500 Days, or Five Good Months
600 Days, or Six Good Months
Sundials and stelae. Stonehenge. Tulum. Humans use artifacts and architecture to help mark the passage of the seasons and celebrate calendar landmarks. Some are purpose-built; others, although not originally designed to reference a particular celestial passage, take on their own significance as reminders of the lengthening and shortening of days. (One of my favorites, of course, is the alignment of the sun along the Infinite Corridor: not just a geek-enriched celebration, but a bi-yearly marking of the darkest weeks at the bottom of the year in Cambridge.) I have now learned enough of the patterns of my home in Lafayette to note the seasons as the sun transits the windows and doors of the house from east to west, spring to fall. Near the Spring Equinox in March, the sunrise tracks down the hallways, and makes prisms through the windows that fall on the far walls. The return of longer days, late sunsets, and warm breezes seem to grant me additional energy and enthusiasm for projects and innovation: six good months are here, until the Fall semester and Equinox return in August and September. (Or so I thought, back in May, when I wrote the first draft of this entry. It’s mid-June now, so I’m down to five warm and good months. It’s also just a bit less than 500 days for total mission duration, as I will point out later.)
Figures 1,2. Springtime prisms on the walls.
Interestingly, the sunlight this spring felt especially auspicious, even though we still had snow well into April. (A lesson for me, that I respond to the quality of light, and not just the outdoor temperature. Snowfall on the still-bare trees, framing a brilliant blue of sky, was still a treat for me, and an encouragement to “get to it”.) So, what is compelling my energy and enthusiasm now? As I mentioned in “Origin Story,” I had the opportunity to see the crew of Apollo 8 in Chicago a few weeks ago, relating some of the story and observation of what it was like to be on that mission, and how much that experience changed—not just them, but the lives and thoughts and dreams of so many others during the bleak pains experienced in 1968. You mean, all of that was 50 years ago? Of course, it sounds like distant history when I say it, but it feels like near and precious memory.
Calendars and anniversaries seem to carry special significance, particularly with base ten multipliers. Fifty years. A half a century. A golden anniversary. That is the basis of special celebration. A century plus fifty? Longer than human lives, an announcement of longevity and recognition of legacy, although a bit more difficulty to say or spell: a sesquicentennial. Combined, there is a sense of serendipity and convergence, and I must admit, a celebration of purpose and precious acknowledgement of the prettiness of what can be achieved with an integration of purpose and imagination and fierce determination. Even the celebration becomes itself such an integration.
A few years ago, the campus put together a proposal to create a Center for Human Imagination; I was inspired by the effort, and wrote a series of vignettes centered on such a convergent celebration, being held as part of the Purdue 150th Anniversary, on the 50th Anniversary date of the Apollo 11 Moon Landing: July 20, 2019. The Center never came to be, but in some ways, I have it even better now: There’s no need to worry about the Center’s activities, and indeed, the celebration of “One Giant Leap” can expand to encompass multiple Giant Leaps, looking forward as well as to the past. I can think of no greater experience of my passions than to be “Flight Director” for such a mission of celebration and imagination. The world will celebrate July 20, 2019, and Purdue is a natural focus of that attention. By mid-October, Purdue’s celebration of its legacy and look to the next 50 – 150 years with a look to past and future in exploration and space. Yes, these are concepts Passionately Felt. But a successful mission requires more than passion.
Elegantly Crafted: It takes something special to walk into a room and present a plan to do what others might even fear to imagine. But, well-crafted, the pretty math and elegant design wins out. The fictional rescue plan in The Martian could only be the design of… (insert awe-struck whisper of appreciation and respect): “a steely-eyed missile man”. But we don’t have to rely on fiction. The Apollo 8 lunar insertion trajectory was no less a work of elegance, crafted only a few months before the mission. And don’t forget Kathryn Johnson, our quintessential “steely eyed rocket woman” who crafted the math to bring John Glenn back home.
Excellently Executed: Also in “Origin Story,” I described the challenge of the hero living their life forward, not knowing if this is the moment that creates the legend (what legend?) that the screenwriter will weave into our dreams. Preparation, talent, desire, opportunity… In sports, maybe you are remembered as the player who made that amazing shot to win that game… and then, two days later, you did it again. Or maybe you’re a test pilot, trusting an “extra gallon or two” in the tank in the face of “1201 alarm” and “30 seconds”.

Figure 3: Flight Director’s Notes: Passionately Felt, Elegantly Crafted, Excellently Executed.
Why do I want to be Flight Director? I love making connections. I thrive on bringing the pieces together. They’re not all my pieces, and none of this is just one person’s story. It’s certainly not just about the one moment of peak experience. There are many moments, and several hundred days, available between now and late October, 2019. (Just a little short of 500 days, you might not be surprised to know: just enough time for some beautiful orbital mechanics and gravity assist to get all the pieces in place.) They don’t happen all at once, and I mustn’t ignore their beauty when I find them. Perhaps a piece of crafting becomes visible in the shower, steam and water vapor glistening as the sunset shines through my bathroom window. No, that won’t happen every day. It requires alignment, and notice. And a few good days, weeks, and months.

Figure 4: Alignment of the light.

December 30, 2023
Priority Push Notifications
“New notification available. Open?”
Engaging in family connection and conversation on the Saturday morning between Christmas and New Years, it is easy to lose some track of the general passage of time. Discussions of gameplay and gender dynamics, considerations of varieties of microbreweries and their recent offerings, as the hours pass and wake-up times become more of a suggestion than a workday requirement. So, it was really a bit of a surprise to notice that my weather app was trying to give me a bit of new information about the meteorological world.
“100 days until the eclipse!”
Urp. That is a bit of an alert about what is waiting for me next week when I return to work mode. All remaining conceits of “but that is so far away… it isn’t even this year” drop away as the calendar shifts over to January, 2024. The local business community news outlets are starting to highlight the upcoming events and tourist projections. For Indiana, the Total Solar Eclipse (TSE) could be a really big deal. If the community is ready. If the planning continues to make progress. If the weather is good. If we coordinate the media center activities. If the invitees actually are available and show up.
How much of that is within any one individual’s control, or scope? I will confess to having had a long history of feeling a strong sense of responsibility to make everything work, to keep track of and use my own force of will to bring the best imagined scenario into being. Much to my surprise (and potential relief), the experience of the TSE planning is starting to take me away from that stance. Make no mistake; I am feeling the “terribly, terribly aware” intensity of ensuring that the invitation letters are sent and the corporate executives are informed, in “BLUF” terminology and 10-second sound bites, why they need to commit resources and time and self to this thing as this priority, now.
However, I also remember a very valuable lesson from the last statewide preparation event for which I felt an important obligation as Indiana Space Grant Consortium (INSGC) Director, the Apollo 11 50th Anniversary event back in July 2019. Lots of people wanted to celebrate this historic event in their own way, in their own place, with the resources and connections that were meaningful for them. The TSE is a bit more localized and focused – not every community in Indiana will experience totality, but the communities with which INSGC and I are engaged literally span the state from southwest to northeast. We can help out a lot regarding eclipse viewing safety and the timing and direction of where to look… but otherwise, it’s kind of like putting together a really huge potluck picnic. In some ways, it feels like the planners of the National Road Garage / Yard Sale, spanning hundreds of miles of old U.S. 40. We know the date. We know the locations. (Oh, if you’re interested, the 2024 dates for the National Road Sale are May 29 – June 2.). But what’s for sale? Which bands will be playing, where? What’s going to be on the menu? I don’t really know all of what people will be bringing, and the more I try to control that part, the less enthusiasm there will be. We just welcome as many people to participate in as many ways as engages their excitement and interest to tell a very special story about a very special experience.
Perhaps it is a good thing that I take a few more quiet days here at the end of the calendar year. I appreciate the rest and the restoration that will help me prepare for the coming weeks. The long-term advanced planning is very much coming to an end. As is often said, it’s go time. Lay out the viewing location access paths and traffic flow plans. Test the equipment. Confirm the portable cellular and toilet orders. (No. Really. Do it this coming week.). Have you got safety videos? School release information? General public notices? In several languages? In accessible formats? What about…
Ah, yes. Use the rest while it’s available. Take advantage of the holiday weekend. Celebrate safely, everyone. Happy New Year. I hope to see some of you at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway for the TSE viewing, and you enjoying your souvenir pair of “The Greatest Spectacles”. I will be there in spirit in Evansville, and Terre Haute, and Bloomington, and Jasper, and Lebanon, and Brownsburg, and Muncie, and Winchester, and all the other places along the path. Bring your friends. Take lots of pictures. Remember the day, because it will be something to be shared and recalled and stories to be told. “Hey, back in ’24? What did you do for the Eclipse? Was it special for you, too?”
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