Twinkle, Twinkle

I just saw a meteor. I'm tempted to say that means tonight will be a lucky night, but, truth is, I see a lot of meteors, and I haven't been particularly lucky lately. Honestly, probably a month hasn't gone by in the last several years where I haven't seen at least one meteor. I attribute it to spending a lot of time looking at the stars. If I'm outside at night, I'm sure to be looking up.

When I was young, I wanted to be an astronomer. I decided this probably about the time I was in 7th or 8th grade. Somebody asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, and it was the first time the question was ever posed to me seriously. It was the first time anyone asked me and expected a genuine reply. I'd never really thought about it at the time, and I can't recall if I ever had a 'kid' answer to the question. But, when I was asked this particular time, I took a few seconds to think it over and 'Astronomer' was my answer.

It was the right answer too. I can remember looking at the stars as a very young boy. I've always been fascinated by them and have spent many hours memorizing star names and constellations. One of the earliest memories I have on my father's side of the family is attending a family reunion in Rhode Island and spending one evening stargazing with several of my uncles. Even now I'm still fascinated by astrophysics, quantum physics, and everything concerned with how the universe operates at the large and small scales.

So, from that moment forward, I wanted to be an astronomer. I held on to that and aimed in that direction through high school— though, of course, high school is not really noted for pre-astronomy training beyond general mathematics and sciences. At this point in the narrative you're probably expecting me to wonder how I lost track of that dream and confess to a certain amount of confusion. But, simply, I intentionally gave it up when I went to college the first time. I had a full NROTC scholarship and acceptance to UW in Seattle (among other schools). When it came time to choose my major, it was clear that the Navy placed more value on a Mathematics degree than it did on an Astronomy degree. In my mind I can dimly remember being counselled to choose Mathematics, but I may have come to this realization on my own. Of course, this is the beginning of the end of the story, as I soon dropped out of college, and all thoughts of being an astronomer disappeared when the possibility of a degree disappeared. To me it feels like being an aerialist and missing the swinging bar— you'll fall safely to the net, but once missed, you'll never grab that bar. There's no second grab as you fly by.

I've spent all the years since still looking up at the stars. If you're ever out at night with me, I can generally point out quite a few interesting features in the sky. And, now that the slim chance of going back to school has arisen, I toy with the idea of re-pursuing astronomy. (Mathematics is on the plate as well, as it's also a good fit for me.) However, an astronomy degree would not get me much at my age. I listen to a podcast called 'Astronomy Cast' and one of the podcasters is a working astronomer. On a recent show, when asked how hard it was to become a working astronomer, she frankly admitted that it was nigh impossible any more. She said that an astronomy degree is most useful if you want to teach astronomy, but the odds of conveying it into the occupation of astronomer were slim to none.

Tonight, FYI, is when the Lyrids meteor shower is in town. I looked this up just after seeing that shooting star earlier. If you happen to see this before the sun comes up, look in the direction of the new moon. Of course, you won't be able to see the new moon because... well, it's new.

See you again soon!

"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."— Oscar Wilde