Whoa, there's someone walking outside my window…

Members of the Flying Wallendas performed outside of the building this afternoon for a commercial for McDonalds' new coffee campaign. Eighty feet above Monroe Ave, the brother and sister team of Nik and Lijana Wallenda each started at one end of the 5/8ths-inch wide rope and met at the middle for a coffee.

We believe it was a "simulated" coffee, who needs extra caffeine while sitting on a wire 80 feet above the ground. The girl even dropped to do "the splits" in order to sit on the wire. After a few moments for a coffee break, then Nik stepped over Lijana and they both made their way to the opposite ends.

We've seen a lot of activities and things down here, but this was definitely the oddest. The fun thing was, we went up two floors to get an eye-level view of the show. You could hear the cheering from the crowd from inside the building!

See the Photos link at the right for more pix from the event. Also, the newspapers had a story on why she paused so long before coming off the rope. The crains were too tight? Naw, I don't think so, those of us there noticed that Nik's rope (that they use to haul the balance pole up and down) had fallen and she had no where to put the pole. I think that's the real story... Either way, she was stranded for quite a while up there!

Breaking News: Sorry Pluto! Only 8 Planets

Doh! Well, if you read the blog from last week, it appeared that we were going to have Twelve planets, including the gaining-in-popularity "2003 UB313". Well, today, as reported on the front page of the Detroit Free Press, just the opposite has occurred! According to the International Astronomical Union (IAU), the definition of the word "planet" now excludes those additional orbiting bodies. AND it also demotes loveable Pluto from the list! (If you can call a huge rock in space "loveable".)

The current answer to the question "How many planets are in the Solar System?" is now "Eight".

Zillions of text books need to be re-written.

Plastic Model maker companies are thrilled at the chance to sell completely new versions of the Solar System Model.

The famous (or not-so-famous) mnemonic "My Very Excellent Mother Just Served Us Nine Pizzas" now needs to be changed to "My Very Excellent Mother Just Served Us Nothing!"

Yes, cute little Pluto is no longer a planet. I'm a little bummed that it's now demoted to "a mere dwarf planet". No matter how lovable, now it will never return our calls.

(See the Space Weather link at the right for SpaceWeather, or check www.freep.com)

The Windmills, Sancho!

Part Deux:

We took a trip down Hwy 21 (along the Ontario coast of Lake Huron) in search of Don Quixote's Windmills. Several new huge windmills are dotting the fields along the coastline. Many people have argued against having these giants in the area. "They're an eye-sore!" Well, we found them just the opposite. We were curiously attracted to them. I wanted to see one up close, and attack it! Okay, "La Mancha" wasn't playing on the car stereo…but that would've been appropriate.

We turned on a side-road past Kincardine and pulled off onto the shoulder. The blades of this monster were swooping almost directly over-head. The top of the blade reaches over 100 meters high! That's more yardage than the Lions gain in a game… The box where the "fan" connects is big enough for someone to stand inside, walk around and work comfortably. (Am I getting across the impression that these are big?)

The sound was impressive too. You had to get up pretty close, but there was a definite "swooshing" sound as each blade went by.

Anyway, we then knocked on the door of the near-by nuclear facility. Okay, not really. Before we got anywhere close, we were greeted by an armed guard wearing a bullet-proof vest telling us to back away. We chatted for a minute and then backed away when she started getting an itchy trigger finger.

The rest of the trip was spent at the family Farm, visiting with Uncle Joe and Auntie Beth and a friend of theirs. It was relaxing, except for the discovery by the kids of a cat's skull. (No, not the Catskills, an actual skull.) There was some discussion of this being from a family pet, which spurred comments like, "Alas, poor Sam, I knew him Horatio!" They figured it might be from a dinosaur, but more likely the designation was "feline-domesticus". Liam found an old golf ball and I assured him it was from the same age - "Titleist-asaurus".

KONG! \'kong\ n fr : the deep resonant sound esp. of a bell

We had a wonderful whirl-wind weekend in Southern Ontario this past weekend. Our first stop was in "The Hamptons". Okay, not the Hamptons that Sinatra hung out in… But "South Hampton". A lovely little beach community on the shores of Lake Huron.

The Sis-in-Law and family was there with their good friends, the Teals. We shamefully finagled an invitation from them to join them for a day or so every time they rent the cottage. It was a lot of fun. Look for a new game to hit the shelves soon called "Gocce". Like Bocce Ball but with a twist. Jeff Teal and I won a gocce championship, coming from behind to beat Steve Lloyd and a handful of random children. (Although Mitchell Teal, eight-ish years old, won the MVP.)

We spent time swimming out to the big rocks in Lake Huron, rocks that have been given names such as "Potato" or "Anvil". I had the pleasure of naming one myself, just past Anvil rock. I named it "Ankle" rock, not because it looked like an ankle, but because I bashed my ankle into it. You could hear "kongggg!" echoing through the water.

The evening's entertainment turned to a vicious Scrabble game that lasted into the wee hours. It was "full-contact" Scrabble. My rock-bitten ankle was no match for what was to occur. The Bride had several children on her team and was about to take the lead on a triple-word score when the word "Kong" was vetoed by Steve and Mary Teal. There were many protests, including "Listen to the sound made when I smack your head!" But in the end it was stricken from the board. (And actually isn't in my dictionary.)

I was later appalled when my word "IYII", also on a triple word score, was disallowed. Iyii, of course, is a popular expression, like oy-vay. (Well, there were some drinks flowing, and at the end of the game you're always left with a boat-load of extra vowels.) There's more to tell, but that'll be in a different posting!

Stay tuned for Part Two of the weekend story…

Twelve Planets in the Solar System?!

If you checked out one of the links to the right on my blog page, you might've noticed the article about the International Astronomical Union's up-coming meeting to decide on the definition of the word "Planet"! Good heavens.

From SpaceWeather.com: "A planet is a celestial body that (a) has sufficient mass for its self-gravity to overcome rigid body forces so that it assumes a hydrostatic equilibrium (nearly round) shape, and (b) is in orbit around a star, and is neither a star nor a satellite of a planet."
On August 24th, astronomers gathered at the IAU General Assembly in Prague will vote on the proposal, yea or nay. If it passes, the Solar System will have twelve planets: Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Ceres, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, Pluto and Charon (a double planet) and 2003 UB313.


Is it just me or is "2003 UB313" not the catchy-est of names?

-- Tim

A Great Round

Last Thursday, I played one of my best rounds of golf ever. I started the round with three pars (two with realistic birdie attempts even), then two sixes… (Shh!) On one hole, I chipped the ball a foot from the pin for a par; I ended up with five pars. My buddy Clarke Scholes added up the scores as we were about to tee off on the ninth hole.

"You're at a 35, shoot a par and you break forty!" Was telling me that the "Kiss of Death"? Maybe not. I hit a nice tee-shot and then a five-wood that landed on the green.

Once again, Clarke my "buddy" (now "buddy" is in quotes) told me not to pussy-foot around… "Make it close." But then he added, "But remember it's down-hill!" I nearly dropped the putter at that point.

It was then that my mind checked in to one of those transendental states. I started hearing voices of golfers-past giving advice: "Of all the birdie putts that are left short, 100% of them don't go in." Yeah, whoa… Deep.

And then another voice: "Former groundskeeper, about to become…the Masters Champion…" I shook my head and returned to the moment.

I looked at the small ridge I had to putt over, putting for birdie, for a Tim-Record 38. I saw the 20 foot putt in front of me, curving to the left, how it would roll downhill. I was determined not to let it fly past the hole... So, I tapped it about five feet. UGH. "Well, now you've done it!" Second try, for the 39: UGH! It rimmed the cup. A three-putt on the final hole? Well, I didn’t break 40, but I shot it exactly.

On the plus-side, it was a great round for me. This marks the first time that I've shot less than my age. Now that ovbiously means that I'm getting better! Or perhaps that just means I'm getting older…

The One Ring

Okay, quick story...

I haven't been telling people 'cause I'm embarrassed. A couple weeks ago, on a weekend vacation with the Montgomerys, I lost my wedding ring to the bottom of Lake Charlevoix. *Gulp* I was just sick about it. It came off while we were swimming. It was just awful. The boat floated away and I couldn't leave the spot. We figured it was at least 30 feet deep...

Marie (The Bride) said with the current price of gold, we wouldn't be buying one in the near future. Well, I couldn't stand it. It just didn't feel right, not wearing one. So, I told her, I can't stand it, I'm going to Pat Scott's (family freinds and local jeweler) to check out rings. Well, she told me they were closed Monday and not to worry about it... Mom jumped when I told her too. "Well, Marie should be there to buy it for you..."

Last Wednesday night I found out why. Marie gave me a wallet for the B-Day. There's a tradition of putting a penny in a new wallet for luck, donchaknow. Well, I open the bag with the wallet -- which I'd already seen, actually -- I told her I'd like something to open on my B-Day. It was either Mary or Connor who said to search for the penny.

I started looking in the folds and pockets, couldn't find it. Connor took it and gave it a shake, and Marie and Mom both yelled out, "NO!", and nearly jumped across the table. I thought that was rather odd, but didn't think more of it. Then there was one section I had missed.

Inside, was a ring! But not just any ring. Dad's ring! I'm getting choked up right now thinking of it. Mom told Marie that I should have Dad's wedding ring, and not to buy another one. It's been re-sized down so Mom could wear it, but she said to take it to Pat's and have it sized up again.

And there it is, written right inside, "JMO Loves JHR 5-20-50".

ISN'T THAT COOL!?!!??! Mom is the best!

Okay, so, it wasn't a quick story...

-- Tim

Testing one...two...

Okay, this is my first posting on this blog page thingy. Perhaps at lunch I'll add more. There will be loads of humorous and exciting writing here... Umm hmm. You betcha.

-- Tim

P.S. That's the author with some silver hardware he found lying in a trashbin somewhere. After dusting it off, it appears to be very nice.

P.P.S. Hey, it's my birthday. I can be silly today.