[meteorite-list] OT; happy fathers day to all you dads!

From: MexicoDoug_at_aol.com <MexicoDoug_at_meteoritecentral.com>
Date: Sun Jun 19 04:37:18 2005
Message-ID: <1fd.3f0be2c.2fe688b9_at_aol.com>

Tom K. wrote:

>Hey List, I just wanted to wish all the dads a happy fathers day!
>I heard a funny fathers day thing today;

>"All dads want for fathers day is some time alone with your mom,
>so get the heck out of the house and let daddy have the kind of
>fun he had with mommy before you came along and ruined everything!"

Tom, the way you put it - I know my Dad would want me to be the one left IN
THE HOUSE, and that He would take His ballerina to do the things they enjoyed
most, while humming the Barcarolle or another favorite under clear skys with
his handsome telescope with that eerie purple sheen, perfectly aligned on
"star-drive" with time to kill...
 
        * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Doug, get your *ss over here kiddo!!, You're not gonna believe this!!"
 
Nearly thirty-three years ago, and I remember it better than this morning...
 
"A BOLIDE!!! He actually got a BOLIDE! We were just there in the Tetons,
and this photographer catches a fantastic fireball in his exposure! What a
lucky b*stard!"
 
Dad is possessed, shouting excitedly returning from the mailbox, madly
waving the latest issue of Sky & Tel like it was HIS winning lottery ticket!
 
"Is everything OK Walt?" Mom doesn't seem to be too concerned knowing Dad...
 
"Doug, look at this fireball! It'll knock you off your chair!" When will I
see a bolide? After all those nights we go into the mosquito infested
swamps to photograph meteors! And this fellow gets it right over the Grand
Tetons!"
 
"But Dad, that doesn't look like a fireball - Isn't it daytime?", I was a
little perplexed since the photo looked like a nice day besides the smoking
streak which destroyed the tranquility of the scene.
 
"Doug, this isn't a regular fireball like some of the small ones we've
seen." (I still hadn't ever seen what I considered a fireball, which already had a
mystic significance around the household, but I was ashamed to admit that,
and had seen many meteors during our trips to the dark).
 
"Yeah, Dad it doesn't look like any of the fireballs I ever saw..."
 
"Doug, this is what's called a bolide. Bolides are fireballs that can be so
big that they're sometimes brighter than a full Moon, and you can see them
when the Sun is shining. They leave trains of smoke and if you are lucky
you'll see them exploding as they rumble by."
 
"A Bowloid? what?..."
 
"Bolide Doug, get it straight - I'd give my right arm to photograph just one
bolide in my life. Doug, you haven't lived until you see a BOLIDE. We'll
keep watching - we'll see one, don't worry! Oh, if I could only have one of
these bolides rip through the sky with my camera..."
 
"B-o-l-i-d-e..."
 
Dad continued to devour his S&T and contageously was heard mumbling the word
"bolide" all evening. I was a little confused because I knew I was just a
kid, but I thought I had been living long enough. Still, I had never seen a
BOLIDE, which now took the principal seat in the Mt. Olympus in my mind's eye.
 I was very excited because I now thought we would see a bolide sometime
soon...even though I had yet to completely digest the fact that a meteor which I
always associated with dark nights, could be seen blowing-up enroute during
the day.
 
Shortly thereafter, we left yet another time for a trip to the dark
swampland 70 odd-miles away. I did my job carrying one tripod for Dad's equipment,
and then we arrived at a place he fancied, and Dad began his meticulous setup
of the ungainly big camera mounted on his eerily glistening purple telescope,
which had to be the world's best as far as I could imagine. I was curious
as much as impressed that when Dad magically manipulated his equipment, this
would cancel out the star trails that all the other cameras he also set up
would record. I faithfully did the rest of my chores - mainly to keep out of
the way and to be handy with the mosquito repellent, and watch...and watch....
keeping a vigilent eye for heavenly visitors. Another night and 15-20 faint
streaks later the excitment was even greater. But no BOLIDES yet...
 
It's wonderful that Dad left a place of our very own to meet whenever we
want, in the skies. And you can count on me Dad, I'll be there with you. Maybe
tomorrow, we'll finally get to live this time, maybe we'll see a BOLIDE...
 
I'd give everything I ever had to spend another sulty-warm night there with
you and the mosquitos, Dad, or for just another moment together...
 
Love, Doug
Received on Sun 19 Jun 2005 04:37:13 AM PDT