Fall is in the air.

Saturday, September 22, 2012, is the autumnal equinox, the start of what we call the season of fall or autumn.

In the Northern Hemisphere, autumn marks the transition from summer to winter, from hot then warm weather to cooler and cold weather. Get that long underwear out and ready, the cold winds they’ll be a blowin’. “It’s cold out their today, Campers,” to combine and steal a line from the movie “Groundhog’s Day,” when that clock stuck on that same day for ever and ever — a great movie, if confusing, but back to autumn and fall and their own origins and confusions.

The word “autumn” derives from the Latin “autumnus,” but the origins of this Latin term are not clear. Some scholars suggest the original Latin derived from terms meaning dry or even reddish, indicating the color of the leaves during this period, perhaps as observed by the original Etruscans, who would probably know but are a long way back to ask. For us, it is the harvest time of year, a dry time when reds, browns, oranges and yellows tint the leaves and fields in a palette of colors.

Before the 16th century, most people worked or were close to the land and referred to the season simply as “harvest,” as that word was pronounced in the particular vernacular of their countryside. “Frank, take that straw our of your mouth and get back to work on the harvest.” It’s what people did that time of year and depended on for the rest. So the season became the name of the primary activity that was being, or was supposed to be being, conducted, harvest.

As folks moved off the open land to live in the growing towns, they learned their letters and took up other pursuits. To their more refined manners and activities, the agrarian reference to harvest in the local language became old-fashioned and unsophisticated. In time, harvest was replaced by the broader and more recognized autumn and by the more descriptive and colorful fall.

In the England of the 1600’s, the use of the term “fall” apparently derived from a contraction of the Middle English expressions “fall (dropping) of the leaf” and “fall (declining) of the year.” It was a bit of seasonal penmanship to write into four simple letters (fall) what is seen in the leaves dropping and observed in the year’s ending and the daylight diminishing. So fall it was, or autumn if you preferred.

Some preferred to leave and migrate to the Americas. When they did, they took with them in their fall from grace back home the more homey and comforting term fall for their season in the new land. Overtime, fall became obsolete in Britain and the more common reference over here in the United States.

Harvest, Autumn, Fall — whatever the name, it is a wonderful time of the year. To watch the colored leaves dance across the sidewalk and pull the jacket up closer around the ears in the bright crisp cold is a welcome change of season that brings a happy smile and an excitement of imagination in the anticipation of things yet to come.

Happy Harvest, Autumn and Fall,

Grandpa Jim

Two brothers who can’t get along, their sons and a young horse, a thoroughbred, a “hunter,” not a farm horse. So the play “War Horse” starts on a stage setting as surprising as the story that enfolds within it. The horse transforms into a majestic mount and a dedicated companion of surprising capabilities who leads the sons to war. What happens after and to the end is the stuff of story, and I would not spoil that for you. It is a journey into new lands, places and friends for you to enjoy.

“War Horse” was first a 1982 children’s novel by Michael Morpurgo. Michael lives in the village of Iddesleigh to the southwest in Devon, England. His appears an amazing writer’s life and is worth a peek. One granddaughter and her mom read the book and remember it well.

After the book was the stage adaption by Nick Stafford. The play opened in London in 2007. From there, it moved to New York where it received the Tony Award for Best American Play in 2011. I saw the touring version yesterday in Dallas. That granddaughter and mom have tickets and can’t wait.

Somewhere along the road a famous Hollywood director sat and watched Joey gallop by. “Joey” is the name of the young horse who grows and goes to war. Steven Spielberg released the movie “War Horse” on Christmas Day, 2011. The movie was nominated for six Academy Awards, including Best Picture. It did not win. My granddaughter and her mom enjoyed it greatly. I plan to watch, after experiencing the play.

Horses have long been brought to war. Books have long been brought to plays, and plays to screen not as long but often now. Books and plays and screen are the safe environs of modest entertainment. War is not and never will. Rememberers write and script and film for us to remember, wipe a tear and raise a sad smile wishing that it were not, but thank you all for showing us that it was so.

May the eyes of the past guide your journey home,

Grandpa Jim

“Find a place where trouble isn’t.” Aunt Em is miffed when she says something like this to Dorothy in the opening sequence of the 1939 motion picture “The Wizard of Oz.”

Dorothy walks away and says to her pup, “Do you suppose there is such a place, Toto? There must be. It’s not a place you can get to by a boat, or a train. It’s far, far away. Behind the moon, beyond the rain . . .” What happens next is quite amazing, and it was cut from the original film but reinstated. Judy Garland, Dorothy, starts singing what is viewed by many as the #1 song of the 20th Century.

Today, my favorite parts are these: “Somewhere over the rainbow way up high, there’s a land that I heard of once in a lullaby. Someday I’ll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me. Where troubles melt like lemon drops . . .” And, she did wake up in that far-away land. Down the yellow brick road, Dorothy walked, skipped and sang with the Tin Man, Scarecrow and Lion in the land of lemon drops to find that troubles there were there. She worked hard and helped her friends, and after all discovered that the answer was always with her, the ruby red slippers. “Wish for what you want, you can make it happen,” that kindly Wizard said, in my paraphrase. And, she did and off she went.

“Toto, we’re home. Home! And this is my room, and you’re all here. And I’m not gonna leave here ever, ever again, because I love you all, and – oh, Auntie Em – there’s no place like home!”

There’s no place like home. With all its own troubles, there’s still no place like home. Sometimes, we need to be lifted way up like Dorothy into the clouds so high to see that there is no land that’s trouble free, and where we need to be is where we are at. I wish with all my heart there were no troubles. I wish there was somewhere over the rainbow that’s trouble free, but I know while we’re here there isn’t that. My comfort is Dorothy finding the answer right there on her own two feet. Her feet and her persistence led Dorothy to find courage, answers and heart for those she loved and for herself. Her efforts led her home.

Somewhere over the rainbow is, I think, right here at home.

May you find courage, answers and heart.

There’s no place like home.

Grandpa Jim

Pluto has been demoted.

It’s true. These things take some time to circulate around, but the reports are accurate and precise. The news has reached Earth and the other planets. Pluto is no longer a planet. It is now grouped with a diminished band of dwarf planets.

In 2006, in Prague, Czech Republic, the International Astronomical Union (IAU) voted on the planets. By a clear majority, but with significant dissent, those scientists turned their heads to the heavens, spied the nine planets and approved a new definition of “planet” for our solar system. Pluto, where are you, boy?

Under the new definition, a planet must have three character traits: 1. It must orbit our sun; 2. It must be round; and 3. it must dominate its neighbors. Pluto is round and orbits the sun, but, in the eyes of those visionary viewers, Pluto does not dominate its neighbors. This exclusionary criteria apparently is satisfied because Pluto does not sufficiently clear a way through the asteroids, comets and other debris along its path.

Poor little Pluto’s orbit is a bit untidy. In its way, it resembles the yard around a dog’s house. Toys, bowls and bones are turned and scattered about. You’ve seen the picture in the children’s book — the dog house and the friendly homey littered backyard.

Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck call from their rickety old car. Pluto, the true companion, runs and jumps into the rumble seat. They’re off on a new adventure. No time to tidy up. Who would want to? Fun is on the way.

One of my favorites is “The Haunted House.” It’s so spooky and scary and shivery. At the end, the three ghosts are chasing Mickey and Donald. Pluto sees something. That ghost has on a pair of shoes!  Pluto rushes over, pulls off the sheet and exposes the bank robber. Singledoggedly, the lovable mutt subdues the bandits, fetches the sheriff and earns a tidy reward for his master and friend, who drive off into the sunset with Pluto in the rumble seat holding a new bone in his mouth to add to the collection back home. His surroundings may be a bit untidy, but Pluto sure dominated that gang of bad guys and brought needed order to an old house and its surroundings.

Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, Pluto — maybe we should let the first 8 planets in their order vote on #9? It is their neighborhood. Perhaps they like their backyard to be a bit untidy, a friendly homey place for their happy backdoor relative? There will always be a few scientists peering over the fence with nets in their hands ready to catch a wandering mutt and haul him off to dwarf planet pond. Who’s in charge anyway? I say let the Big Eight vote for their friend and true companion.

I think we know how those eight will vote — jump into the rumble seat, Pluto, we’re off on a new planetary adventure.

Hold on tight and enjoy the sights,

Grandpa Jim

Rhetoric, the art of argument, had its start in the courts of Ancient Greece. The Greeks understood the power of persuasion and its advantages.

“How to Win Friends and Influence People” is the title of Dale Carnegie’s 1936 bestselling self-help book. Notice that “win friends” appears first. Dale understood argument and its advantages, and he understood what argument is not.

Fighting never won an argument. Hitting your opponent with a stick does not make a friend. Beating the other side down will never lead your audience to your side. Fighting is not arguing, just as is winning is not prevailing. If done properly, arguing can be a good experience, can influence without offending or excluding and can draw people together. Persuade me and I may want to be your friend; beat me and I may never.

How can argument work for you?

Aristotle had three words for the basic tools of argument: logos, ethos and pathos. These are the stuffs of which effective arguments are made and friends are won.

Logos is argument by logic. “Do what I want because you are stupid” is not a logical argument because people are not stupid. Stick to the facts and never attack the person. “Do what I want for these documented reasons, which will also make things better for you,” is pretty good argument by logos. You have provided supporting data for your side, and you have shown how the argued outcome will help the other side. Unilateral argument is seldom effective. If the facts logically allow, make your opponent your partner. If the don’t, try another approach.

Ethos is argument by character. “Do this because you can trust me” is effective argument when the person across the table knows they can trust you. Establish a reputation for ethical behavior before you play the “me” card. Demonstrate trust before you ask for reliance. “I don’t lie” works if you first said “I can not tell a lie, it was I who cut down the cherry tree.” It may be legend, but I think George Washington understood the importance of character in convincing thirteen arguing colonies to become the United States.

And, if nothing else works, there’s always pathos, argument by emotion. Loud screaming and wiggling on the floor will work if I just saw you get hit by the library cart and I am sympathetic to your needs. It should not work if you just want your way and fall down in a temper tantrum. The key is in the word “sympathy,” which derives from the word “pathos.” If I can share in your feelings, I may sympathize and have compassion toward you, and I could favor you and want to help you. The emotions you want arguing for you are not your emotions, they’re the emotions of the folks on the other side. Ralphie’s Father in the 1983 movie classic “The Christmas Story” remembered his first BB gun, and he felt it would be pathetic if his son could not have the same experience. Thank you Jean Shepherd for writing perhaps the best picture of pathos. Play to the feelings of others and the feelings of others may work for you. “Put yourself in my boots” can be a pretty good pathos argument, especially if the other side remembers standing there holding a new Red Ryder BB Gun with a compass in the stock.

As in many things, it is often better not to go it alone. As the young Musketeer d’Artagnan announces so nobly “un pour tous, tous pour un” (“one for all, all for one”). With that, d’Artagnan joins “The Three Musketeers,” Athos, Portos and Aramis, in Alexandre Dumas’ rousing 1844 novel of adventure and comradeship. To which, rhetoric and argument stand in debate and respond with raised pens and loud voices “logos, ethos, pathos” (“logic, ethics, sympathy”). They may not win a fight, but those three working together can surely win friends and influence people.

Good arguing to you and make a new friend today,

Grandpa Jim

The trout was jumping last night.

Franz Schubert, the Austrian composer, wrote “The Trout Quintet” in 1819. He was 22. Franz died nine years later at the age of 31. In his short lifetime, Franz Schubert wrote almost 1,000 pieces of music, including 600 Lieder, a German word for a type of song setting a romantic poem to music. Because his life was so short, there was little time for the public to appreciate his work. Today, he is widely appreciated and his music is performed as often as any on our planet. Schubert died in Vienna on November 19, 1828. He was a romantic who loved songs. A friend commented after his death that he was the “King of Song.”

Listening to The Trout Quintet, I could hear and see the fish dart and flash as it played in the crystal brooklet. “Was never fish so lively, nor frolicsome as he.” But then the angler sullied the crystal water and enticed the fish to take the bait and lose its life. “And I was left lamenting, the fate of that poor trout.” Perhaps Franz could sense he was fated not to spend much time with us, so he played and frolicked in his music with an excitement and intensity that could not last long but would leave much for others.

Some stars shine bright and then are gone, too soon.

Grandpa Jim

“Space the final frontier . . . to boldly go where no man has gone before.”

For me, those are the most remembered words from the opening monologue of Star Trek, perhaps the most famous introduction in the history of television.

On September 8, 1966, 46 years ago, Star Trek, The Original Series or “TOS,” debuted with William Shatner as Captain James T. Kirk. Years later, my young son referred to the shows on rerun simply as “The Captain.” Star Trek and The Captain launched us into space, and we’ve been traveling “out” ever since.

On September 5, 1977, 35 years ago, Voyager 1 launched from Cape Canaveral, Florida. Today, Voyager 1 is the longest-operating spacecraft in history and the most distant from the Earth, and it is still heading “out.”

Voyager 1 is a gangly apparatus that weighs about as much as a Volkswagen. It looks somewhat like a transformer with the pull cord for its nuclear-powered lawnmower engine dangling out the back as its flies through space at 38,000 miles per hour (61,200 kilometers per hour). That’s fast for a Volkswagen, even a Volkswagen transformer, but space is a big place – it is “the final frontier.”

The original mission was to tour Jupiter and Saturn and send back picture postcards, which Voyager 1 did to the delight of an adoring audience back on Earth: “Did you see the card from Voyager? It is so cute.” Concerned about the growing teenage fan club and their increasing demands, Voyager 1 then used Saturn as a gravitational slingshot to catapult itself toward the edge of our Solar System and farther away from the giggles and flashing lashes.

That’s where it is right now – way out there on the very edge of the bubble that defines the region of our Sun and the planets that are captured by its gravity and rotate obediently around its center, about as far away as it can get and still call it “home.” A short message takes nearly 17 hours to reach us here on the Earth, which is a long time between “How are you?” and “Fine.”

Still, Voyager 1 was always a loner – it’s the way he was built. Besides, he had to turn off the cameras to save energy, so that teenage fan club has largely disbanded or become grandmothers. These days, a few part-time researchers stop by to check his data messages. From the changed tone of the last few communications, those gray-haired scientists tottered off smiling and mumbling, “He’s almost there.”

By today, who knows, he may have crossed over and be in interstellar space, the space between the stars, the space “where no man has gone before.”

We wish you well little guy and we are proud of you,

Grandpa Jim

Think Thoughts This Thursday, Finding Friday and the Suggestion of Saturday,

440 scientists working in 32 labs around the world for 12 years started the release Wednesday of the initial 37 papers establishing that 99% of human DNA does something. It is not junk.

DNA (deoxyribonucleic acid) is the chemical code that resides in each of your cells and determines who you are. Most DNA is in the nucleus or center of the cells, and your DNA is pretty much the same in every cell in your body. Each of your cells contains about 10 feet of DNA, coiled in a dense tangle resembling in its way a very small ball of twine. Some years ago, the Human Genome Project uncoiled the thread and mapped the entire sequence of human DNA. That project discovered that only about 1% of your DNA contains the genes which control inherited traits like eye color and blood type. At that time, the rest of the DNA was labelled “junk,” because it didn’t seem to be doing anything. Around and between the genes that did the original building of you the way you are, the scientists saw vast stretches of other DNA which looked to be just sitting there. But, was it just sitting?

The initial results of the recent round of international studies indicate that junk DNA does something. All those scientists working for all that time now believe that some 80% of our junk DNA, that junk that resides in every cell in your body, is active and needed. And, they seem to be saying that . . . it’s all a bunch of switches. The emerging thought is that all those little junk DNA switches – think of all the computer switches in the small microchip in your computer – regulate and control how our cells, organs and tissues behave on a daily basis and react to what we are doing and our environment about us.

My thinking is that we may have discovered that what we thought was junk DNA is really the keyboard and computer in each of our cells plugged into the Internet of cellular computers and servers in our whole body. Keep eating a high-fat diet, and those little computer switches start our metabolic equipment working more efficiently to process the fat. Don’t get enough exercise, and our think-tank switch yards send out the signals to the endocrine system to manufacture more stimulants and to the circulatory system to increase blood flow to keep the tracks running and the deliveries of nutrients and pep pills on time. Keep going with bad diet and poor exercise, and you overload the switches, they break down, systems crash, screens go blue and disease results.

In the paper this morning, one scientist commented that “Most of the changes that affect disease don’t lie in the genes themselves; they lie in the switches.” Another further thought might be that most of the changes that affect disease don’t lie in the switches themselves, they lie in what we are asking the switches to do. Even a good switch can only do so much. It may take another 12 years and 440 scientists, but, who knows, maybe they’ll discover that diet, exercise and a happy attitude are the best ways to keep the switches working and the train on the track.

Keep chugging along and wave as you pass the station,

Grandpa Jim

Wednesday winks in wide-eyed wonder,

The moon has solstices too!!

Last night, the moon complained: “I do all this work. The hours are horrible. You can only see me when its dark, and then you hardly notice me unless I’m full or blue or putting on a special display. I’m your night light in the sky helping you find your way when the sun is taking a break. I run the tides, and I correct your moods – which goodness knows can use a nudge ot two. What do you think? I just sit up here. I move too. Why does the sun get all the attention? I’m more than a reflection, a bright face and a cheesy thought. Let’s have a little respect.”

The moon is quite correct and I deserve the lunar lecture.

The moon is different from the sun. The moon completes one orbit around us, the Earth, in 29.5 days. We, the Earth, complete one orbit around the sun in 365.25 days (don’t worry about the .25, that’s what the leap years fix). So, in a single year, the sun will reach its northern and southern extremes in the day sky — the sun solstices. In a month, the moon will be at its northern and southern extremes in the night sky. The moon does in a month what the sun does in a year. In all honesty, the moon’s monthly extremes of north and south aren’t really noticed that much (sorry, moon, but it’s the truth), probably because the moon doesn’t set the length of the day or trigger the seasons, as do the sun’s extreme movements. But, every 18.6 years, the big kahuna happens for the moon, and this is noticed and has been noticed for some time.

It is the MAJOR LUNAR STANDSTILL!!

This is the solstice of the moon, but remember “solstice” is a term reserved for the sun (“sol” is a sun reference word). So, the moon solstice is referred to as the “standstill,” when the moon is at its maximum monthly range of rising and setting directions. For the years 2005-2007, and also 2023-2026, each month the moon will rise and set more northerly and about two weeks later more southerly than the solar extremes. Sorry, we missed the last standstill and have to wait for 2023-2026 for the next. During these multi-year periods, the monthly range of lunar extremes to the north and south during moonrise and moonset varies very little. The fact of very little change in the northerly and southerly extremes is what leads to the term “STANDSTILL.”

To restate and hopefully help clarify, at MAJOR LUNAR STANDSTILL, the moon exhibits the maximum monthly range of rising and setting directions. For example, the full Moon near the winter solstice in 2005-07 rose and set the farthest north that the moon ever gets, and farther north than the sun ever gets. Moving our example six months forward, the full moon near the summer solstice in 2005-07 rose and set the farthest south that the moon ever gets, and farther south than the sun ever gets.

That moon sure has its extremes. They are even more complicated and involved than the sun’s antics.

This apparently fascinated our long-ago grandparents. Stonehenge in England is a 5,000-year-old solar and lunar calendar. Callanish, Scotland has another calendar of the same vintage. Chaco Canyon, New Mexico and Chimney Rock, Colorado both have 1,000-year-old calendars. These are all made of stones and rocks and carvings, and they not only keep track of the sun and its shenanigans, they track and record the 18.6 year cycle of our more reserved and less noticed moon. Now, that is fascinating and a wondrous glimpse back in time to how significant the sun and the moon have been and are in the changes that have brought us here to where we are today.

I appreciate both, and I stand still in honor of our night-time light, the moon. Thanks for showing us what you’re about and keeping a quiet check on our extremes.

Tonight, sneak a peek to the sky and say “Hello” to an old friend too,

Grandpa Jim

PS: Much credit is given to Dr. Judith S. Young, Department of Astronomy, University of Massachusetts, Amherst for her article ” MOON TEACHINGS FOR THE MASSES AT THE UMASS SUNWHEEL & AROUND THE WORLD: THE MAJOR LUNAR STANDSTILLS OF 2006 & 2024-25.” The basis of the standstill discussion above derives in large measure from her paper, which is an excellent and readable exposition and explanation of a complicated celestial coordination.

Tuesday Toggles and Tips Its Hat To You,

The autumnal equinox approaches. On September 22, 2012, the sun will cross the equator. When that happens, the hours of day and night will be equal. “Equinox” is Latin for “equal night,” an ancient term to describe when the night equals the day. Twice a year, in the spring and fall, there is an equinox of light and dark. The last was the spring equinox on March 20, 2012.

Since the summer solstice on June 20, 2012, the days have been shortening and the nights lengthening. On that day, the sun stopped at its farthest northernmost point in the skies of the Northern Hemisphere and headed back south. That traveling old sun will arrive at its southernmost point down there in the Southern Hemisphere in time for the winter solstice on December 21, 2012. That will be our shortest day and longest night. So, be prepared, it might be quite cold on that cheery winter night as we read Christmas tales under piles of covers in our warm beds, slipping off to sleep with visions of a jolly old elf piling presents under a twinkling tree.

Then, when the sun stops its southerly travels, it will look back longingly at us and head back up north again to warm and brighten our days. In between, our home star will cross the equator again on March 20, 2013, the next year’s spring equinox.

So it goes, year after year after year, and we certainly hope it does go just that way: autumn, winter, spring and summer, over and over and over again. The seasons teach us that there is a certainty in change. Change is normal and all around us. It gives us a constancy and comfort that I think prompted the poet so long ago to muse: “There is nothing new under the sun.” Thank you, Sun, and thank you for the seasons.  Our concern should not be the change the seasons teach us is our safe path, but rather when there is no change to lead us home. Change is our good friend and companion in the sky keeping an eye on us to check and see that we are changing too.

Stretch and smile and start something new,

Grandpa Jim