Sunday, March 25, 2007

Where I Started

So, I'm sitting at the surplus computer desk my dad brought home from work almost 20 years ago, typing in the spot where a steady chain of computers, each progressively more powerful, has sat. The old orange monochrome monitor is long gone, and so is the old 7Mhz 8086 computer. But somehow, the 25-year-old metal power bar is still the primary supplier of surge-protection.
The clutter of 24 years of home ownership surrounds me here in my parents' basement; as my sisters and I move from place to place, our lives' shrapnel collects here against the south wall. In spots, the cardboard boxes are stacked taller than I am. Somewhere in there, my kindergarten papers are moldering. Higher up, my comic books are crying, unread. Right behind the bound editions from my years of student newspapering, in a big, long box, sits my telescope.
The telescope seems like a weird thing to be writing about. My first girlfriend bought it for me in 2002 or 2003 as an early birthday present, telling me that she knew I'd never have bought it on my own if she hadn't. She was probably right. Self-denial of extravagances (in this category, everything but food lives) is an ongoing problem/necessity for me. But she bought it, and I used it, and in 2003, Jupiter was at its closest it would ever be for the next 10,000 years. With little help, and with fantastic excitement, I saw for the first time a quartet of Roman namesakes that revolve around the ruler of the gods: Io, Europa, Ganymede, and Callisto. There were two on each side, and in the middle, almost big enough to discern stripes, was the mighty gas giant.
I'd never seen anything like this in the real world before. I'd seen it on TV, and I'd seen it at what was then the Edmonton Space Sciences Centre. But the reality of seeing it for real (lame) struck me.
I guess now you think I'll try to tie having a telescope to wanting to see THE WORLD for myself rather than on TV.
And maybe that's what's justifying this cross-country trip.
Or maybe I won't. Maybe I'll think about this more and get back to you. Oh, and for context, read this.

2 comments:

Neal Ozano said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Dave said...

Keep posting, Neal, this stuff is fantastic. Glum... but fantastsic.