Soft Arts

A medley of “If I only had a brain,” “If I only had a heart,” “If I only had courage,” sung by my friend and taiji big brother, Gene Burnett.

A few days ago my friend Brett Kelly posted Seven Things You Didn’t Know About Me on his blog, and named me as someone he’d like to see a follow-on post from.

Okay Brett, this one is for you.

1. I grew up in Alaska

Although I was born in Seattle, my parents moved to Anchorage before my first birthday. I grew up with a profoundly handicapped step brother, knew quite a bit of sign language, and most of the handicapped kids in Anchorage by association.

We had a cabin at Big Lake, where I swam, water skied, and jet skied almost daily during the summer, and snow machined during the winter. Our family had a Cessna in a private slip at Spenard Lake, similar to the one shown above.

Anchorage had a very big budget for education, so I was able to spend most of my time glued to the Apple ][s in our junior high school computer lab. Most of my friends and I were in EISI, which was a very novel and life changing program for gifted students.

At this time of my life I was an avowed carnivore and spent a lot of time outdoors. My biological father moved to Ninilchik, and I spent a lot of time tramping around the bush with him and my grandfather, hunting birds and moose, and fishing for halibut and salmon.

2. I went to art school

I am a third generation musician on both sides of my family and, after several years of playing trumpet in Alaska, I eventually shifted my focus to the guitar.

By the time I finished high school I had been accepted as a jazz guitar major at the Cornish College of the Arts. My favorite classes were music theory, ear training and sight singing, rhythm, and piano. My music ensemble class was led by Julian Priester. My classmates included James Bergstrom, who played drums for Alice in Chains at the time, and Pete Droge.

3. I was a cook

After I dropped out of Cornish I decided that I needed a trade, so I got a job as a dishwasher at Arnie’s, a local seafood restaurant in Seattle. Over the next two years I worked my way out of the dish room, first as a prep cook, and then as the day broiler. The pan in the picture was stolen from the restaurant by one of my coworkers and given to me as a going away present.

This job is what kept me focused on my studies the second time around for college. It was, hands down, the worst job I have ever had. On the bright side, success at the job required phenomenal organization, time management skills, and laziness - all of which have served me well in my professional life.

Arnie’s is also where I met my friend Grace, who would introduce me to my future wife about 10 years later.

4. I came very close to majoring in theoretical mathematics

In 1992, Robin Graham, one of my math professors at the University of Washington, sponsored my admission to a 3 week Regional Geometry Institute held in Park City, Utah. I studied conformal mapping, hyperbolic geometry, and got my first hands on experience with NeXT computers, particularly with Mathematica.

It was becoming very apparent that I was much more passionate about pure mathematics than engineering or applied math. My alternative schedule for fall quarter consisted of 4 senior level mathematics courses and introductory Russian, and I half-hoped that my application to the Aeronautics and Astronautics department would be declined. It was accepted, though, and the picture above was on display at Guggenheim Hall (the aeronautics and astronautics building) in the class photos for two years.

5. I have wrecked shit on other planets

My first job after grad school was at Lockheed Martin Astronautics, developing onboard software for the Mars Climate Orbiter, the Mars Polar Lander, and Stardust.

Both MCO and MPL crashed and burned at Mars. The Stardust mission was successful, but another mission we worked on (Genesis, pictured above) crash landed back at earth after completing its mission.

Most of the software that I wrote for MPL and MCO was reused on the 2001 Mars Odyssey orbiter, the Mars Phoenix lander, and the Spitzer Space Telescope

6. I am obsessed with the laws of nature

I am obsessed with laws of nature, particularly body forces like gravity and magnetism. Forces like this are easily described, but very poorly understood. Gravity and inertia are incredibly unlikely and non-intuitive, but most of us accept them unquestioningly as a part of our everyday lives.

Knowing why objects resist acceleration may be the key to developing scifi concepts, like inertial dampers or antigravity. Bows and arrows were used long before the principles of motion were understood, but I’m certain that understanding how these phenomena work will get us closer to harnessing them for our own use.

7. I am deeply interested in energy research

My master’s degree was focused on advanced propulsion and energy conversion, and I have a strong interest in energy research, both for spacecraft propulsion and domestic energy resources.

Both fields are going to need serious game-changers, likely including nuclear fusion technology and antimatter systems. Another area of interest, that I’d like to do future work on, involves the consequences of adoption, including pollution, susceptibility to sabotage, potential disaster and disaster recovery scenarios, etc.

Note: I am posting this entry to answer some questions I’ve gotten from people on twitter. This is not an attempt at prosteletyzing: I hate it when people get preachy about food. Your diet is your business, and you’re awesome.

My wife and I been vegetarians for about 20 years and, like many of others, my diet has become *really* carbohydrate intensive. As time goes on, it becomes very easy to focus on bread, rice, and pasta instead of a healthier, more balanced diet.

The long term results of this diet, coupled with a high tech, sedentary life style are obesity and, with alarming frequency, diabetes.

I’ve been trying to find a convenient mindset that will allow me to rapidly decide what to eat. Moderation doesn’t work for me: things tend to spin back out of balance pretty quickly as soon as work gets busy. The easiest way for me to meet my nutritional goals is to pick an immersive lifestyle that maps closely to them.

I know that a lot of raw vegans feel that uncooked food is nutritionally superior to cooked ones, but for me, this is a simple, pragmatic choice. Going raw immediately eliminates all of the bread, pasta, chips, and other crap that typically constituted the bulk my diet and replaces them with a highly desirable but rarely seen combination of raw fruits, nuts, and vegetables.

1973 (5 Years Old)

On the old farm, back behind the house. Going inside the chicken coop with you, looking at the birds sitting on their boxes of straw. A gentle prodding from you to reach under and take out some eggs. They won’t let me! They squawk and peck at my little hands when I try to touch them.

The memory of this, fond and scary all at once, sticks with me viscerally for decades.

1975 (7 Years Old)

At the new house in Sedro Wooley. Grandpa Harvey is gone now. We all say “this was more merciful,” but no one is relieved. We’re all saddened by his passing. Saddened by the passing his mind made first. And scared.

1977 (9 Years Old)

Conconully bible camp. My road trip alone with you in your green toyota. My constant, stereotypical query of “are we there yet?” You have no trouble with the drive but it’s obvious, even to my young eyes, that hosting the trip for a little boy is trying your patience and energy.

The camp has the best rope swing in the history of the known universe. In another ten years I’ll take my friends here on a road trip and everyone will agree that it was amazing for years after that.

I use the swing. I get baptized. I lose our family bible in the reservoir. I get a crush on a girl, learn songs, meet the camp caretaker that remembers my uncle John so fondly. I start thinking about becoming a priest myself. What an amazing experience.

1978 (10 Years Old)

Between my deadbeat dad and my abusive stepfather, no one has ever tried to teach me to play ball. You visit us in Alaska and help me break in my baseball mitt by running it over several times with my mom’s car. Then you play catch with me in the driveway every night until you go back home.

Further on

As years go by, you shift from being a spiritual force in our life to an honorary matriarch. We all pay our respects to you. You seem more tired and world weary.

Eventually you become a treasured source of stories, of family history and where we came from, rather than just a source of inspiration in the now. You tell us about your life at Seattle Pacific University as a young student. About meeting Grandpa Harvey, and about how shocked you were when he decided to buy a farm in Concrete, Washington.

Lisa and I have our own baby. You hold Isaac in your arms, and when we comment on how comfortable he looks there, you wryly say “I’ve done this a few times before, dears…” we flush with embarrassment, realizing you’ve had six birth children and foster children even beyond that.

One day I tell you how much Isaac loves music, and you say “we all do. I’ve always said I’ve got music in my soul.” Lisa and I feel closer to you than ever.

Then one day, at some unremarkable family gathering, you ask me “who’s child are you?” for the first time. I answer “Dellie’s.” You frown, deep in thought, and say “And your name is…?” and I reply “I’m Danny, Grandma.” You think for a few palpable seconds and then your face lights up. You say “Oh, Danny! You were always such a sweet boy! I remember when I got to take you to bible camp when you were little.”

I know what is happening. I try not to cry while I’m talking to you.

Coda

Now you’re in hospice care, on morphine, past 95 years old. I don’t even know if you’ll *know* me anymore. When I saw you a month ago, you remembered me after a bit, but wanted to lay down and sleep after an hour or so. I felt so bad for you. It was your birthday party, but it clearly wasn’t being held for you. And I think it required too much of you.

I’m told to expect the call soon. I’m going to scrap my plans tomorrow and see you. I hope that I get a chance to let you know that you’re loved and that, if you need to, you can go. I feel stingy but I don’t want you here just to please us, either.

I love you, grandma. Please be at peace. How could the world ever replace you?

-Danny