In Memory Of Jojo: 5 Years

It was exactly five years ago today that I drove from work home at Cara's urging to find my home - and three of those of my neighbors - smoldering in ashes. Jojo, our loverbird, perished from smoke inhalation or heat or both. Fifi made it to the basement and was rescued by the firemen. No one was home, no one was hurt, but three apartments were destroyed utterly and a fourth had major smoke and water damage, and the rest had smoke damage.

Google now has images of what the apartment looked like after the fire. The red arrow points to where I lived, the blue one to where the fire broke out.

Though we lost a lot, including the bird, we were immediately helped by coworkers and friends from all around. The Red Cross, the community, the High School, friends at IBM and abroad, and our families all chipped in to help us get back on our feet. We are still hurting a little, financially, from the damage, but we are grateful for all that we have in our friends and relations.

We miss you, Jojo. I hope I treated you well in your short time on this planet.

POST-SCRIPT:

I took the sat photo from Google, as I mentioned. Earlier today I sent the same image to one of my former neighbors in that complex but I did not trim the image as I did above. She pointed out the irony of the ads next to the picture (click on the image to see a larger version):

Westcott Beach State Park and Campbell's Point, April 2010

Lola imagines life as a gull.

The Milliman's cottage.


Campbell's point as seen from Westcott Beach.

In Memory Of Malcolm

I don't like to argue about whose cat is best - that sort of thing is a pissing contest left to those who have something to prove - but my own favorite feline familiar, Malcolm X, was among other things a six-toed terror and an astute judge of character; anyone he didn't like, I didn't much care for either. Above everything was his cool, Paul Newman-like demeanor. One day my (former) father-in-law explained that he did not want to let his Yorkshire Terrier near Malcolm for fear that the cat would be killed. "They're known for being relentless hunters and they never turn their backs on their prey," he said, authoritatively. Malcolm lay sleeping lightly in the dog's bed on the back porch, opposite from where the dog was locked away in a bathroom for safety's sake. I decided to experiment. I let the dog loose, and he tore across the porch toward Malcolm. Malcolm remained prone until the moment the dog was in reach, then sprung to like a cobra, pasted the canine upside the head with his great paw, and sank back into the dog's bed as the Yorkie ran back to his bathroom, whimpering. I shut the door to the bathroom on the fallen pooch, sat back down next to my speechless father-in-law, and said not another word about it. Not that day.

Rocketry Update

I was driving Finn home from the dentist awhile ago when I decided to stop by the grove of trees in which the rocket became ensnared, high above the ground. The winds the last few days have been very strong and I figured the nose cone, at least, was rent free from the parachute and perhaps on the ground. If I could find the tree with the day-glo parachute still in it, I could scour the ground below.

I drove up the hill and not a few feet into the woods and barely five feet off the ground was a small hawthorn tree with a piece of bright orange plastic in it. Dangling from that was the nose cone. We can fix this with a little glue and some patience.

Spring Rocketry

For his birthday we gave Finn an Estes model rocket kit. He had one last summer that was kinda lame, so I went overboard and got one with a rocket that goes to 1000 ft. or more with the proper engine.

It being a beautiful spring day, we gathered his friend and the kit into the car, and went to Beacon's Memorial Park to learn a little about Newton's laws of motion, maybe wax nostalgic about Robert Goddard and Werner von Braun.

Nah, they just wanted to hear the blast of the engine and chase after the falling rocket.

I set up for the first launch and shot it off myself to demonstrate to the boys how to use the ignition. The successful blastoff and climb was followed by the rocket falling precipitously from the sky. Why didn't the parachute work?

When I recovered it, I discovered that I had not packed enough wadding in, and the ejection stage of the rocket indeed popped off the nose cone and deployed the parachute, but the heat of the blast fused the folded plastic parachute to itself. It fell gently enough, and the rocket was ready for another flight, but I wanted to get it as right as I could.

I packed more fireproof wadding in the fuselage this time, pulled apart the parachute as best I could, and packed it back in despite a few holes and deformed patches. We were ready for a second flight, so I let the boys push the two buttons (a safety and a final switch).

Ready...

...set...
...going...
...gone.

It sailed a little off the vertical and out of sight but for the contrail. Then we saw a bright, orange parachute deploy properly, and the rocket drifted down slowly, as it was supposed to.

Except for that pesky westerly breeze. It drifted farther and father over some woods, and caught in a tree, finally.

The tree was too thin and weak to climb, so doing what I used to do as a kid, I shook it. The fuselage broke free of the shock cord and fell.

Finn's not as upset as he looks, trust me. He knows we have another rocket, and we can repair this one with a new nose cone & parachute.
I remember all of my brothers were into model rocketry when I was little. Tony, especially, organized all his equipment carefully and I remember witnessing a few launches.

Next time we either find more space, smaller engines, or a still day.

The Books Of Bokonon, 1:2-4

Man blinked. "What is the purpose of all this?" he asked politely.

"Everything must have a purpose?" asked God.

"Certainly," said man.

"Then I leave it to you to think of one for all this," said God.

And He went away.

"Fine" Means Anything But

Have you ever noticed that just about any time you use this word as an answer to a question it carries a charge of disgust?