About Me

Pearl City, HI, United States
Husband, father, grandfather, friend...a few of the roles acquired in 69 years of living. I keep an upbeat attitude, loving humor and the singular freedom of a perfect laugh. I don't let curmudgeons ruin my day; that only gives them power over me. Having experienced death once, I no longer fear it, although I am still frightened by the process of dying. I love to write because it allows me the freedom to vent those complex feelings that bounce restlessly off the walls of my mind; and express the beauty that can only be found within the human heart.

Monday, September 20, 2021

Homo Sapiens 3.0?

 

(Image credit: T.H. Jarrett (IPAC/SSC))
The observable universe, out to about 380,000 light years.
The entire universe is estimated at 94 billion light years across.


Copyright © 2021
by Ralph F. Couey
except where otherwise credited.

I came across a fascinating book by Dr. Michio Kaku, he of the wizened smile topped by a cloud of wavy white hair, and who is a frequent sight on science programs.  This book, entitled "The Future of Humanity," an arresting title to be sure, is a science-based glimpse into what our species could become in the coming millennia.  I appreciate that he doesn't make any value-based judgments or use thundering oratory to condemn us to our eventual self-destruction.  Books about the future without that are difficult to find.

In the book, Dr. Kaku discusses what evolution and technological enhancements might occur as we voyage into the far future.  His focus is on our ability to voyage ever further into space to explore the sun's family of planets, even reaching out to the Kuiper Belt and the Oort cloud, repositories of comets reaching nearly half the distance to the closest star.  Trying to plan and execute such voyages runs up against two brick walls, the incredible distances involved, and the fragility of humans.

During the heyday of the Space Race, we all just assumed that once we reached the moon, going to Mars would be the next step, just a few years off.  What we've learned since is how dangerous a place space is, and the multitude of hazards that exist.  

The obvious one is collision.  There are a lot of objects whizzing around out there, most of which are pretty small.  But even a grain of sand slamming into the side of a spacecraft at 10,000 mph would likely end such a mission in disaster.  Secondly, space is full of dangerous radiation, most coming from our very own sun.  The normal radiative flux is dangerous enough to humans. Occasionally the sun enters a more rambunctious "mood" and flings enormous flares off of its surface, sending planet-sized clouds of charge particles flying through the Solar System.  The Apollo astronauts were extremely fortunate to have not been on the moon during one of these events.  The effects would have been deadly.  For a crew sailing enroute to the planets, the danger is very real.  The current solution is to encase the spacecraft in a girdle of water, which has the ability to stop such intrusions.  

Monday, September 06, 2021

Making Plans. Yeah. Right.

Another glorious sunset...

It's been a busy few weeks, as my lack of attention to this site has demonstrated.  Not that I have millions of people out there hanging on my every word, but as I have learned over the years, writing is good for the soul.

We went to Denver and cleared out the storage unit, donating a pickup truck load of mostly clothes I'm way too small to wear now.  The moving company boxed up what was left, and the load has started the long journey to what has become our new(est) home.  

This has created a break point for us.  In the three years since we came to Hawai'i, it was always the plan to return to the Mainland (which is our term for the continental U.S.) at some point.  Having that storage unit there was a kind of promise that we would be back.  Now, that promise has been broken.  Having swallowed what feels like the world's second-largest mortgage, we are committed to staying here for the foreseeable future.  That's not a bad thing, necessarily.  We're both making enough to meet our expenses and continue to put money away for our retirement, whenever that day comes.  As long as we both work, we're good.  But if the day comes when one of us "has had enough," then we could be in a wee bit of a pickle.  

It's difficult to plan the unplannable.  If our recent history has proven to us, whatever we try to plan long-term, circumstance...or perhaps fate...has had a way of rendering plans irrelevant.  In defense, we've learned to be flexible; nimble on our feet to meet these new circumstances as they occur.  I suppose that could be called a strength.  What it is, is stressful.

We were able to spend time with our daughters in Denver, along with those two precious grandkids, who are growing up entirely too fast.  They are the kids of the COVID generation, growing up in the middle of one of the most serious public health crises in our history.  What stories they will tell their grandchildren!  

I think it's important to step back from the pressures of life and take a moment to appreciate the power of this historical moment.  It is a time to record our stories so that future generations looking back can uncover not just the large-scale facts, but the very human stories that we can leave to them.  I remember the impact of a book I read about the Dust Bowl, "The Worst Hard Time."  I can recount in general the facts of that meteorological and ecological disaster, but its important to know how those years affected the people caught in the middle.  So, I would encourage you to record your stories in a journal, or a blog, or somewhere where your great-great-grandchildren can access them and know in a very personal way what it was like to live during a pandemic.