On Tuesday, TechTV sent me to JPL to interview some of the people responsible for the Mars Exploration Rover mission for a Screen Savers segment that will air next week.
I was lucky enough to land interviews with Dr. Joy Crisp, who is one of the project scientists, one of the guys who drives the rovers (who I can’t find any web data on, so I’m pretty sure I’ve gotten his name wrong, like an idiot) and Julie Townsend, who is the Tactical Uplink Lead (how cool does that sound?)
I thought I may be a little silly (“So, tell me, if you had to reverse the polarity on the rover’s main deflector shield . . . “) but mostly serious (“What’s the data transfer rate from the Rover to the DSN, and what protocol do you use to talk to it?”).
When I was there, though, I found it very difficult to joke around, because I am so in awe of these people. I mean, I pretended to do shit in space. These people really do, and their work will have a far greater impact on history than mine. Oh, and they’re all super nice and patiently answered each question I asked like they hadn’t heard it a thousand times already. When faced with an intelligent scientist who is passionate about her work, who is taking time out of her day to talk to me, it just seems wrong to ask some flip question about how many Martians they’ve had to photoshop out of the images.
We talked a lot about what they expected to learn from this mission, and how relieved they were that it’s working so well, especially considering all the losses they’ve had from recent Mars missions. Their optimism and excitement was infectious, and electric, and I was very grateful to be there to share some of it with them.
So I was *incredibly* sad this afternoon when I read that Spirit hasn’t talked to JPL for 24 hours, and they’re afraid that they may have lost contact with the rover.
There’s still some hope that they can recover from what is being called a “very serious anomaly,” but that hope is fading fast.
So if anyone reading this could, you know, maybe look up toward Mars tonight, and send a little Mojo to Spirit, that’d be cool.
UPDATED @ 1800 PST: Spirit Beeps It’s Alive And “Commandable”: NASA Official

NASA officials at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory have confirmed that the Mars Exploration Rover Spirit has responded to an emergency command this morning by sending back a radio beep — an event which had been stated as a possibility, but not a certainty, at the end of this morning’s JPL press conference. “This means it’s commandable,” a JPL spokeswoman told SpaceDaily.

(Link found via trackback. Thanks, Grant!)

I just found out that Dancing Barefoot is number three on Mysterious Galaxy’s 2003 Paperback Bestsellers list!
I know for a fact that this wouldn’t have happened without WWdN readers. Thank you 🙂

Over the last eight years, I have always looked for ways to connect with the boys. It’s a delicate dance that I have to do, respecting their limits while pushing them to give new and different things a try. It’s made even harder by my position in their lives as a Stepparent™. Most of the things I love are rejected out of hand, because to embrace those things would be to wholly embrace me, which (in their minds) would be to somehow betray their father. I have shared my interests and passions with them, but beyond poker, and Ryan’s limited affection for 80s alternative music, we have little in common at this point in their lives. It makes me sad from time to time, but it’s something I have to accept; they’re just not interested in geeky things like comics and RPGs. I’m sure that part of it is their age, and the differences in our generations. There are times when we make wonderful connections, but I still lay awake some nights and wonder if I’ll ever be able to fully close the gap that currently exists between us.
I’m not a car nut, by any means. I think American muscle cars from about 1960-1974 are pretty damn cool, but I could care less about today’s expensive sportscars . . . Nolan, on the other hand, positively loves them, and while we were at the car show, he made an effort to share that love with me, the same way I’ve attempted to share my love of science fiction with him. On the surface, this is just a car show . . . but it’s much, much more to me . . .

Over the next hour or so, we slowly moved from one booth to the next across the West Hall. I watched Nolan as he sat in several cars that he likes to drive in various Xbox games. I could see the far away look in his eyes while he was in the Audi TT, gripping the wheel tightly as he pulled through turns across Trafalgar Square in Project Gotham Racing, and I smiled. He finished his race (in first place, no doubt) and got out of the car.
“Nice driving,” I said. “Ready for the South Hall?”
“You know it,” he said, and took my hand.
We left the hall, and headed down a long corridor. Our walk was uneventful, until we neared a small chamber called the Concourse Hall. Nolan looked in as we passed, and stopped abruptly.
“Oh my god, Wil! We have to go in there! I just unlocked a Lotus in PGR2, and they’re totallygoing to have the real one here!” He said, “Can we? I’ve never seen one in real life.”
“Of course!” I said, “That’s why we’re here.”
We walked into a room that was packed (well above its capacity) with hundreds of exotic sportscar enthusiasts. In addition to the Lotuses, this hall contained the Bentleys, the Ferraris, the Lamborghinis, and the Saleens.
“Man, this room is really full. Should we come back later?” Nolan said.
I looked around the room. It was hot, and a faint reek of greasy hair and sweat hung in the air, like an elementary school hallway after lunch recess. Several people pushed their way past me, one of them knocking me off balance. Nolan squeezed my hand and steadied me.
“I think the Lotus booth is just to the right,” I said, “I think we can at least see that, and if it’s too crowded, we can come back later on.”
“Are you sure?”
In the far corner of the room, a group of men cheered, and I saw several arms reach into the air.
“Yeah. I think there’s just some sort of giveaway happening over there.”
“Maybe it’s a free whack at the GTO,” Nolan offered.
“Oh! Where can I sign up?” I said.
We giggled and slowly wove our way through the teeming masses yearning to win prizes, until we were pressed right up against the rail in front of the Lotus booth.
We hadn’t even stopped moving when Nolan went off on this car. He was like an audio version of Car and Driver.
“Can I take pictures?” He asked.
I handed him the camera and told him to go nuts.
A few minutes and about a thousand pictures later, we squeezed out of the suffocating room.
While we walked past a booth selling Auto Show T-Shirts, Nolan said, “Wil, I can get so many Kudos with that car in PGR 2 –” He stopped, and turned to face me.
“Is this boring for you?”
It was a very unexpected question, and caught me completely off guard.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I keep stopping you to look at cars.”
“Nolan, it’s a car show. What else are we going to do?”
“Okay, I’m just checking.” He looked away, then back to me. “Are you sure you’re not bored?”
“Nolan, I’m really happy to just be hanging out together, and I think it’s totally cool that you’re into these cars. I’m having a fantastic time.”
“Okay,” he said.
We walked another fifteen feet or so before he stopped again.
“Thanks for bringing me here, Wil.” He hugged me, right there by the Los Angeles Times booth.
I hugged him back, tightly, in spite of myself. “You’re welcome, Nolan. Thank you for telling me that.” I smiled. I’ve spent most of the last eight years teaching both kids to be compassionate and appreciative. I love it when I see a little glimpse of my parenting in action.
“I’m really glad we did this today,” he said.
“Me too.”
(Next time: The real return of the muscle car!)

Hey, take a look at this, from Alan Graham:

I normally don’t ask for help, but this is a situation where all I can do is make an appeal. My friends could make all the difference in the world. My wife recently became the Director of a non-profit art program that serves thousands of children . . . in a major budget crisis. They have no usable computing gear (their ONE Dell is ready for pasture). So I donated a lot of my personal gear and time . . . including one of two computers I plan to donate (we’re not rich, but I do have some stuff I can spare).
Well this morning my wife fell and injured herself . . . and the clamshell iBook I donated . . . which now has a cracked screen. Cannot be used and cannot be fixed (screen is more than the machine is worth). We’re not asking for one penny . . . but are looking for some folks who might help, out there in the blogosphere, to turn those lemons into some lemonade. I don’t have the money to repair the machine (and not asking for any), but I could use a little word of mouth.

Alan is a great guy, and it would be really cool to help out. Take a look at his page, and learn about the program (The Children’s Art Network) his wife is directing. It’s fantastic.
If you know someone who has some extra Apple computer stuff they don’t want or need, or maybe have a connection to a Dickensian Mysterious Benefactor, pass it along, okay?

My pal Sean brought this lovely photo to my attention.
It should give the restless WWdN reader something to do for, oh, six or even eight seconds today!