From the USM Southworth Planetarium
“A trickle of fra la in a basin of humbug”
THE DAILY ASTRONOMER
December 22, 2009
A Pleasant Evening Spoiled
As it is holiday week, I decided to take the day off. So, instead of sending an article, I decided merely to give you a ring side seat at our family holiday festivities. Doing so saves me a lot of work-I don’t feel like writing, anyway- and since indolence is the truly joyous part of the holidays, I’m all for being utterly and seasonally irresponsible.
Christmas Eve
Yes,the sky was perfectly clear,the closest cloud being somewhere off the Nantucket shore. Out beyond the frosted windows the deeps of night beckoned. Just above the ice crystal white of the window’s corner arose Orion’s belt; poised above the porch, the firefly tangle of the Pleiades. The gibbous moon was cast in subtle reflection upon the snow field’s glistening ices as Sirius sparkled through the intertwined branches of pines and barren oak. It was this summons to explore the murmuring wonder world beyond the door that we indifferent lumps cheerfully ignored from the sanctity of our unnatural living room.
That was the ideal place for the holiday observance: the sweet warmth of a living room lit by soft icicle lights, a blinking Christmas Tree, and mantelpiece candles above the dancing ember glow of the blazing hearth fire.
On the sofa,Aunt Moira thumbed through a Popular Mechanics while Uncle Patrick deftly crocheted that star spangled, Independence Day quilt that he figured couldn’t wait another day. Cousin Sean bent over his scattered papers,intent upon his purpose. He was one of those poor enslaved souls unable to wrest himself away from work even around the holidays. Cousin Sheila’s laugh emanated from the kitchen, where she shared private moments with her indecently handsome rugby player boyfriend. She was keeping him out of the living room, in case Aunt Moira wanted an arm wrestling re-match.
Liam was also absent. We had no idea where he could have gone when he scampered out of the living room ten minutes before. It was only when we heard frantic footfalls down the corridor that we figured out he must have been somewhere around the hall. He clamored hastily into the living room,holding a box under his arm.
LIAM: I’ve got it! ha ha Now, by God, it’s a party!
AUNT MOIRA: (resignedly) What do you have, Liam?
LIAM: (slapping the box cheerfully) A board game.
(Wonderful! An evening of fun and family togetherness enhanced by fierce competition.)
UNCLE PATRICK: (annoyed) A board what?
LIAM:Game. You know, a thing that well groomed families sit around in those nifty pictures they put on the instruction manual. I figured it’s something we could, you know, do together, you know, as a, well,as a family.
UNCLE PATRICK: (confused) Why would we want to do that?
LIAM: Because it’s Christmas Eve! A time, you know, when families should be enjoying each other.
UNCLE PATRICK: What do you think we’ve been doing?
LIAM: We’ve been ignoring each other completely!
UNCLE PATRICK: Best way to enjoy family.
LIAM:Oh,that’s not the holiday spirit at all! Let’s all play this game! It took me a damn long time to find it. You can darn that scarf later.
UNCLE PATRICK: (angrily) It’s a quilt!
LIAM: Looks like a scarf
UNCLE PATRICK: I just started working on it.
LIAM: Well,you shouldn’t call it a quilt until it actually starts looking like one. Call it a proto-quilt or something. Besides, you can’t work on it if you don’t have your table (pulls it away from Uncle Patrick)
UNCLE PATRICK: Hey!
LIAM: Well, we can’t play on the floor. So, who’s in?
During the fifteen seconds that followed Liam’s question, the sounds of loons about a half mile down the river were quite loud, as was the traffic on a distant highway.
LIAM: Anyone?
And the mouse in that basement then sounded like it had just happened upon a tasty morsel,which it consumed with audible relish.
LIAM: Please?
DA: Ok, I’m in.
LIAM: Great. Anyone else?
AUNT MOIRA: (sighing) I suppose if it is this important to you, Liam.
LIAM: Wonderful!
AUNT MOIRA: Your Uncle Patrick will join us, won’t you, Patrick?
UNCLE PATRICK: (in a sneering whisper) It’s a quilt….
AUNT MOIRA: And, so will Sean. Sean?
COUSIN SEAN: (jerking his head up) I’m sorry, what?!
AUNT MOIRA: Put away whatever it is you’re working on. We’re going to have some family time.
COUSIN SEAN: We’re having a bail collection meeting on Christmas Eve?
AUNT MOIRA: (thin-lipped) We are going to play a game that Liam has picked out.
COUSIN SEAN: Um, ok. Which one?
Liam showed him the box.
LIAM:You know this one. Remember? You and I played it last year and made all those supplemental rules to make it more interesting.
COUSIN SEAN: Oh, yeah! Sure, I’ll play.
LIAM: Do you think Sheila and Atlas Major in the kitchen would like to play?
AUNT MOIRA: Let them be. They sound like they’re having fun.
UNCLE PATRICK: (under his breath) Somebody has to.
AUNT MOIRA: (slaps his arm) Shhh! I’ll get some chairs
UNCLE PATRICK: (moving from the couch to the table) So, what game is this, anyway?
LIAM: (proudly) Monopoly.
UNCLE PATRICK:Oh, ho, boys! This might be fun after all. You might want to re-think this, guys. (rolls up his sleeves). I have to tell you, I’m a bit of a Monopoly shark, you know.
Uncle Patrick then stopped short as Liam opened the game onto the table.
UNCLE PATRICK: What the devil is that?!
AUNT MOIRA: (scolding) Pat, it’s Christmas!
UNCLE PATRICK: Sorry. What the Hell is that?!
LIAM: What does it look like? It’s Monopoly
UNCLE PATRICK: That ain’t any Monopoly board I’ve ever seen.
LIAM: Of course not. It’s ASTRONOMY Monopoly
DA: (turning tail and moving toward the door) Good night!
LIAM: Hey, you said you’d play!
DA: Sorry. Sudden leg cramp. Can’t possibly make it around the board.
LIAM: Oh, come on!
AUNT MOIRA: (calling after DA) Please… It’s Christmas.
DA: (waving behind his head as he whips out of sight): Shalom.
LIAM: Oh, fine, be that way, you coward. See if I care! We’ll have a great time without you.
It was the work of a moment to seat all four of them around the table and distribute the money, assign the pieces and organize the cards. Uncle Patrick was too astonished by the sight of the celestial images to pay much attention to the 13 pairs of dice within the box.
LIAM:(excitedly rubbing a die in his hands) Now, we have to determine who goes first. Uncle Patrick, pick a number between one and ten.
UNCLE PATRICK (with brow wrinkled in confusion): Um, three?
LIAM: Wrong! I go first.
UNCLE PATRICK (glaring at Aunt Moira): What the…
AUNT MOIRA: Let’s just play, Pat. Go ahead, Liam.
Liam rolled two die and landed on Mars.
LIAM: Nah! Be hard to maintain hotels without any oxygen or water. Ah, ha ha…I made a funny.
UNCLE PATRICK: (already seething)
They went through Aunt Moira’s turn and then Sean’s before Patrick took the dice. He rolled and landed on Saturn.
UNCLE PATRICK: (handing Sean the money) I’ll buy it.
COUSIN SEAN:Ok, I can get that card. Just a moment. I arranged them according to which space object was my favorite, followed by my second favorite,then third, and so on, like that. Probably should have stacked them according to set, but that seemed a bit, well,dull. Problem is I can’t remember how much I like Saturn.
AUNT MOIRA: (standing up and moving toward the kitchen) Why don’t I go get everyone a glass of water…
COUSIN SEAN: Oh, here it is. Ok, now, the question.
UNCLE PATRICK: Question?
COUSIN SEAN: Yeah,well,in this game, you have to answer a question about the property you’re buying before you can buy it. It really makes sense, you know, because, well in real life, if you’re buying a home, you should know a lot about it.How many doors it has…how it’s upholstered….its highway mileage.
AUNT MOIRA:(returning to the living room with the water) Here you go,dear. I used the plastic cup already ruined by teeth marks.
COUSIN SEAN:(rifling through a set of hand written index cards) Ok, here it is: “Saturn’s largest moon is blank.” Well, it doesn’t actually say,”blank,” it is just a blank line,you see. You have to fill in the blank.
UNCLE PATRICK: I don’t want Saturn anymore.
COUSIN SEAN: (shaking head): Sorry. No refunds for planets. The return shipping charge is murder. ha ha
LIAM: (elbowing Uncle Patrick playfully) Now he made a funny.
AUNT MOIRA: Drink that water slowly dear.
LIAM: I don’t think Uncle Patrick cares too much for astronomy, Sean. Better ask him another type of question.
COUSIN SEAN: Like what?
LIAM: Anything else. Just make it for a simpleton.
UNCLE PATRICK: (red faced)
LIAM: (hurriedly) I mean, make it simple!
COUSIN SEAN: Um, ok….uh, let’s see. Ok, name a famous Italian Renaissance artist.
UNCLE PATRICK: (through set teeth) Vince Lombardi
LIAM: Ok, show off…what century did he live in?
AUNT MOIRA: Can we do this without questions? I think it would be more fun for everyone.
COUSIN SEAN: (looking a bit wounded, as he puts the index cards on the floor.) Ok.
So ,for the next fifteen minutes, the players took their turns in silence:pieces advanced around the board; properties were sold; fees paid; jail time avoided and all was going swimmingly until…
LIAM: WOW!
COUSIN SEAN: Wow is right! Good for you, Liam.
LIAM: And people tell me I’m not talented.
COUSIN SEAN: They’ll eat their words now, by gum.
LIAM: You bet your bottom peso they will, hombre.
COUSIN SEAN: Please stick to English. Using Latin makes you sound pedantic.
LIAM: Whatever. Just give me the dice
UNCLE PATRICK(whose eyes were suddenly fatigued from having darted back and forth repeatedly between Sean and Liam): What’s all the fuss about? You just landed on one of the comet properties.
COUSIN SEAN:(placing his hand on Uncle Patrick’s arm) I know it looks that way to the untrained eye, but Liam just landed on a prime number space with a prime number roll during a prime number turn. Consequently, he is permitted to activate the hyperspace function. Hence, (he hands 24 dice over to Liam) the necessity of the extra dice. You might want to backup:the scattering effect of all those tossed die ..or dice…could prove a bit dangerous.
Liam rolled all 26 dice and came up with 81. So,he moved around the 40-space board twice before advancing one more space, which put him exactly one space ahead of where he was before: on the same space with Uncle Patrick.
COUSIN SEAN: (gravely) Oh
LIAM: (even more gravely) Oh
COUSIN SEAN: Not good.
LIAM: Beyond not good.
UNCLE PATRICK (nursing his eyes) Now what?!
COUSIN SEAN: You two occupy the same space. You haven’t done that before, but I was dreading the eventuality.
UNCLE PATRICK: (wincing) Why?
LIAM:You see,uncle,we’re enemies. WELL, NO! Not, you and I, of course ,but our pieces are. If you had paid attention to our rule book appendices, paying particular attention, of course, to Appendix 1,sub-section B,you would have known that my piece’s ancestors were once enslaved by your piece’s ancestors,until my ancestors revolted against your ancestors,thereby achieving their liberty, but ensuring that both races would exist in a state of mutual antipathy. Therefore, since we are in such close proximity, my vow of allegiance to my race compels me to attack your vessel.
UNCLE PATRICK:(spewing forth dribbles of saliva and plastic cup bits, while starting to stand up) What in the name of!! That does it! I qu..
AUNT MOIRA: (soothingly) Fortunately, we’ll still have time to make the final Christmas Eve service.
UNCLE PATRICK: (checked and quieted, returns to a sitting position)
COUSIN SEAN:Not to worry, Uncle Patrick. You can protect yourself against the attack easily enough. (Casting an anxious glance at Aunt Moira.)Don’t worry, Liam won’t ask him a question. He will reveal the first three numbers of a sequence. This is the “attack.” Provided that Uncle Patrick can determine the fourth value in that sequence, he will thwart the attack and continue unharmed. Make sense?
LIAM: I’ll be easy on you, Uncle, as you are not experienced with interstellar combat. Ready?
UNCLE PATRICK produced some sort of sound.
LIAM: Good. Now, here is my attack. First value is 2, then 4, and then 6…..the fourth value of the sequence is…
UNCLE PATRICK: (raising an eyebrow) Eight?
LIAM:WRONG! I’m sorry, Uncle, but the correct answer is 288. You see,in this particular sequence I developed, the fourth value is the sum of the cubes of the first three values. Isn’t that clever?
COUSIN SEAN: (visibly disgruntled) You’ve been rifling under my mattress again.
LIAM:(defiantly)Yeah,and imagine how soiled and corrupt I became when finding nothing but those issues of the American Journal of Mathematics.
COUSIN SEAN: (grunts)
LIAM:So,then, I am terribly sorry, Uncle, but having failed to thwart my attack,your vessel’s integrity is breached. (Reaches over and swipes Uncle Patrick’s $100 bills) This is for repair costs.
UNCLE PATRICK: What?!
LIAM:(Swipes Uncle’s $500 bills) and this is shameless looting by the attack crew. Due to damages inflicted, your vessel is disabled for four turns,allowing the crew enough time to assemble and fire their laser catapult. (reaches over and snaps Uncle Patrick’s left ear and nose) Slavery is wrong!
COUSIN SEAN: Ew! Two direct hits. (To Aunt Moira) I thought he said he was good at Monopoly…
UNCLE PATRICK clamored up frantically, using one hand to cover his ear and the other to nurse his nose.
LIAM(shouting at Uncle Patrick as he stumbles clumsily for the kitchen.) Hey, Uncle,if you quit now, we’re not going to let you play next time!
COUSIN SEAN: Yeah, even if you beg….
Meanwhile, up in the bedroom….
A poet once said that wind chimes were the one instrument enabling mortals to hear air’s music: the secret tones that were the special reserve of the mythical folk who nestled in the hidden places, practicing their silver magic and eschewing all human company. Lying on the bed, with the wind chimes gently whispering, I could almost envision a member of this unseen brotherhood standing on the crystalline ice pastures beyond the bedroom window. Perhaps under Christmas Eve’s warming spell, this creature looked for once with pleasure at our human dwelling. Maybe it saw the glimmer of unexpected benevolence in the candle lit glow of nearby homes and towering church steeples. Drawn by a curiosity that it had always previously quelled, this being may have even moved slowly toward our home, cleaving to the mad hope that its feared occupants might offer fellowship instead of menace. At first, its steps would be tentative, and then more assured as its advance met no resistance. It might feel so empowered that it would wander up to the wind chimes and then onto the window sill, to peer kindly into this suddenly welcoming room of protective giants and soft moon shadow. And, as it perched upon the window, sitting gently upon crossed legs, it would hear the stampede-like reverberation of two human feet and Uncle Patrick’s despairing cry. “Where’s my gun at?!”
It dread of humans once again and forevermore restored, it would flee at once for the distant sylvan corners, to its welcoming community of elusive earth spirits.
Being tired, I decided not to follow, but instead closed my eyes and soon fell asleep.
Merry Christmas
and Happy Holidays

