Winter Star Party I
This is one of those "who woulda thunk" moments. I'm down in Merritt Island. Florida, just a few miles from the launch pads that have been a gateway to the Solar System for decades, and I'm drinking coffee from an OU Sooners coffee mug. It's more than half a century since I went off to college in Norman, Oklahoma, and met Claude and Karen Keezer and began playing guitar in their coffee house. Claude's been gone a few years now, but we still drop in on Karen whenever we're down here.
Went out last night to watch their son play, with his wife, in a beachside bar. That's been our custom for some years, decades now. We always head for the Keys in February, for the dark skies and warm clear air of the Winter Star Party.
We'll be doing some registration work later, but for a few days we'll just enjoy the weather and the sky in the land of Jimmy, not Warren, Buffett.
Still on the mainland, until about noon. Then we head down A1A, deep blue ocean on both sides of the road, to an island that sprouts telescopes this time of year. The Winter Star Party, where tanned bathing beauties stare at the pale white skin of astronomers who keep vampires' hours.
Went out last night to watch their son play, with his wife, in a beachside bar. That's been our custom for some years, decades now. We always head for the Keys in February, for the dark skies and warm clear air of the Winter Star Party.
We'll be doing some registration work later, but for a few days we'll just enjoy the weather and the sky in the land of Jimmy, not Warren, Buffett.
Still on the mainland, until about noon. Then we head down A1A, deep blue ocean on both sides of the road, to an island that sprouts telescopes this time of year. The Winter Star Party, where tanned bathing beauties stare at the pale white skin of astronomers who keep vampires' hours.