Einstein was Right (again, and again?)

Back in 2005 (Christmas Eve, in fact), I posted “Einstein was right (again)”, pointing to a EurekAlert post confirming NIST and MIT had confirmed the famous mass-to-energy equation.

Now I hear a team consisting of French, German and Hungarian physicists have confirmed this (again).

Not sure who was first (but three years is a bit of a gap, to be sure).

From the more recent post:

According to the conventional model of particle physics, protons and neutrons comprise smaller particles known as quarks, which in turn are bound by gluons.

The odd thing is this: the mass of gluons is zero and the mass of quarks is only five percent. Where, therefore, is the missing 95 percent?

The answer, according to the study published in the US journal Science on Thursday, comes from the energy from the movements and interactions of quarks and gluons.

In other words, energy and mass are equivalent, as Einstein proposed in his Special Theory of Relativity in 1905.

Here are links to both posts, for those who need to confirm:

• physorg.com: “e=mc2: 103 years later, Einstein’s proven right”.
• EurekAlert: “Einstein was right (again): Experiments confirm that E= mc2”.

Of course, this only proves that a quantity of energy can be converted from a quantity of matter, and that a quantity of matter can be converted from a quantity of energy .. not that the latter has been performed.

And the Space Needle Cowered in Fear ..

.. from the onslaught of two noses.

With apologies to fellow Evangelisto, Steven Woodward .. someone caught us in a candid (and spirited) chat whilst on an offsite in August 2006. A boat was involved, but obviously not a hairdresser. I was 20 pounds heavier at that time.

Steven and I have sent out an APB for the camera-carrying offender.

Whoops .. they left me in charge

.. at Jump Planet tonight:

A Subtle Message

These appeared in my office today.

Well, actually, they appeared at the reception desk downstairs.

So, let me say: these appeared in my building today, in all their elevator-filling glory.

The black balloons are imprinted with “Over the Hill”.

The red Mylar balloons are pretty obvious.

Subtle, eh?

Artifacts of a Life

This is a reference post. I will be updating it with new artifacts and link back to it as I write more about my life this month.

Posts that reference information in this post include:

• The Tender Years: My early years.
• The Middle School Years: Grades seven and eight in Watervliet.
• Artifacts of a Life Bing Maps Collection: Locations referenced in these posts.

Other artifacts follow.

Seventh Grade Report Card (1970):

Eighth Grade Report Card (1971):

Ninth Grade Report Card for Watervliet (I left New York in early 1972):

The Middle School Years

This post follows “The Tender Years” post. Locations referenced herein can be found on my Artifacts of a Life Bing Maps Collection. Image references herein can be found in my “Artifacts of a Life” reference post.

By this time my parents had split and I was living with my father (I’m sure there’s some overlap in years here; family: please forgive any failed recollections). Mom was teaching high school in Troy and Dad continued his career as an insurance adjuster. Mom met Marvin in 1971, about the time Dad married Susan.

Oddly enough, some of my memories for this period are rather hazy: reader be warned: I’ve done a bit of editorializing here and there. During this time:

• I bowled on a league every Saturday in Menands. I still love to bowl.
• I continued my summer read of “The Lord of the Rings” trilogy at our family cabin in Lake George. I’ve read it every summer since age 10.
• I rode my bicycle to bowling and everywhere else, even as far away as Schenectady, where my step-grandparents lived.

I spent seventh, eighth and half of ninth grade at Watervliet High School; in the same building my mom and dad attended twenty years prior (yes: I was “early”). As the town was small, there was only one building for grades 7-12. The school mascot was the Cannoneer .. I’m presuming because of the Watervliet Arsenal.

Due to the number of students for the size of the building, the school had converted much of the basement level into classrooms. Asbestos-wrapped pipes were everywhere, as were nooks and crannies to deliver (or take) a beating. The clock system was Simplex, a Master Clock system (where all clocks were controlled centrally and “chunked” one minute at a time in unison).

Our cafeteria didn’t suck (although it was expected and quite proper to say so); meals were $0.35 in 1970 and jumped an incredible 28% (to $0.45) the in 1971.

I discovered my father sent me my report cards for these years some time ago. I’ve shared these in my “Artifacts of a Life” reference post. I’ll be updating that post as I uncover more artifacts. Given enough time and information, I may eventually have memoirs.

Seventh Grade
My seventh grade classes were split into four classrooms by grade point achievement from primary school: 7A, 7B, 7C and 7D. I was in 7D (yeah: I was with the smart kids). I sat behind Kimberly Chiera (we were seated in alphabetical order); I don’t recall who sat behind me. A few years ago, I spotted Kimberly on Classmates.com (I have a gold membership there for some reason). The 7D homeroom was on the main floor of the building; most of my classes were in the basement.

In 1970, my seventh grade classes were:

• Citizen Education
• Math (pre-Algebra)
• Language Arts
• Science
• Art / Metal Shop
• PE

My seventh grade report card shows okay grades with an overall average of 86. You’ll also see several ‘U’ references in the effort column (that would be for “unsatisfactory”). By then, I didn’t care for school. Some random thoughts:

• I wore a pair of black socks to my first PE class, having forgotten my white pair. This created a specter that haunted me for the 2-1/2 years I went to this school.
• I was articulate and soft-spoken, which fueled these flames (except with the teachers, of course).
• I was shy during this period of time (still am)
• I preferred Metal Shop to Art (there was a requirement for both that year). My art performance is forgettable, but I made a horrible ashtray (both my parents smoked at the time) and a hideous lamp base on the lathe in Metal Shop.

Eighth Grade:
My eighth grade class was also split into four classrooms; I was in 8D. I don’t recall if we sat in alphabetical order or not.

In 1971, my Eighth Grade classes were:

• Social Studies
• English
• Math
• Language Arts
• Science
• Art
• Math (3rd)

Note the two Math classes on my eighth grade report card. At the time, New York State had a Regents Exam for Math, English, Social Studies and Science. The exam is a state-administered proficiency test for grades 9 through 12 and was offered at the end of each semester. For me, the exam represented the means to get rid of my math requirements for the year simply by taking a test.

My math teacher (whose name I forget) introduced me to the ninth grade math teacher, John Tarmey. Mr. Tarmey gave me permission (and then wrangled with the school office) to sit for the Ninth Grade Regents Exam for Mathematics (Algebra) at the end of my Eighth Grade year; the “Math 3rd Period” (lower right) was his Algebra class (I dropped Art to do this). That grade is interesting: I didn’t do well in the class, but passed the exam with a score of 90, which became my grade.

I had an overall average of 79, before the Regents grade. With the Regents grade, my average was 81. Oh yeah: several ‘U’ references .. I still didn’t care for school. Some random thoughts:

• My science teacher and I shared a common interest in psychic abilities. Sadly, I didn’t test well (save for in my own mind .. pun intended).
• I ducked out of a number of Language Arts classes to help in the school bookstore. I didn’t care for my teacher (Mr. Noonan), and the feelings were quite mutual. He was the son of a local dentist; my father thought very highly of him .. I’d lose any arguments where he was involved.
• I read “Romeo and Juliet” that year, after seeing “West Side Story”. I followed with “The Merchant of Venice”. I try to go to Bard on the Beach in Vancouver BC as often as I can.
• I played the clarinet for a very brief time during these two years, but do not remember any other details.

More to come in the High School Years post.

The Tender Years

I spent my tender years on the East Coast.

• My youngest memory of my neighborhood in which I lived is a long hill, that I think I rode my tricycle upon.
• My next youngest memory is when I was four years old, when I cracked my head on my maternal grandmother’s buffet (I was running through the house at the time). I am told I had three stitches, and that there was blood everywhere, but I happily don’t recall the aftermath .. just the running and hitting part.
• I am told that when I was three years old, my maternal grandfather disassembled a duck rocker (presumably for moving) and that I raised holy hell. I don’t recall this, but I do recall the rocker.

I grew up in Watervliet (which translates to “Water Wall” in Dutch), New York, a small town (1.1 square miles at the time), just six miles north of Albany. The only reason it’s on the map is because of The Watervliet Arsenal, which was founded in 1813 to manufacture munitions for the War of 1812. My family lived in an apartment on the second level of a building a little over a block away from PS #1, where I attended school.

• I remember practicing pronouncing the word “ridiculous” at the top of the stairs every morning before going to school. I did this for a few weeks, until I finally got it right.
• The people below us were always cooking cabbage .. or it smelled like it.
• My best friend Arthur, lived two doors down, in a single-family house.
• There was a park two blocks down where all the bad kids hung out. It was full of broken glass and cigarette butts.

My primary school was a brick building with high ceilings and tall windows. It had wooden floors and real chalkboards.

• I do not remember my kindergarten teacher’s name, but I do remember her putting me in the corner as punishment for tossing a shoelace tip (the little plastic thingy) at her leg during reading time. I’m still amazed I hit her, that she felt it and that it was me who got caught.
• I remember nap time in Kindergarten. We had mats.
• I remember being sent home at noon the day JFK was shot. I was five.
• I remember that the day it was finally my turn to play with the shoebox-sized blocks during playtime in kindergarten. Unfortunately, we were sent home after lunch because of snow. I never got to play with the damn things .. I think I’ll go buy some.
• My first grade teacher was my great Aunt Marion. She never showed me any favoritism and made me read advanced books. She retired after my sister had her for her first grade, three years later.
• I remember being dubbed “the smartest boy in the class”; Debra was the “smartest girl in the class”, and I adored her.
• I gave Debra a bunch of my maternal grandmother’s antique jewelry to express my adoration; my mom went with me to collect it.
• I went to my maternal grandmother’s for lunch every day as Mom was attending school for her teaching degree. Grandmother lived on Sixth Avenue, and Second Street which was a pleasant walk.
• In fifth grade, I met the love of my life (for fifth grade). I walked her home from school, carrying her books. Her name was Cathy. I was totally lovestruck (compound adjective, for you grammarians). She lived in a walk-up on Third Avenue, quite out of my way, but it was worth it. I never kissed her.

We bought our house on Seventh Avenue and Seventh Street in Watervliet around the time I was in First Grade (my mom may correct me on this), but I recall my sister (Virginia, now Gini) and myself being the kids who lived the second-farthest away from the school .. just inside the school bus zone line, hence, we walked.

• My room was upstairs, painted a medium blue and faced north. It was heated by a radiator that went bump in the night when it needed air to be bled from the system (being the topmost radiator in the house, the air naturally found its way to me).
• I pretended the oil furnace was a nuclear reactor and the house a space ship.
• I had my own desk that I converted to a space ship control panel, a-la Sulu and Chekov.
• As I got older, I built a train set on a 4×8-foot board in the basement, using telephone wire scavenged from a dumpster.
• I was the first caller to WPTR 1540, winning seven albums. Dad went to pick them up; the most interesting of which was “Savage Rose – Refugee” .. the rest were crap; promotional albums.
• I have the original “A Hard Day’s Night” album, unhappily not in mint condition.
• I rode my bicycle everywhere.
• In the winter, we’d sled down the hill next to the house.
• As there was lots of snow, I’d go door-to-door, shoveling walks.
• When there wasn’t any snow, I made and sold potholders door-to-door.

My paternal grandparents (Papa and Grammie) lived in a house on the way to school.

• The house was divided into three apartments; Papa and Grammie lived on the first floor, my great Aunt Marian (my first grade teacher) lived with Aunt Mabel on the second floor and another aunt lived in the attic space.
• Papa had a shop in the basement and always had nuts that I’d crack with a workbench vise and eat.
• He also had a reel-to-reel tape recorder (about the size of an Osborne). He kept tapes of the kids growing up, to which we’d listen on rare occasions.
• They had their own chairs, with a shared table in between, facing the TV. They’d keep books and coffee cups on the table. They replicated this setup sans the TV in their summer cottage at Lake George.
• Papa smoked a pipe; Grammie was hard of hearing and needed an earpiece to hear the TV.
• Papa’s funeral was the first I’d ever attended.

I was 10 around the time Mom received her degree and started teaching. She and I spent two summers at the Winter Harbor Reading School (now long gone; the link is to the general region), a summer school for well-to-do high school kids. For me, it was all advanced placement and gave me a good head start: it was here I first read “The Hobbit” and “The Lord of the Rings”. I also took my first Algebra lessons, speed-reading tests, tennis lessons and fished for mackerel.

My folks split around the time I turned 12. This represented a milestone in my life and a logical place to end this post. More to come in “The Middle School Years” post.

"You link to yourself a lot, don’t you?"

Yes, yes I do.

The title of this post is from a comment on a post where I linked to other posts I’d written as a means to give history and support an argument.

I didn’t do it out of vanity or pride. I didn’t do it to increase hits on those articles. Even if all fifteen of you re-read those articles, there’d be no gain.

I did it because there was no reason to create a long, long post providing all the background for readers who weren’t aware of the landscape. Doing so creates an "I told you that story to tell you this one" scenario, and it loses the interest of readers.

When one achieves a body of work, there’s no logic in ignoring that history; why explain the same points over and over, when you can cite a reference instead?

• The answer: self-reference.
• The other (hidden, but should be recognized) answer: admit when you’re wrong.
• The other other answer: don’t crow when you’re right .. just cite.

So, yes: I link to myself a lot. I really do.

LOTR: 30 Minutes of Names

Having just finished the extended editions, I report:

• Twenty minutes of credits at the end of the “Fellowship of the Ring” (the first movie in Peter Jackson’s “Lord of the Rings” trilogy). Ten of these minutes looks to be names .. Lots and lots of names.
• Ditto on “The Two Towers” (the second film in the trilogy).
• Ditto ditto for the “Return of the King” (the third film in the trilogy).

.. all these names? They are the Charter Members of the Lord of the Rings Official Fan Club. I did not check to see if the names were duplicated across films. Even I’m not that desperate to find something to do.

I also didn’t provide a URL for the club because I found more than one "Official" LOTR club. Will the real club please stand up?

I’m a fan too .. although not of the films. I’ve read the trilogy every summer since age 10. That’s 40 times, once I finish my current foray into the saga .. Summer is waning. I need to hurry up!

My office phone just died ..

.. I’m thinking of loneliness.

I don’t spend a lot of time here, and I think it misses me.

Picking up the handset awakens the display .. just for a moment.

.. as if in the hopes that I might put it to use.

After hanging up, it goes back into a dim-screened funk after a few seconds.

R.I.P., poor phone.