Part II: The Waiting

Auditions are finished!

Wolfgang Amadeus Marshmallow has completed the audition portion of this college odyssey. He seemed to keep my words of wisdom ("Please dont suck!") foremost in his mind during this process, which served him well. At this point, we have three acceptances out of four auditions, with the last one, Ithaca College, pending adjudication. We will hear from them in mid-March.

Now, we wait. I didn't get good marks in waiting. Neither did Wolfgang or his mother. I anticipate much suckiness and attempts at making the calendar turn pages via psychokinesis over the next several weeks.

This is Wolfgang waiting:


He's the tall one in the middle of the photo. I don't know who that woman is next to him, but she tried to make small talk during the time we had to wait for the audition. It was kind of her but frankly it was annoying. We don't like small talk at these times. We don't like it any time really, but especially at these times. We like to wait in silence, like this:




Ok, we text or read. But we don't talk! We meditate quietly.

But now we have to wait for a whole month! I can't not talk talk for a whole month. That means that you, who are reading this, must suffer with the blogging equivalent of small talk. Ha! I'm so hypocritical!

Maybe I'll post a link to a few minutes video of a performance, just to really test your devotion to this blog. Nah! Too much to ask. And too much work on my part to do it using this iPad. That's true laziness, folks. I hope you appreciate it.

Over this coming month we'll have to run various scenarios through our heads so that when this last acceptance or rejection comes through we are ready to go. Ithaca as a little fish in a biggish pond? Shenandoah as a big fish in a puddle? University of Maryland as a minnow in the ocean? Or somewhere else?

The updates will come, in the form of fantastic proclamations with lots of exclamation points. Maybe a hyphen or two. Keep your eyes peeled.



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Three Down, One To Go

The noose is closing tighter.

No, not the way I wanted to start this.

It was a dark and stormy night...

Nope. No good either.

Ok, we'll go with this: you insert your own cliché here__________________________________.

Now we can get started. The ongoing saga of Wolfgang Amadeus Marshmallow's college auditions continues with some very good news all 'round. He's three for three with school acceptances from auditions. Here is one of them:

Even better is that one school in particular, Shenandoah, was so impressed, they have asked him if he wouldn't mind coming back there this Monday to play for their Artist in Residence, John O'Conor.

I think he wouldn't mind. Therefore, we are off Monday to go see the man, himself. Excited much?

We are still in the process of learning which schools might offer scholarship money and which ones can piss off might not offer so much. Two of Wolfgang's older siblings, Frank Lloyd Marshmallow and Pablo Marshmallow, have pulled most of the leaves off the Marshmallow Money Tree in our backyard. Frank Lloyd is currently in Rome, doing his best imitation of a Gaul. I expect a telegram any moment from the Italian government, thanking me on the one hand for single-handedly rebuilding their economy by propping up their wine market, and also asking me when the sacking will be over.

So it's enthralling times ahead. I'll be sure to take my meds and keep you posted.

A Tribute To Dick Tufeld

Had I known that I was going to be honored with the Versatile Blogger Award by Mrs. Tuna, I would have prepared something more upbeat. As it is, this will be a tribute to a legend of the small screen. 

If you were paying extra close attention to news coming out of La La Land this past week, you would have read this article about the death of character actor and voiceover artist, Dick Tufeld. For those of us of a certain age, he will be remembered as the voice of the Robot, on Lost In Space, and from hundreds of television commercials like this one. 

Honestly, the man's voice was so ubiquitous on TV, that I can't think of a time when I didn't hear it over the past 40+ years. He stayed very active and was still voicing characters as recently as 2004. Considering he started in TV when TV was brand new, I'd say the man had a hell of a great career. I'm drinking a toast in his honor tonight. 

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And since Mrs. Tuna has bestowed the award, it is my duty to post seven interesting facts about myself for you readers. The cool part of this is that I can make up just about anything and you'd never know I was yanking your chains. But in the interest of full disclosure, propriety, and veracity, I will tell you things that are at least mostly true.

• I applied to be an astronaut while an Army Aviator. NASA probably got a good laugh out of reading my application. I never heard back from them. 
• I am afraid of gorillas. Really. Their stare scares the living shit out of me.
• I don't like heights, even though I was (and technically still am) a pilot. 
• Mrs. Marshmallow is by far...by far, better at DIY home projects than I am. It's not even a contest. She built a two-level, heavy wooden backyard play set for our sons, from scratch, while I was at work one day! It would have taken me longer to buy the materials for it! That play set is still standing, and probably will stand forever, because she over-engineered the hell out of it. I will call in a demolition team to get rid of it before we die, however.
• I love single malt Scotch Whisky, but I can no longer tolerate it because of some major abdominal surgery a couple of years back. Now I have a trove of the stuff that smells like heaven to me but makes me sick if I drink it. That's just cruel.
• I have rescued two drowning swimmers in my life.
• (breast or brains?) Yeah, I was asked that recently, by a woman. I thought it was an inappropriate question. Not because I was offended by it, but because I thought it was unfair to have to choose between the two, like they were mutually exclusive or something. Come on! And how do women get away with asking things like that? I'd get slapped if I did it (by the way, brains always, always, always win - except at the beach - sorry, but there must be some exceptions). 

Here's to you, Dick! Prost!

Big, Honkin' Boobs!

The drought is over. I've decided, as the saying goes, that if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. Today, you get boobs.

According to in-depth research I've done regarding my posts here, topics like science are boring. Not just a little bit boring, either. Skull-crushingly boring. In fact, even with help from The Bloggess (via traffic from her site to mine), my post on Centripetal Force garnered the highest ratio of page views to lack of comments I've ever received*. What does that mean? It means boring.

Therefore, you will all now be treated to Big, Honkin' Boobs. (Wait! Slow down on the clicky finger, Sparky!).

Before you click on that link (which is quite safe, I assure you) you need to know that I use the word "boobs" differently than many people. To me, a Boob is a stupid person; a fool; a dunce (as defined on Dictionary.com). Many people are boobs. Lest you think me harsh or judgmental, even I am a boob, for thinking I could post shit that was somewhat educational without it being duller than an unpolished bowling ball.

Sure, some of you commented, and for that I am pitifully grateful. Some of you actually read it, too. For that I'm not sure what I am. Some of you refrained from commenting out of the kindness of your hearts, so as not to make me look like a boob. For that, I will gladly father your children or buy you ice cream - your choice.

Have I learned my lesson regarding what to blog about? Hardly. I'm a boob. I don't learn lessons well. In fact, in all likelihood, I'm probably an evolutionary dead end**. I would self-describe as someone who acts before thinking. "The Defiant Marshmallow?" Oh yeah, he's definitely a 'Ready! Fire! Aim!' kind of guy."
You all don't know just how lucky you are the world didn't end shortly after August, 1984***.

So sit back, enjoy the boobs, and feel free to stroke my fragile ego by commenting - or not. I no longer know if it's a good thing or a bad thing.

Centripetal Force: The Real Force

This is my disclaimer:

I am not a physicist. I am not a teacher. My expertise and credentials, if one may call them that, are in Geography, Biology, and to some extent, Photography and Astronomy (I consider being an active Amateur Astronomer for over 30 years somewhat of an expertise in general astronomy).

However, I am highly motivated to share science of all types, and specifically, scientific methods, and critical thinking. This is why I like to post about science topics. I get things wrong at times, but try very hard to do my homework and to not get things wrong. I enlist the help and expertise of others to make sure I get stuff right. 

The short of it is I will share information which I find interesting and useful and hope you will enjoy and share back. 

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Last week I choked my way through a pitiful attempt of an explanation of Centrifugal Force. This week, I will put two brain cells together and try and explain Centripetal Force, or as some* have called it, Who Gives a Shit?


Easiest way I know to explain it is to go with this example:

Ball on a string.

Find a ball attached to a string. Go ahead; I'll wait. 

Got it?

Ok, now swing the ball around on the string. Faster! Faster! 

Oops. Sorry. First, call the glazer, then take the ball and string outside. 

Now swing the ball around you like a Crusader with a Ball and Chain** 

There, you've done it. You've demonstrated centripetal force. Go back inside, pop open a bottle of wine and congratulate yourself. So what did you do?

Back to Isaac Newton and his Laws of Motion. Remember the first one? An object in motion tends to stay in motion and an object at rest tends to stay at rest until acted upon by another force? Yep. That one.

The object in motion (ball) was really traveling in a straight line, or at least it would have if it weren't attached to the string. The ball was accelerating, but the string was causing it to change direction constantly, therefore, the net result was that the ball was continually being pulled toward the center, which is the end of the string in your hand. The net force was center seeking, or centripetal. 

The outward force that you felt was not centrifugal, but simply the velocity of the ball in its original path. The ball was trying to fly off in one direction. You felt the ball's mass and velocity. Test this (outside) by swinging it again and letting go of the string. 

Zing! Off it goes. This works even better if you have a kid to retrieve the ball and string each time. It's like a game of fetch, but with college credits possible.

The super-simplified explanation. Possibly. And I managed to work in the words "you felt the ball's" without being skeezy. 

Now go out there and play physics!

*Everyone I've tried to explain this to.

**An actual ball and chain. Don't go to the other place, gentlemen, or you will see a demonstration of the skillet in flight force. Which also strikes me (badoom-cha!) as sexist.

Being the nice guy I am, I'm including, at no extra charge, links to two websites that explain this correctly, with diagrams and everything.
Diagrams and equations and stuff.
Another nice site: Flash required