stuff they were selling,
So I got some new kit,
Which cost quite a bit,
But how much I spent I aint telling!

Ode to Dark Skies....

Mon, 24 Mar 2008 21:03:00 -0400

I have a little tale to tell, a story for our time,
Another funny episode in life’s great pantomime.
Could you spare me just a minute, and permit me to explain,
Why the lights are out all over town, and I’m in jail again?

You see, I was formerly a violent man, and given to bad temper,
I’d pick a fight all year long, from Jan’ry to December.
The Doctors said, “It’s time for you to choose a peaceful lifestyle,
“Find a hobby to relax, swap that frowning for a nice smile!”

And what could be more peaceful, more refreshing to the soul,
Than the hobby of Astronomy, with distant stars the goal?
The Doctors thought that suited well, and encouraged all the more,
They even bought a telescope, delivered to my door.

I confess I mustered quite a smile, with the thought of all those stars,
I’d find my peace and solace in Saturn, the Moon, and Mars.
With all my angst forgotten, there was keen anticipation,
As I waited for the clouds to clear and bring me liberation.

Eventually the night arrived, and the telescope was mounted,
From what I’d heard, Orion’s Sword should leave me quite dumbfounded.
But it didn’t quite have that effect, and gave no satisfaction,
You see the bathroom light was on, and proving a distraction.

And every time my eyes came close to being dark adjusted,
The lousy light came on again, blinding. ‘Til I sussed it.
My wife was now in darkness, with no power at her sockets,
And I was outside grinning with the fuses in my pockets!

But not for long my victory, for worse was on its way,
The neighbour has a safety light that shines as bright as day.
And every time some rotten cat would set off its detectors,
The million watts blazed out again, and wrecked my dark receptors.

I have sympathy for my neighbour, and I know he’s eighty-three,
But my pellet gun took out his bulb, and set the darkness free.
It’s probably coincidence that he should fall and trip,
And be taken off to hospital to nurse a broken hip.

So back unto the eyepiece, and behold a glorious sight!
And then the streetlamps buzzed to life, bleaching out the night.
I had a .22 rifle, and the streetlights drove me barmy,
So I shot them from 100 yards, (had my training in the army.)

Surely now the skies would be, really dark and unmolested,
And I would see the heavens, black and star infested.
But then on each horizon, yes that’s East, South, North and West,
Light pollution from the Cities proved to be a pest.

When I said I was a violent man, well, please don’t doubt my motives,
But rather blame the Army, they taught me ‘bout explosives!
And a little bit of TNT, I thought might solve my trouble,
What used to be a power plant, is now a pile of rubble.

The Boys in Blue turned up in force, with no interest in my plight,
With their helicopter search lamps beaming through the night.
And If I hadn’t shouted “OI! Turn Off That Bloomin’ Torch!!”
Then I’m sure I could have hidden in the next door neighbours porch.

Now at last, it’s really dark, but there’s an awful sense of dread,
For it’s not the heavens that I see, just the sack upon my head.
And thanks to thumps delivered, and administered in spite,
I do not need a telescope, I’ve been seeing stars all night!

The Torn Astronomer....

Fri, 22 Feb 2008 17:56:00 -0500

The Torn Astronomer

A tale I feel I have to tell,
It may well make you weep,
About a problem faced by man,
Whilst others are asleep.

Our man is an “Astronomer”,
Or so he tells his friends,
He likes to gaze up at the stars,
But that’s not where it ends.

For his life is rarely simple,
When a starry night appears.
And an evening at the eyepiece,
Can often end in tears.

So here is the dilemma,
Our Astromoner must face,
He took a wife in marriage,
And she doesn’t know her place.

Imagine this scenario,
Orion’s on the rise,
Pluto’s in acension,
And a comet adds surprise.

The seeing was the best for years,
The sky is crystal clear,
A waning moon quite hidden,
The perfect night is here!

His telescope is duly raised,
Polaris shows the way,
And all that money spent on kit,
Would FINALLY start to pay!

However….

Remember when we said that,
“Lifes’ road’s not always straight”?
Well, although the Heavens beckon him,
A Tigress lies in wait.

Purring from the shadows,
Her eyes survey her prey.
He looks so cold and lonely,
She’ll surely have her way!

The dark arts of seduction,
Which are never known to fail,
Are practised now upon our guy,
A helpless, hapless male.

A flash of a suspender belt,
A generous glimspe of cleavage,
The powers of the woman,
That give her massive leverage.

He does try hard to concentrate,
And slews around to Saturn,
But his fingers start to tremble,
Its the old familiar pattern.

Telescope abandoned now,
The Tigress claims her prize,
And the only stars seen twinkling,
Are the ones found in her eyes.

And so it goes, most every time,
Though you might think it corny,
That when the skies are at their best,
His wife is always horny.

So if it’s telescope or passion,
Cold stars or hot romance,
The enticements of the female form,
Don’t give the stars a chance.

A zillion years of Suns and Moons,
They’re going no place fast.
And my advice is, if you’re torn,
ENJOY IT WHILE IT LASTS!!!

Dear Julie....

Thu, 14 Feb 2008 16:22:00 -0500

I know these kind of letters are supposed to be called “Dear Johns”, but my wife isn’t called John, not since the operation.

I have a confession to make, and where better than in the privacy of a blog page that is only accessible to earth dwellers. But first a little explanation, as I am sure there are fellow victims out there that can sympathise with my situation.

For my wife doesn’t understand me. And I dont mean just the times when I come inside after a night star-gazing and my tongue has frozen to the roof of my mouth, for at these times I can usually communicate by sign language that I am about 2 minutes away from a hypothermic coma.

No, I mean in more serious terms. Try as I might I cannot seem to convey the delights of the Universe, I cannot convince her to spend some time out in the open enjoying the open skies. I have tried everything. I tried the obvious lure of mathematical enormity,

“Did you realise that that fuzzy smudge is two point nine billion light years away?” The look on her face explained that SHE was THREE point nine billion light years away form being impressed.

I have tried using the natural beauty of the Universe. One night I woke her up at 4.30am to come and take a look through the telescope. I proudly enthused about the barely visible wisps in the eyepiece, delivering my intended Coup de Grace with the line “And did you realise that with a CCD camera, those wispy bits actually show up as RED!! Isn’t that AMAZING?” Julie saw red WITHOUT the CCD camera, and I thanked my lucky stars that I had the foresight to hide the keys to the gun cabinet.

I have tried using things that interest her as a lure. “Here Darling, come and see the Handbag Constellation, it’s just there along with the shoes nebula!!” Although at first this tack showed promise, all hope faded when the word “Gucci” was not visible through the eyepiece.

Reverse psychology failed too. In my best poker faced non-chalant style, I proclaimed, “Oh, I’m not looking at anything much, you wouldn’t be interested.” Obviously I hoped to stir her curiosity with this statement, but she replied “Finally you admit that it’s boring.”

I suppose that with this complete incompatibilty in things that REALLY matter, it was inevitable that we should drift apart, like a badly polar aligned scope. I know that you will all see my side in this, and that she is being completely unreasonable. For instance;

The other night it was perfectly clear. Naturally I got home from work and made my way straight outside, getting the equipment set up for the night ahead. I’m not sure if the wife was at home at this point or not, but before you knew it the unreasonable demands started coming;

“I’ve made a special dinner, it will be ready in 20 mins.”

Not satisfied, the nagging continued;

“You dinner’s been out for 5 minutes going cold, it cost me a lot of money and time to make it, please come in and eat with your family.”

I mean, what is WRONG with the woman? She could SEE that Mars was at its zenith, and it wasn’t MY fault that the first few hours imaging had been wasted by leaving the lens cap on. But still not content the onslaught kept up;

“I’m putting your dinner on a plate on the oven. I’m really dissapointed that you missed the meal, especially on our anniversary. I’m going to bed now.”

Nag nag nag nag nag………..it’s all I get. It affected me so much that all the shots I got of Mars were blurry and wasted, and it’s all HER fault.

Oh sure, she says it’s all me, that I’m the one to blame, that I never have time for her or the kids, the car hasn’t been washed in 3 years, and that ever since I started astronomy it’s like nothing else matters, but then she WOULD say that wouldn’t she. Probably her mother put her up to it. That woman would say ANYTHING to discredit me. I’m not saying that my wife doesn’t have a mind of her own, but she doesn’t even know what an arc-minute looks like in the sky. I mean, come on, somethings up with that.

So I suppose it was only realistic that we should end up celestial poles apart. And hence the reason for the following letter. I only hope it brings her to her senses.

Dear Julie,

I know the last few months haven’t been easy for me. There have been just too many cloudy nights, and such light polluted skies that life hasn’t been much fun. I’m not blaming you for this, but you have made the cloudy nights worse by complaining when I spent all night looking at previously taken astrophotos.

Also, I find your constant demands on my time to be quite unreasonable. I can only assure you that my tiredness is NOT due to the star-gazing all night, that it is probably a medical condition caused by the stress you give me, and YES, sometimes three sleepy grunts IS all the conversation I can muster. If you have any really vital requests or information for me, then I suggest you send me a message via the StarGazersLounge.com forum, and maybe you could view my posts on there as part of my conversation with you.

You are bound to find out sooner or later, so it’s best that I be up front about it. Because we have drifted apart, I have been hanging around with another woman. And yes, I admit now, that I have spent a night with her.

Her name is Selene, and she is a little older than you, but younger than your mother I think. She is everything you are not. Every day she is something new and exciting, a real full bodied, in your face beauty one minute, and a coy little minx the next. I agree that her complexion is a little pock marked, but her face seems to shine all the more.

Selene helps me see things in a whole new light. In fact, when she is at her best, it is hard to see anything else. She eclipses all others. She makes me feel like the Karate Kid; wax on, wane off. Like all women, she is subject to a monthly cycle, but unlike you, she is predictable, I always know what the cycle will bring, and never once have I caught her trying to sell my telescope on ebay.

You are probably wondering where we met. I turns out I have known Selene for most of my life, and I think you know her too. I happened to be out with my camera, and caught her in one of the photos. Right away I was transfixed. There was so much more to this woman, I HAD to see more. We spent more and more time together, eventually, it was the whole night. To your relief, I can explain that I haven’t SLEPT with her yet, not a wink, but I am very relaxed in her company. She is such a good listener, I find I can talk for hours without interruption, and yet she never nags at me.

I have been told that she has a dark side, but I have never seen it. I really feel that with her influence, the tide of my life has turned. You may say i’m a lunartic, but I make no Apollo-gies for my actions. She really gives me a Buzz. She makes my Arm strong. I finally feel that the Eagle has landed. Life is like a beach on the sea of tranquility.

STOP PRESS: I feel I have to tell you that I have finished with Selene. Oh sure, it was fun while it lasted, but it turns out she was very possessive. I had been hoping to spend a little time with seven beautiful sisters the other evening, but Selene was having none of it. She did eveything in her power to stop me seeing them. And so I called the whole thing off. You might think that after the previous part of this letter that I would be upset. Far from it. In fact I am really glad that we ended the relationship.

You could even say, “I’m over the moon!”

First Blood..........

Thu, 17 Jan 2008 12:47:00 -0500

……. I think they usually call it ‘First Light’ in astro language. However, as you may be gathering, things are rarely that straighforward.

I finally have ‘all’ of my kit. I say all, I’m sure there will be things added to this list over the months to come, astronomy as a hobby seems to offer the casual participant ever increasing circles of opportunity to spend cash. I think thats why the term ‘Black Hole’ was coined by astronomers, as a way to explain to their wives where all the income was being sucked away to.

(Did you notice that the above sentence implies that all astronomers are men? Curious thing that. I can’t put my finger on what it is that makes standing around in the icy freezing cold, looking up a pipe at dots in the sky, something that the fairer sex dont enjoy. I have a theory that it is some kind of distorted jealousy thing. For example, the other night I rushed in, icicles dripping from my nose, eyes, ears and other appendages, and exclaimed “I’VE JUST SEEN THE MOST FANTASTIC DOUBLE CLUSTER!!!!!”, and all the missus did was roll her eyes in a way that said ‘He’s been eyeing up the next door neighbour again!’

If any proper female astronomers should ever in the course of time read this, then please make yourself known to me (Ask a male friend to show you how to send an e-mail), I’d love to meet a genuine one-of-a-kind.)

When I started this lark, they said to me, “Ooooh, Its a steep learning curve.” I now appreciate that they might have had ID-TEN-T type errors in mind for me, (written down as ID10T). So hands up if you’ve ever made any of the following mistakes……

1) Polar aligned your telescope on a completely wrong star, and spent the rest of the night working out why every photo had crazy star trails on.

2) Focused the telescope, then put the lens cap on to clear the dew while you set the camera up, then spent the rest of the night taking pictures of the inside of the lens cap.

3) Tried focusing with lens cap on. (“Geee, its REAL dark tonight….”) Score more ID10T points for every time you went thru the entire focusing range.

4) Spent an hour getting everything precisely aligned with reticle eyepieces etc to get the most from your pictures, and then kicked the leg of the tripod.

5) Spent an hour getting everything precisely aligned with reticle eyepieces etc to get the most form your pictures, and it started to rain.

6) Used too short a cable from laptop to camera and had the mount slew round and pull the laptop off the table.

7) Accidentally undone the click fitting for the camera and watched said camera fall off when you rotate the eyepiece.

8) Spent 30 mins getting your eyes used to the dark, and then half-blinded yourself looking at the moon.

9) Spent longer looking at the image of the moon on the back of your hand when you remove the eyepiece, than you do actually looking through the eyepiece. (Try 57.5mm for optimum focus….)

10) Spent 8 hours trying to get your PC to communicate with your camera via serial cable, (repeating swear words like a Buddhist with his mantra), only to find you have the wrong cable and it would never work.

By now you are get the picture, or more likely, an out of focus shot of star trails. But I know what you are thinking…….”TELL US ABOUT THE BLOOD!!” (All except for ‘Precious’ from Bedfordshire who passed out at the word ‘Blood’ and has only just come round. Oh, there he goes again.)

So there I was in the midst of a black forest. Not the gateau, the place. Not THE Black forest, just A black forest. There was a little window to the stars and it was a really dark site, I just HAD to get the scope out. Besides, the villa was full of relatives and in-laws, so even if it had been raining the being outdoors would have been a better choice. Jabba the Hutt was there too, and I could see in her red eyes that she was imagining me strapped to a railway line, whilst being covered in angry red ants and then set on fire, while my eyelids and fingernails were being chewed by rats. But the mother-in-law is a different story.

Strange powers were at work. I did have some fortune. As luck would have it I did manage to take this photo;

http://www.btinternet.com/~mr.squeegee/Astro/M42_08012008.JPG

Somebody somewhere said I was a ‘ringer’ when I showed it to him, which I think is somebody who takes pictures of Saturn. The next bit of luck came in my decision to remove the telescope from the mount before moving it. If I hadn’t, the next bit could have been so much worse.

So it was late, and I was all alone in the forest, (except for the owls and the wierd guy in the mac looking in all the windows). In a frequent moment of insanity, I decided it would be best to move the mount, still with counterweights attached, into the safety of the villa. It was also uphill to the van, so that clinched it. But moving the mount with legs extended is difficult, like dancing with a girl so fat you cant get your arms around her. So I lowered the legs, seemed an obvious thing to do. First one, then another, and then………. It was at this point that the counterweights, in the absence of the scope weight they were countering, decided to swing round on the RA axis. This in turn made the whole tripod, already leaning crazily because of two shortened legs, go crashing over.

In that horrible slow motion that follows such things, I decided to play the hero, I would take the bullet for the president. Kicking my leg out wildly, I managed to catch the falling ensemble on the outside of my foot, just below the ankle bone. It was the counterweight rod, complete with 10kg of counterweights that struck me. The force was something akin to being hit with a sledgehammer. The impact went through my shoe, forged a gash in my sock, and made a meteorite like impact crater on my foot. In the irony of rough justice, the warm blood flowing freely from the gash helped to warm up my frozen foot.

When I realized it was unlikely I would die from the injury, I had to face the prospect of still putting the mount away, this time on one leg. It may be useful to note that in emergency situations, a telescope tripod can make a semi effective crutch, albeit three legged which forces you to walk in a semi-circle to your destination.

Somehow I dragged my bleeding way into the villa, poured myself a small whisky for the pain, and collapsed in a heap on the couch. Through painful hazy eyes I can just remember a shadowy, Hutt-like being hovering over me and muttering “He must have had a skinful…….look at the state of him. I told you you should of married that nice boy from Oxford!”

It's a good job....

Wed, 02 Jan 2008 15:29:43 -0500

….It’s been cloudy.

If the nights had been clear I would have been tearing my few remaining hairs out. No eyepieces for the telescope, except for the one that came with it, (which doesn’t count because it doesn’t have its own shiny and new box).

They, and the rest of their bits are due to fly in tomorrow, with a following wind, but I’m not holding my breath.

When you buy a new car, you suddenly start to notice how many other similar cars there are to yours. (My last car was a Fiat (I know, I know) Multipla, and when I got that all the other Multipla drivers started waving at me. Once or twice even I was ambushed into returning the royal wave. My wife says they are just thanking me for not crashing into them.)

Anyway, I have suddenly started to become aware of the number of people who are interested in astronomy. And I mean GENUINELY interested, not like those that go “Oh yeah, I always wanted to get a telescope” and you go “Well hey! Come round and see mine, I can show you saturn and xyz cool things!” and they go, ” erm, well, yeah, I wish I could but I have to stay home and erm, shave my forearms.”

Really, young and old alike, and even girls!! Some appear to just be closet astronomers, whilst others are wearing T-shirts that say “I’d rather be glued to my telescope!” (which, incidentally, is illegal in Lithuania, after the “Incident”).

But I guess really we are just pursuing the oldest visual appreciation technique there is, and there’s something comforting in the knowledge that even without Bill Gates, Kofi Annan, George Bush and Paris Hilton, there are some constants in life. And they aint going anywhere fast.

So come on eyepieces! There’s clear nights on the way!!

It's Behind You!!.....

Wed, 26 Dec 2007 14:59:00 -0500

…”Oh No It Isn’t!”

Well, It’s pantomime season. If you don’t have Pantomime in your part of the world, let me explain it in the briefest way i can.

Pantomime: A short story where the men dress as women, the women dress as men, the hero goes through a series of adventures and triumphs in the end, but it’s the bad guy that every really loves and remembers and who gets the biggest laughs. A bit like America I suppose. At any rate, if you have never been to a performance, dont fret, you haven’t missed out on one of life’s choicer morsels. Sure, it’s a laugh, the audience get involved, but there’s no hiding what panto really is, theatre for thick people.

And it’s a lot like astronomy……….

Ladies & Gentlemen, may I present, “Jack & The Giant Beanscope/Telestalk!”

Narrator: Not long ago on a planet 93 Million miles from our sun, there was a young man called Jack. (Much more dynamic than my real name.) Jack was devilishly handsome, the offspring of Adonis himself. At least, so his mother says. (His mother-in-LAW however will insist that he is the personification of the devil, with a family line including Attila the Hun, Pol Pott, Adolf Hitler and Robert Mugabe.) Jack was poor. Although he worked every waking hour, and proof-read blog sites while he was asleep, he never had much in the way of golden coins. Not only that, he was the sole provider for several mouths, always open and squawking for food, new shoes, handbags and playstation games. Luckily the absurd fashions of the day made Jack’s ragged clothes look deliberately torn. But Jack had a dream………

Jack: Oh yes! I DO have a dream! I dream of building a ladder to the stars, and climbing on every rung! I dream of ……

Narrator: Thank you Jack, we get the picture. I would point out that whilst Jack’s outburst may give you the impression that he wouldn’t be out of place in a ‘luvvy’ (theatrical) crowd, he is in fact so masculine he makes the late great Barry White look like a schoolgirl. But would Jack’s dream ever come true? But Wait! Who is that wizened old woman standing by the road with www.stargazerslounge.com written on the back of her cloak?

Old Woman: Hello Jack! How about swapping that faithful old cow you are leading around for this magic box?

Jack: How dare you call my wife an old cow!! I guess you were joking, so I’ll tell you to pull the udder one! THIS is the cow that makes me jump over the Moooon, THIS is the cow that provided my rugrats with their Milky Whey, THIS is a really SPECIAL cow, no bull. What’s in the box anyway?

Old Woman: In this box is the first rung on your ladder Jack, but you have to swap. You can’t spend your nights with the cow and with what’s in the box. What do you choose Jack?

Narrator: Our hero makes his choice. Vowing to return for her when he is rich and famous, or bored, he swaps his beloved ‘Daisy’ (Much less dynamic than her real name.) for the box. Jack set off in the direction of home. The old crone set off in the direction of the abbatoir. Back home, Jack starts gingerly opening the box, when all of a sudden he gests a surprise….

Jack:…..Just pull this little bit here and WOWEEE! A giant beanstalk jumped out of the box! And what is even more surprising is that it looks just like a tripod. I’m going to climb it right now!

Narrator: So Jack set off up the tripod, sorry, beanstalk. Eventually after what seemed like seconds of climbing he reached the top. Before him lay a cavernous room, full of mirrors and glass and tubes, like the House of Fun at the fair. But Jack had a problem.

Jack: Oh No! I’m Lost! How will I EVER find my way around in here? All this glass and mirrors, how will I know which way is to the stars? Help me!

Narr: Jack’s pleas did not fall on deaf ears. In the distance he heard the tinkling of a bicycle bell, or was it the beeping of an electronic box?

Beeping thing: BOO! Heard you call for help, I’m the one who knows everything round here, I can start you on your way!

Jack: Oh, Thanks, but who are you?

Beeping thing: My official title is Skywatcher SynScan Goto The Third, but everyone just calls me Buttons.

Narr: Jack felt he had at last found a friend. He playfully poked Buttons on his ample belly. At once there was another BEEEP and the cavernous room started to spin around. Just as suddenly the room stopped spinning. Jack made a silent promise that he would never have more than three wine guns again.

Jack: Where are we?

Buttons: You just took the first step on your ladder Jack, look out through that round window!

Narr: Jack looked out in amazement. There was nothing there. Buttons had a smug look on his face that said “Alignment successful”. Jack had a quizzical look that said “I could have been snuggled up with my cow right now, and I swapped it for THIS?”.

Jack: What’s going on? I thought this was gonna be great?

Buttons: It IS Great!! Look! It’s the Seven (Ugly) Sisters!!

Jack: What the! For a start I can only count six, and they are just stars!

Narr: In the background there was a deep and evil laugh. Jack thought his mother in law had turned up, but he swung round to see a giant with a torch shining it in everyones eyes. Jack himself was half blinded by it.

Giant Moon: MUHAHAHAHAHAHOHOHOHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAH!

Jack: Damn You! I can’t see anything! (He was exaggerating, he could see six ugly sisters).

Buttons: Oh never mind the moon, I call him ‘Karate Kid’. Its always “Wax On, Wane Off, Wax On, Wane Off!”, you just get used to it. Why dont you try somewhere different?

Narr: So Jack pressed Button’s buttons. Buttons promised him a deep sky tour. Through Jack’s mind there raced all sorts of scenarios, he was being chased by Great Bear, he was riding the wings of a flying horse, he was dodging the arrows of a mighty hunter, and was playing matador to a giant bull. Suddenly Jack was breathless…

Jack: Quick! Where’s my asthma inhaler?

Narr: Jack pressed another button, the promise of the jewels of the sky lay before him. He paused briefly to contemplate what sort of dilbert could be so unimaginative to come up with a name like “M31” for such a fantastic nebula. He decided that when Mr Whittington was deposed, and HE was mayor of Londontown that he would rename the entire Messier list with much more better names, like “The Swirling Spinning Super Smashing Star Party”, and “The Fluffy Red White & Blue Amazing Fantastic Gas Explosion”, and so on. So it was with great excitement that Jack once again approached the little round window………

Jack: OI! BUTTONS!! Now What? Where’s the amazing stuff? Where’s the colours? Where’s the galaxies?

Buttons: (Smugly again) Right there. Its right there.

Narr: But try as he might, Jack could see jack. Up above, the laughter echoed around the room again….

Moon: ITS BEHIND YOU! HO HO HO HAH AH HAH HEH!

Jack: Oh No it Isnt!

Buttons: Oh yes it is.

Narr: But Buttons was wrong. He had guided jack to a completely boring part of the sky. Of course, in the court case that followed. Buttons’ defence insisted that Jack hadn’t told him where he was properly in the first place. But now Jack was all alone, he was hungry, he was freezing, and the cavernous room was covered in dew. Jack had opened the box with a promise of magic, and had come away without even seeing a cheap conjurers trick. The moon rolled with mirth, and flashed his torch brighter still in Jacks face. Jack picked up the giant beantripod, and hauled it into the nearby stable. The stable where once he had frolicked freely with Daisy, now just accompanied by the beeping Buttons.

Jack: I’m pulling the plug on our friendship Buttons!

Buttons: Ok, but you’ll be back!!

Narr: Jack pulled the cord on Buttons, the light in his eyes dimmed, and he stopped beeping. Jack knew they hadn’t got off to the best of starts, he knew their friendship could have been so much more rewarding, If only he had taken time to get to know him properly. Slowly, Jack made his freezing way to the nearest window which showed the warmth of a firelight glow. Longingly he gazed in. Were his eyes playing tricks? There, snuggled happily by the fire was Daisy! Jack rushed inside.

Jack: Oh Daisy, Daisy, I missed you so, its so cold out there, there’s nothing to see, the moon is laughing at me, Buttons doesn’t know what he’s doing…..

Daisy: There there Jack, I’m glad you’re back. Now then, do you promise you won’t go out there again and leave me all alone? It really wasn’t worth it was it?

Jack: No, I have learnt my lesson, you won’t catch me out there again in a hurry!

Narr: And at this point I would like to tell you that they all lived happily ever after. Jack gave up on his ladder to the stars, Daisy stopped asking for handbags, the mother-in-law emigrated to Jupiter, and chocolate was prescribed as a wonder medicine and made freely available on the National Health.

I’d like to tell you that. But this very night Jack found himself watching the weather forecast. Unaware of the impact of her words, the innocent presenter simply said “and there’ll be some nice clear nights on their way.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly. In the back of his mind his dear old mother’s voice whispered to him….

Dear Old Mother: Make sure you wear clean underpants…

Narr: No no no! The other one!

Dear Old Mother: Follow your Dreams Jack! Always follow your dreams! (And dont forget to wear clean underpants!

Narr: Jack opened the door and looked up. Time to build a ladder.

The End.

Come The Revolution.....

Thu, 20 Dec 2007 04:52:41 -0500

…..I will make it compulsory to send out the instruction manuals for things before the thing itself. Maybe then the Y chromosomed population could stop dreaming of owning light-sabres for 10 mins and actually READ THE STINKIN MANUAL! DOH!

So apparently you cant just whack the doo-da onto the wotsit and hope to have the jewels of heaven revealed Tommy Cooper style. (Jus’ Like That!)

Apparently you have to unscrew the mini millenium dome, pop off the cheap plastic cap, and you reveal a secret mini-telescope. (If ever I take up mini-telescope smuggling, this is exactly how I’m gonna hide them). There’s a gadget called a Polar Scope or something. Quite appropriate given the weather. Anyways, tonight I shall try it out again. It is surprising I saw ANYTHING last night. Beginners luck I guess.

Make way for the Mounties!!

Wed, 19 Dec 2007 18:08:00 -0500

They say you always remember the first time you fell in love. I know I do. Heaven only knows who the girl was though. But those old feelings come flooding back, the increased heart rate, the gentle perspiration, the panic over whether your breath smells / feet stink / hair sticks up etc, and the desperate clenching of the butt to hold that fart captive, whilst trying to maintain a smile that looks normal. (Tip: Don’t Laugh, Sneeze, or try to cover the sound with a fake cough.)

But tonight I had a blind date!! All set up through some introduction agency called ParcelFarce or something. They called me and said they would be dropping off my date for the night, the rest was up to me.

When I got home, she was waiting for me. A tall, leggy beauty. Three legs to be precise. Sporting a pale complexion with a confident sturdiness, her one arm had plenty of muscle. I could tell she was a pro. You never know on a blind date, (and I had never seen this chick before), exactly how the stranger will look, but I was pleasantly surprised. The only thing that struck me as cheap about her was the jewellery, plasticy and nasty looking, I’m sure her perfect man would buy her a nice decent set of knobs, bells & whistles.

I had decided we would stay in, get to know each other gently, but the daft lass seemed to get confused. “Where Am I?” was all she said. I nipped out to the car to get her exact latitude/longitude from the SATNAV, (a big improvement on my previous ‘FATNAV’ system, which involved a big girl and a map). Anyway, en route to the vehicle, I just happened to glance skywards to see why it wasn’t raining, and LO! and, BEHOLD!! The clouds which had so blighted my efforts at a sun tan, had gone into hiding, making way for a lovely clear night. La Lune was playing the Dominatrix mind you, but even so, I decided to take my blind date out for a while.

(In case any of my wives are reading this, the new chick in question is actually a three legged telescope mount. She doesn’t wear shoes, doesn’t need a handbag, and will not make giggling comments to her friends as you walk by. She goes by the name of Skywatcher HEQ5 PRO (GOTO with Synscan). Yes she will be demanding some of my time, but on the bright side you will get more beauty sleep. Heaven knows you need it. Thank you my dears.)

OK, I’ll drop the metaphors and similes now. Like a hot brick. My attitude to something new is generally, “How hard can it be?”, and so I hurriedly plonked the telescope itself onto the new mount, rushed through the see-saw balancing act thing, and then dragged the ensemble outside.

Now let me tell you about wife No.1. She is a thoughtful so and so. Our dog (actually HER dog, he hates me with a passion, I fully expect to wake up with his teeth clenched on my throat one day) had taken a leak on our patio. Knowing I hate this, No.1 missus washed the patio down. With water. Just before dark. In the coldest week of the year. Now I have nothing against ice-skating, but when you are struggling under the weight of a morbidly obese partner, held aloft in your arms, the last thing you want to be doing is a triple axle with half lutz and pirouette, especially in your bed slippers. At any rate, the assembly and I somehow managed to survive this impromptu Beauty & The Beast On Ice performance, and came to rest roughly on location. Skipping the step of levelling the legs (dare not face the ice patch again) I poked the front leg labelled N roughly facing Polaris. Looked up through the finderscope, and couldn’t actually find polaris, there’s too many other stars up there, but how hard can it be right?

So it was time for the big turn on. Must be those long legs. Anyway, flicking the switch, everything I had told the Pro inside, she had remembered, except for the time. So I told her again. She told me something unintelligible about Polaris. Must be some kind of countdown before it turns into a black hole or something. Hit the enter button. Select 3-star alignment is the first option. (All this follows a warning not to look at the sun. Which would be a neat trick at 22:00 two days from the winter solstice). You have to pick a star. I thought you had to pick a PLACE, and saw “VEGAS” on the display. Anyway, it slewed around and stopped, facing roughly NW. I pressed the arrows until the brightest star in the finderscope was in the centre. Then in the eyepiece too. BLEEP! My first star. No.2 was another place, Mekong or something. Same again, BLEEP! By now I was smugly rolling, quietly chuckling to myself over all those chappies in the Star Gazers Lounge Bar who can’t get the alignment right, and here was I on my first night. For the next and final star, I chose one I knew. In fact, the ONLY one I know. Beetlejuice (much better in english, dont you think?) BEEP, BEEEP, WHIIRRRRR went the Pro, slewing all over the place. I had every confidence that she would drop straight onto Orions right shoulder.

I did find it slightly odd that the slewing kept on. In fact it kept on till the OTA was horizontal, and pointing squarely at my neighbours fence. I say fence, its a 10 foot high, electrified, guard dog patrolled galvanised steel security feature. So something strange was up. If this keeps on I will just have to read the lousy manual. Eventually, using ONE star align, I got sort of near to seeing things, got Mars nicely, M42. but that was it. Then the dew came, a brass monkey popped in shivering and asking if I knew any decent welders, and I decided it was time to blog the evenings events, and drink a healthy (?) measure of the malt whisky a grateful customer presented me with. Gonna go and read the books now, see what I did wrong, but before I do…….

…..I have to say that having that mighty scope on a mighty mount, all spinning round the sky till make me feel just a little bit like Ming the Merciless, or Darth Sidious. All that things needs is a laser beam, and the galaxy will never be the same again!! I only wish I had this when I was a teenager, I could have gotten my kid sisters dolls and threatened them with the LASER beam of death if they didn’t let on what REALLY happened with Ken & Barbie. When they refused to comply, CLICK, WHIIRRR, BLEEEP, !!!ZAP!!! frying tonight!

Good Nights.

Dr. Celestron I presume?

Thu, 13 Dec 2007 17:56:00 -0500

…So there I was, languishing at work, the mountain of paperwork crashing down on me like an angry concert pianist performing Beethoven’s fifth. When my cell-phone (I call it that because they gave it me in prison) stared flashing and beeping that a new text message had arrived. It was from No.1 wife.

“SCP HR”

Which I took to mean that Scamp our dog has rabies. But it seems I have nothing to worry about, the frothing at the mouth was caused by No.2 Son putting Fairy Liquid in his drinking bowl. What the MSG (see what I did there?) REALLY said was………..

“YOUR NEW TELESCOPE HAS ARRIVED!! COME HOME IMMEDIATELY AND MAKE PASSIONATE LOVE TO ME!!”

To be honest, I made the last bit up. BUT! The new scope did arrive, and left me aching at work, eager to get home and play with my new toy. Following is a blow by blow account, it may prove useful to anyone ordering from First Light Optics or similar.

1) Ordered telescope and kit on tuesday afternoon. The order fell into three categories;

a) Optical Tube Assembly itself (That’s the telescope bit)

b) The mount for it (That’s a tripod like thing which holds the OTA steady)

c) Some extra eyepieces, filters, camera adapters, and anti-dew accessories.

The OTA arrived today, precisely 48 hours after ordering, by courier. The package was well wrapped, shipped straight from David Hinds, and the box hadn’t been crashed about. Everything was there and in good condition, the only exception to this was the Celestron CD which was not in the box, not sure if that is useful or not?

2) The OTA is packed all around with expanded foam in a paper wrap. I lift the top piece for the first time. I don’t really know what I was expecting, but the sheer size of the thing surprised me. I knew this thing would bring me closer to the moon, what I didn’t realise is that by fixing a rocket motor to one end, I could probably sit in the thing and visit the moon in person. And it’s pretty heavy. I do hope the mount is sturdy enough to hold it alright. For those that don’t know, my purchase was 100% guided by the suggestions in the Star Gazers Lounge forum. I hadn’t seen ANY of the kit in person before buying it. I’m sure Steve at FLO would have mentioned if it was a problem though?

3) I read the instruction manual. First time for everything I guess. Hope that doesn’t mean I’m turning into a woman or anything. All seems pretty simple. You screw in the back of the OTA an adapter they call the ‘Visual Back’, which I think is just what you need to use the telescope for looking through (as opposed to taking photos through). Into that you pop the ‘Star Diagonal’, which is like a mini-periscope without the submarine and torpedos. The great thing about this is that it flips your upside down back to front image over, so that at least it is only back to front. Into that then goes the eyepiece of choice. Of course my choice was severely limited by the fact that I only had one to choose from, so I popped that into the top. The supplied eye piece is a 25mm plossl. That word just looks, and sounds wrong. Plossl. Like something you would say after having all four sides of your mouth anaethetised at the dentists. After this you fit the ‘finderscope’, which is a small (looks like a toy) scope which rides on the top, and apparently makes it easier to find the stars you are looking for. This needs setting up properly in the daytime, but it was also the point where unknown terms fogged up my understanding of the process. Something about fitting it with the RA and DEC in the right places. I have no idea what that means, and no explanation is offered in the 6 page manual. The finderscope has a crosshair. I guess that is fitted in case you decide to turn your telescope into a high power LASER focusing device, and use it to target misunderstood minorities, like people who say they are “Normal”. Yeah right.

As a side note, I found the rubber ‘O’ ring a trifle hard (NB: For more information on hard trifles please apply in person to my wife, her custard and jelly surprise bent my gold teeth…), to get into the rear supporting ring as the manual described. But I found that by loosening the eyepiece end of the finderscope a little, the O ring dropped into the newly created groove, and then if you put it back into the supporting ring and re-tighten the scope back together, the O ring is pushed out of the groove and neatly into place.

4) And that was it. A scope without a mount. Sat there like a gun-toting homocidal maniac with no enemies. Like a Ferrari on a race track starting line without the ignition key. Like an Olympic athlete without his steroids. Damn shame too, it was still clear when I got home, Mars was flying high, and the moon was low in the west. M45 Pleiades was carving its way up the sky too. And to make it worse, the next few nights are gonna be cloudy. But all I could do was sit there and polish my impotent monster. (Telescope).

5) No, cant resist it! I mean, how hard can it be to fashion a simple mount right? and with Mars so hunky in the east, surely I could have a quick gawp at him? Grabbing the mat from by the back door, I plonked that on the hot tub cover, to prevent my ‘mount’ slipping off, as it was covered in ice. The packing foam from the box became the mount. Aiming at the patch of sky where Mars was lurking, I peered into the eyepiece for the first time. Nothing there. Twiddled the focusing nob for quite a while, then a few little stars popped into view. Da DAAAAAHH!

But I was surprised. Surprised at what you could see, loads of stars that just aint there with the naked eye, and surprised at what you couldn’t see. Like Mars. Where the hell was it? I moved that thing up and down and round and round and up and down and etc etc etc. No sign. Out of exasperation I decided to fit the focal reducer, which gives you a wider field of view (see more sky). That done, fumblingly in the dark, I found what I thought was Mars. To be honest I dont know, it just looked like a star. But it was bright enough. Whipped the focal reducer off, and tried again. No Mars. I tried and tried and tried for half an hour, and eventually, Hooray! there was Mars!! A little disc about 3mm in diameter I suppose. I called the wife to see. Wife skidded on the hot tub icy cover, nudged the mount, and Mars was away again.

At this point I did consider smashing out the front end of the OTA and using it as the world’s most expensive litter bin, but managed to rally my nerves and popped the whole assembly back in the box. Took about 5 mins to dismantle. Gonna wait till the real mount comes before trying again, it can’t be healthy to get that violent towards inanimate objects!

Oh! I also purchased Noel Carboni’s Astro Tools through Paypal. Cost ten english quid. Just need to get Photoshop now!! In the meantime, here’s a shot I took of the ISS passing overhead. In the upper left is Perseus doing his merry jig with Comet 17P Holmes, and also a lucky snap with Polaris in the middle. Hopefully these will get better……..time will tell.

http://www.btinternet.com/~mr.squeegee/Astro/HolmesandISS.JPG

http://www.btinternet.com/~mr.squeegee/Astro/IMG_0309a.JPG

Results just in....

Tue, 11 Dec 2007 17:06:00 -0500

Another clear night. But what to do? I have in the post a Schmidt-Cassegrain Optical tube assembly, and I have in the house the Toys R Us Special. Also have the Canon 400D digital SLR camera and a tripod for it. It is time for an experiment!

I have always been fond of empirical research, ever since finding out that ‘Empiricism’ is not the pursuit of a galaxy ruled by Sith Lords who can shoot lightning from their fingertips, (be careful picking your nose), but rather the process of establishing accurate data through repeatable experimentation.

So tonight the mood was perfect for establishing, once and for all, which is the best way to view the skies with the naked eye.

In the blue corner we have the time honoured tradition of donning 47 layers of vests, jumpers, and the wife’s thick tights, and lying frozen on the floor, with tears forming icicles on your cheeks, whilst your fingers and toes lose all blood supply and are at very real risk of shattering if oyu knock them against anything.

Vying for the crown of “Best Way to Gawp at the Sky” in the red corner, we find the newcomer. This method involves the naked eye being brought into balance with a naked everything. Everything except the Naked Chef. Jamie Oliver puts me off my dinner. In fact, I think I’d rather shove my head in a wasps nest than have him on my telly. Besides, it can’t be hygienic. Obviously you cant go about lying naked on the floor in the winter, hypothermia would get you long before the rats, so I suggest immersing oneself in warm water. At the budget end of the scale, this can be acheived with an old tin bath and a willing assistant with a kettle of boiling water every 10 minutes. In the absence of a willing assistant, try lighting a small fire underneath the tub. I personally recommend spending just a few pounds more, and installing something a little more permanent. I favour the Sundance range of star gazing accessories, more information can be found on their website http://www.sundancespas.com/

The model I chose for this experiment has a seat facing every direction, and ample storage slots for that most vital element of the experiment, a large Bacardi & Coke.

The Results: Method one was found to offer a clearer view of the night sky, as method two produced localised patchy cloud cover. Method one was found to offer considerably less chance of drowning than Method two. Method one does not allow for testing of one’s spouse/partner’s lifeguarding technique. For instance, it is well known that lying on your back freezing on the ground can cause hypothermia, and that lying on your back boiling in 38 degree water can cause hyPERthermia. (That might be the other way round, what matters is, they both shouldn’t be on your “Do Before I Die” list, unless you wanna speed up the process that is). So, not wishing to spend the whole night passed out and slowly poaching (like an egg, not like somebody stealing salmon), I employed the services of my non-experimenting other half. Actually, pound for pound, she’s more like my other two thirds. The instruction seemed simple enough, “Dont let me drown.”

I suppose strictly speaking, she DID carry that task out, as here I am to tell the tale, but let me tell you that when I was testing out the service, i.e. lying floating face down, the rescue was a long time coming. In fact i’m not sure she even noticed until I turned up the ham and started thrashing around, throwing the rubber ducks at the window.

At the end of the day, all things considered, I’d have to recommend method two as the modus operandi most likely to yield the most satisfying results. You may even see a few stars.

Forsooth & Gadzooks!

Tue, 11 Dec 2007 07:35:32 -0500

‘Tis done fair gentlefolk of Internet Village! Verily is an ample chest of golden sovereigns winding its merry way to the Wise Man of Exeter. The Old Nag express should be delivering the various bits over the next few days…….

It’s time to play with the big boys!!

Unbelievable!!

Mon, 10 Dec 2007 19:28:00 -0500

How often does a guy get it SO right, that it feels like it should be wrong?

Hows about this for a list of rights!!

1) Bought New £14.99 Telescope for No.1 Son - RIGHT!!

2) Performed reverse Apache raindance all sunday night - RIGHT!!

3) Waited up freezing cold with crystal clear skies for Saturn - RIGHT!!

4) Took a gamble and woke up No.1 Wife to see Saturn - RIGHT!!

Now, I don’t use expletives where possible. People are always using them to me or about me, and any additional ones would merely complicate matters. But if I DID, then I guess I would be expleting vigorously. The fact is, YES, you CAN see Saturn’s rings with a £14.99 telescope from Toys R Us. I found Saturn simply with the 18x eyepiece, and then zoomed in with the 90x. I near wet meself. Caught up in the madness of the moment, I rushed into the master bedroom, and started to rouse my wife. Now, those of you who know my wife, will also know that we have an unwritten law in our house. Generally, it would be wiser to shave the eyebrows off a grizzly bear using a cheese grater than wake up my missus. The law states that there can only ever be two good reasons for waking the slumbering dragon.

1) You have discovered the house is on fire.

2) You have cooked a sticky toffee pudding.

In the case of the house being set on fire as a direct result of cooking the sticky toffee pudding, then two positives make a negative and the dragon should be left a-slumbering.

Anyway, it was done now. “You HAVE to see this!!” I screamed. “Have you called the fire brigade?” she sleepily replied, the vast array of curlers making her head look like an explosion in a plastic pipe factory.

So down she trundles to the telescope. It all hinged on the next 3 seconds. If she didn’t like what she saw, I’d be eating Paraquat sandwiches all week. But NO!, it was all worth it! No.1 Wife came out with the most remarkable responses, the like of which I hadn’t heard since our wedding night.

“WOW!”, “Im quite impressed”, “That’s really good”, and “Can I have another look?”

!!!!!!! And then to top it all, this … “Can’t you take a picture?”

That’s all the encouragement I need. “But YOU were the one who said “Buy a telescope that takes pictures!”“. At last I can justify spending a little more than £14.99 on some kit now, knowing I have the wife’s blessing.

To sum up, an excellent night, no moon, clear skies, and the firm start to what should be a fascinating hobby. No.1 Wife is already eager to see Saturn again, through a bigger and better scope. The cretin card arrives tommorrow, all being well I wil be calling Steve @ First Light Optics to confirm and pay for my order. I might even call my next child ‘Cassini’. Watch this space…….

Just waiting for that glimpse....

Mon, 10 Dec 2007 18:10:57 -0500

…of Saturns rings. She’ll be along in an hour or so.

It seems that No.1 Wife (which is not in the strictest sense the same as No.1 Choice),(Oh boy! Now I’m gonna pay) has taken exception to my statement that she is hard to impress.

I heard her on the phone to her mother complaining bitterly, ”It’s hard to be impressed by Orion, when you are married to Adonis.” At least that’s what she was attempting to say. Her lips must have been affected by the cold because it kind of sounded like “He’s doin’ my head in!”. This was accompanied at the other end of the line by Jabba’s sympathetic “Told you he was no good, didn’t I tell you, there there come home to mama”, and I could have sworn in the background there was the sound of knives being sharpened.

But I shouldn’t be unkind to the mother-in-law, after all she works very hard. They got her a job at British Airways, kick-starting jumbo jets. As soon as she arrives on my doorstep, the door is opened to her. (Leave her there too long and the paint starts to peel).

Right, it is now just after midnight. Saturn has popped her chops over the garden fence and cleared the atmospheric haze. It is time to test the truth of the manual, and discover once and for all if you CAN see Saturns rings for £14.99. So here we go.

Safety notice. If I haven’t posted after this for two days, please call an ambulance, and tell them to bring a hypothermia blanket, there’s a layer of ice on my viewing table/tub cover, I can well see me getting stuck fast to it……