Field Notes

Be sure to check out my Podcast on todays 365 Days of Astronomy.

Be sure to check out the 07/10 pod-cast for 365 Days of Astronomy.  It is dedicated to my best friend Jeff Medkeff, aka The Blue Collar Scientist who passed away last August.

Do me a favor.  The next time someone take time to teach you something, be sure to show your gratitude.  My family and I all miss Jeff very deeply.  I am glad I had every minute I did with him.

As always Jeff, thanks for your teachings, your friendship, your caring and for being there when I need an ear.

So my uber scientist Alex (9) is REALLY into genetics and DNA.  For his independant study research project he buit this very cool DNA double helix.  Its even the correct ratio for the twist.  Thank you to Eric Harshbarger for the helpful guidance.

Lego DNA Helix

Pleiades

I recently had a unique experience, perhaps even an epiphany.  Over the long Labor Day weekend, my family and I traveled to the Pocono Mountains in Pennsylvania.  While there, I had the opportunity to reconnect with the night sky through my daughter’s eyes.  As many amateur astronomers know, the recent weather in the mid-Atlantic has been fabulous for observing; clear and cool with great transparency.

On one cool evening, my in-laws stoked up the outdoor fireplace and we all gathered around to enjoy the evening and the night sky.  With the exception of the firelight, there were almost no other lights in the adjacent homes.  The Milky Way was so bright you could almost reach up and touch it.  We all chatted and enjoyed the night sky.  What made my experience different?  In my lap sat my 3 1/2 year old daughter, Ellie.  Although born with Down’s Syndrome, Ellie was able connect with the night sky as well as any of us.  As Ellie laid in my arms, she continued to look up at the night sky with eyes wide like a Japanese animae character.  As she did this, the largest, brightest and most joyful smile crossed her face and she repeated the sign for stars.  Ellie is currently non-verbal, which means she does not speak yet.  We are fortunate that she has done wonderfully learning American Sign Language.

As we stared at the night sky together, Ellie would point and frequently reach up as though trying to touch the stars.  I sang her favorite lullaby, “Twinkle, twinkle little star.”  Hey, I’m and amateur astronomer, of course I taught her that lullaby.  As the evening continued, I realized that the sky was no longer Messier objects, stars, constellations, or planets, it had become art and connection.  Despite the fact that Ellie did not know anything technical about the sky and that our communication was limited to signing stars, we shared a definite connection.

That night, I saw the night sky in a way we should never forget, beauty, wonderment, and awe.  Soon, Ellie drifted off to sleep in the cool air, nestled in Daddy’s arms.  As I experienced this utter tranquility, I had to ask myself who was more at peace, her or me.  What thoughts and ideas went through her little mind as she took in the the beauty of the night sky?  Did she see the joy and peace on my face as I had seen on hers?

Whether you are an astronomer, or not, I strongly encourage you to seek out this feeling.  The next clear, cool night, step outside with your kids.  Leave the optics, charts and knowledge behind.  Bring only child like wonderment.  Perhaps the night sky will bring you joy, peace, romance, tranquilityor calm.  The experience provided me with a new view of the night and a new view for the next day and all the rest to follow.

My best friend passed away Sunday August 3rd.  Jeff Medkeff was an amazing person.  A scientist.  A critical thinker.  A skeptic.  An astronomer.  But most of all he was a self-less friend.

I first met Jeff in the spring of 2004 at an astronomy day event in downtown Anchorage, AK.  Jeff and I became instant and the best of friends.

Many people in the astronomical arena, both professional and amateur, know Jeff.  If they did not know him personally, they knew of him.  Jeff was a contributing editor to Astronomy and Sky and Telescope magazines.  During his 40 years of life he owned a computer company and a robotic observatory company.  Jeff’s numerous contributions to astronomy are cataloged in the 100s of asteroids he and amateur astronomer Dave Healy discovered, the countless people whose lives he has enriched through his public outreach on astronomy and science.  Jeff was the consummate writer.  Articulate, funny, and able to cut to the chase and find humor in absurdity.  My personal favorite is when he would point out the GIGANTIC holes in creation science, noting that belief in creation is not science at all.  I am sure Jeff and God are now having some amazing conversations and hopefully having a good laugh about 6000 year old Earth theories.

Jeff gave of himself without reservation.  He was there for me when my daughter was born with Down’s Syndrome and I needed someone to listen.  He and I spent many a Tuesday evening at Jitter’s Coffee house in Eagle River.  We talked of science.  Solved the worlds problems.  Pointed out how the rest of the world was obviously wrong for not thinking like us.  (This would often make us laugh.  As we said “Too bad everyone isn’t as smart as we are.”  We were of course kidding.)  Jeff was always there to teach me about astronomy, even when he was trying to take a break from it, he would always help me because he knew it was my passion.  Jeff knew I didn’t have the money to buy expensive equipment for astronomy.  So when I decided to try and make a computerized mount out of a Celestron CG5 with a Meade Autostar, we spent HOURS trying to design the motor mounts and gear system.  It looked like something Rube Goldberg would draw.  When I told him of my desire to do variable star studies, he even offered to send me his SBIG camera.

I admire Jeff so much.  He taught me how to think better.  He advanced my astronomy knowledge.  He taught my son how scientists think and discover.  But my son and I were not alone in the gift of knowledge from Jeff.  As a science and astronomy popularizer and educator, Jeff taught many classes at various science centers and schools.  Like all gifted teachers, Jeff had a depth of knowledge that allowed him to take complex concepts and reduce them to understandable levels so everyone in the audience could take away new knowledge.  Even when challenged by, shall we call them fundamentalist thinkers, Jeff addressed their questions with respect and courtesy.

Jeff was also a photographer.  I recall how enthusiastic Jeff was to take a portrait of my family on a rare occasion when my parents, both my brothers and their families were in Anchorage.  It is an amazing picture.

I am a better person because of my friend Jeff.  He taught me to believe in myself, my abilities and my dreams.  As they say on NPR, “This I Believe.”

Well, Father’s Day is almost complete. This is the first Father’s day since my Dad passed away March 11, 2008. In celebration of my Dad, I spent the entire day enjoying my own family. My mother told me today that she feels that I am an excellent Dad to my two kids. If that is so, it is my Dad I have to thank for teaching me how to be a good father and husband. So, this post will be about my Dad, philosophy, and family.

My Dad was a the child of immigrant parents. He lived in New York city, in The Village before The Village was kitsch. He worked hard. His father passed away when my Dad was only 17. Through his hardwork and the support of his older brother Frank, my Dad attended Stuyvesant High School in New York. A school that one could only attend with excellent academic performance. My Dad was always first in his class. From there my Dad attended City College of New York. Although the same CCNY as today, at that time one had to maintain an excellent GPA in order to attend free of charge. While at CCNY, my Dad participate in Army ROTC, was a member of the Persian rifles, was a classmate of Colin Powell, and graduated with an Electrical Engineering degree. Following college he served the Army as a signal corp lieutenant.

My Dad worked for RCA for his entire life. While there he earned two Masters Degrees, one in Electrical Engineering and the other an MBA. From my seat, my Dad’s greatest achievement was his participation in the event of the millennium. My Dad was one of four persons who designed, tested and built the altimeter and rendezvous radars for the Apollo 11 mission to the moon. Never before in the history of man has such an accomplishment been achieved.

My Dad single handedly put me and my two brothers through college. He never asked for us to repay him. He wanted us to succeed and have an easer life than he did and to take the momentum he began and advance his family.

Because no testament to a parent or friend would be complete without the obligatory, “I wish I had …” (fill in the blank, “spent more time”, “spoken more”, etc.) I will add mine. I wish I had taken the time to speak more frequently with my Dad. But alas, life is always busy. Harry Chapin hit the nail on the head. The song is 100% correct.

So, in honor of my Dad, I spent the day not missing a moment of life. I worked on my house, I played in the pool with my kids, I played video games with my son, I danced with my daughter, I BBQ’d on the grill, and, as my Dad always did, I treated my wife like gold and the treasure that she is. My Mom and Dad knew each other for 65 years and he always treated her like gold.

I miss you Dad. We think of you often and your can think of more than a dozen times since your death that I have said, “I should call my Dad.”

My final word, “Call your Dad if you can.” He wants to hear from you and you know it. If you have strife between you, bury it for this one day for we know for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee. Don’t miss today.  Carpe Diem.