Week 2
Apparently the operating system on my home computer (forged somewhere around the time that fire was just becoming popular) is too ancient for Blogger to recognize. That, or it's just too slow to open it. Regardless, I am unable to update the blog from home. Oh, well.....
I awoke Saturday morning to a rather strange sound: rain. It hasn't rained here in Dallas for about 6 and a half years, and boy, did we need it. I love to listen to it rain. When I was a kid, the house I grew up in had a large 3/4 wrap porch with a big swing on the front. One of my favorite things to do was to sit in that swing and watch it rain. There was a huge oak tree in the front yard and the wind blowing through its branches during a rainstorm made the most incredible sound. It would start out as a soft moan that was barely audible. Then the swaying of the branches and limbs, one by one, would join in and add to the chorus their own rhythm backbeat. If it were an especially strong storm, the wind would push the rain around in sheets in an almost choreographed performance. And then, everything would go silent. The rain would stop, the branches would droop, heavy with water, and the sun would break through the clouds. It would be a truly wonderful experience. And one that was completely free of charge.
Saturday also marked the 20th anniversary of the Challenger Accident. I remember I was in the 6th grade, taking a math test when the announcement came over the intercom. I remember my classmates running the range of emotions: shock, denial, fear. There were a few tears, and, I'm ashamed to admit, more than a few immature jokes made about it. I remember watching TV that night, and seeing the tape of the explosion over and over and over again. It was an exciting time, back then, before the accident. Mom was a teacher and a lot of her fellow teachers were happy about Christa McAuliffe and her place in the history books. Little did anyone know just what she would go down in history for. It was the single worst moment in the history of the space program since the Apollo 1 Accident, almost 20 years earlier. It was a blow not only to the NASA program, but to us as well. During those weeks leading up to the launch, McAuliffe had become the face of the space program. Her death, and the death of her teammates, showed the world the dangers involved firsthand. And it was a danger that nearly crippled NASA. Public favor of space exploration dropped dramatically, and most chose to focus their attentions elsewhere. It was a terrible tragedy. It was 73 seconds that no one will ever forget.
Getting back to the spec script, I think I've an idea for an Everwood episode. Now, I just need to research some screenplays and see how it needs to break down. I have a good feeling about this, and can't wait to start working on it.
To sleep, perchance to dream. I hung out with some friends Saturday night, watching the Best of Will Ferrell on SNL and giving foot rubs (apparently, I've some skill in this department). However, I didn't end up getting home until almost 5:30 Sunday morning, which made church yesterday quite interesting. But, I was able to make up the sleep last night, and I'm ready to take on Monday with all that I've got. Well, with as much as I'm willing to give up, anyway. :)
"Historians are gossips who tease the dead." ~Voltaire
Thanks for stopping by.
-Jos
I awoke Saturday morning to a rather strange sound: rain. It hasn't rained here in Dallas for about 6 and a half years, and boy, did we need it. I love to listen to it rain. When I was a kid, the house I grew up in had a large 3/4 wrap porch with a big swing on the front. One of my favorite things to do was to sit in that swing and watch it rain. There was a huge oak tree in the front yard and the wind blowing through its branches during a rainstorm made the most incredible sound. It would start out as a soft moan that was barely audible. Then the swaying of the branches and limbs, one by one, would join in and add to the chorus their own rhythm backbeat. If it were an especially strong storm, the wind would push the rain around in sheets in an almost choreographed performance. And then, everything would go silent. The rain would stop, the branches would droop, heavy with water, and the sun would break through the clouds. It would be a truly wonderful experience. And one that was completely free of charge.
Saturday also marked the 20th anniversary of the Challenger Accident. I remember I was in the 6th grade, taking a math test when the announcement came over the intercom. I remember my classmates running the range of emotions: shock, denial, fear. There were a few tears, and, I'm ashamed to admit, more than a few immature jokes made about it. I remember watching TV that night, and seeing the tape of the explosion over and over and over again. It was an exciting time, back then, before the accident. Mom was a teacher and a lot of her fellow teachers were happy about Christa McAuliffe and her place in the history books. Little did anyone know just what she would go down in history for. It was the single worst moment in the history of the space program since the Apollo 1 Accident, almost 20 years earlier. It was a blow not only to the NASA program, but to us as well. During those weeks leading up to the launch, McAuliffe had become the face of the space program. Her death, and the death of her teammates, showed the world the dangers involved firsthand. And it was a danger that nearly crippled NASA. Public favor of space exploration dropped dramatically, and most chose to focus their attentions elsewhere. It was a terrible tragedy. It was 73 seconds that no one will ever forget.
Getting back to the spec script, I think I've an idea for an Everwood episode. Now, I just need to research some screenplays and see how it needs to break down. I have a good feeling about this, and can't wait to start working on it.
To sleep, perchance to dream. I hung out with some friends Saturday night, watching the Best of Will Ferrell on SNL and giving foot rubs (apparently, I've some skill in this department). However, I didn't end up getting home until almost 5:30 Sunday morning, which made church yesterday quite interesting. But, I was able to make up the sleep last night, and I'm ready to take on Monday with all that I've got. Well, with as much as I'm willing to give up, anyway. :)
"Historians are gossips who tease the dead." ~Voltaire
Thanks for stopping by.
-Jos
posted by Josh at
8:44 AM
1 Comments:
The rain was quite wonderful, wasn't it? I enjoyed your vivid description of the experience as a child. I, too, have great memories of going to my grandparent's home as a child and sitting on their
wrap-around porch as the rain poured down. The smell of the wet pine trees afterward was something I can still close my eyes and imagine. It's still nice, but not exactly the same. Perhaps it's all tied together with a child's perspective and how impressionable we are at different times in our lives.
Keep practicing the valuable skill of footrubs. It will continue to assure your popularity!
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Anonymous, At
9:12 PM
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