Because together we are powerful

Ok, people. I need your help.

I love science fiction. I love it so much that I think I would die if someone made this genre illegal. I dream science and SF the way I dream poetry. As a result, there are some stories that are simply a part of who I am. Stories that have actually changed the way I think or the way that I interpret the world around me. After all, that is the goal of good science fiction, and always has been. 

Anyhoo... I have been trying for what seems like forever to find one of these fantastic stories. The problem is, that I can't figure out what this story is called or who wrote it. As a result, I have been unable to find it again. It was in a science fiction short story anthology I read once. That's ALL I know.

I am hoping that someone, somewhere also read this story and can tell me what it is.

Here's a synopsis.

Two astronauts/explorers encounter the remnants of a once grand civilization on a distant planet. In the remains of a city are a couple of locals who travel by jet packs or some sort of hover/flight equivalent.

The explorers want to replicate the technology and desperately plead with the locals to explain how the packs work. (perhaps even how all of the technology they see around them works) The locals are unable to answer. One of the explorers believes that the locals are purposefully refusing to answer the questions, that they are unwilling to share the knowledge. He becomes increasingly agitated and angry.

The second explorer has a moment of insight at the end of the story where he asks the first to explain how a match works.

The first says, "You take it out of the box and strike it to ignite."

The second then repeats the question. "No. Not 'How do you use one?' I meant, 'How do they work? What's on the match stick? What's on the strike strip? How do you make a match?' "

The first stares at him, dumbstruck, realizing they will never understand the technology because the locals' culture had advanced beyond the point where they knew how to create what they used.

Any ideas? I read this story probably 20 years ago. It is one of my very favorite moments in reading, but I cannot recall what the story is called....

You will be my hero forever if you know what story this is.

Spring

A poem I've been thinking on since last spring....

Spring arrives shyly
          blushing
embarrassed to be caught dressing
uncertain of the fancy gown
          prepared for her party
thinking perhaps that people may laugh
         if she does something wrong
         takes a wrong step in the dance
         allows a petticoat to show
                  a jewel to drop to the ground
                  her corsage to droop.

She's not done this before.
          Older sisters have; they've given instruction

The blush fades
         she takes a deep breath
She shakes out her locks
         golden and green
Dons slippers of purple and white
         a waistcoat of white and yellow-green
         a gown of innumerable blossoms, delicately embroidered
         a blazon of pinks to be-ribbon her hair

Stunning
Beautiful
the belle of the ball

She retires
         the blossoms fall to the ground.
She rests
         and begins to prepare her younger sister.

100th Post Celebratory Bonanza

Whee. The end.


***************************************

Just kidding. In all honesty, that WAS going to be my post. It really was, but then I found out about El's and John's Profound Picture Prize Giveaway to support some good charities, to honor the memory of their stillborn son Eli, and to help raise funds for their son Seth's cochlear implants. Their little Seth is the adorabl-est!

(Isn't he SO cute?)

For a $10 donation, you'll be entered in a raffle for this package:

• A Nikon or Canon SLR Camera
• A 4Gb Memory Card
• Camera Strap
• Photo Bag
• Adobe Photoshop Elements 7
• A 12x18 canvas print from IPrintCanvas

The two charities which will be benefiting from this raffle are Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep and Rhyan's Hope. You can find out more about the giveaway and these charities at El's blog Profoundly Seth.

Hi, Uncle Chuck!

It's the time of year when we wax introspective, right? Well, I like to avoid waxy buildup, so don't go expecting too much. Today kicks off a (most likely irregularly serial) series of tributes to people, places, and things that have influenced my life.


Lucky #1 - My Uncle Chuck


When I was a kid, I vividly remember traveling to visit Uncle Chuck and Aunt Syl in Connecticut. They had a nice house and nice friends and a nice church and nice woods across the street...

Have I mentioned their nice-ness?


But, that's not really what I think of when I think of my Uncle Chuck.


The first thing I think of is V. Yup. The old show with the lizard people. I don't think I was allowed to watch it, but I sure wanted to. All the screaming I overheard from the next room, perhaps? The fact that it was freakin' lizard people!?! Just awesome.




The second thing is an instance when I caught him laughing. He was reading, sitting in his recliner, and he started laughing. Well, if you've never heard it... There were tears rolling down his face. He was laughing so hard it started to squeak, and the sheer force of his guffaws (yes, guffaws) lifted his feet clean off the floor. I love to watch him laugh. Of course, I had to know what he was reading. Turns out it was a book called The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.
Could I read it? No.
Why not? You wouldn't like it.
But you're laughing: It's funny, right? No, not really.
But you're laughing. No, not really.


Just for the record, Uncle Chuck, I have read it now. The complete collection. At one point, I laughed so hard that I fell off the couch. Appear: my daughter.
Can I read that? No.
Why not? Oh, I don't think you'd like it.
But you're laughing. That means it's funny! No, not really. I wasn't laughing at that.
What were you laughing at? Your dad. He made a joke.
Dad's at work. That's not the point. Don't you have chores to do?



The third thing that I think of is happiness. Everyone and everything that makes up who Uncle Chuck is lends to an atmosphere of happiness.

• Aunt Syl baking brown honey oatmeal bread
• Jokes
• Scott and Bryant
  
• Going to church or talking about when he was a missionary
• Playing the accordion
• HAM radio
• Jokes
• Kittens
• Hummingbirds
• Laughter
• Jokes
  

I don't have a single negative thought associated with my Uncle Chuck. Even that one night when I cried in the hallway (seriously - it was like ALL night long) and no one came out to comfort me... well, Scott came out, but I think he went to sleep in the garage... Even that night was my own stubborn fault, I now realize. (Sorry about that, by the way.)


When I think of my Uncle Chuck, I think of peace, and happiness, and love. I'm glad he's a part of my life, and I'm glad that sometimes I can find what I like about him in myself .


UPDATE: Got this note from Aunt Syl: "Hey, Mikki, don't you remember me coming to comfort you and explain that we couldn't take you home to be with your Mom at that time of the night and to just think of happy times until you fall asleep? And you did fall asleep sometime around 1 AM." Oops. I did forget to put that part in! I guess that sentence was pretty poorly worded. Yes, comfort was given. Didn't mean it quite the way I wrote it! Thanks for pointing that out!