The Udvar-Hazy Center

Last weekend we were back in the DC metro area for a family visit and a side trip out to Dulles, VA, to the Smithsonian's Air & Space Museum's Udvar-Hazy Center. This hangar-like building houses many of the large planes, helicopters, and spacecraft that the Smithsonian can't fit in the main museum on the National Mall. In particular I was excited to see the Space Shuttle Discovery, as I've been an astronomy and space exploration geek since I was a kid.

What struck me about the Shuttle is that it's big, but not that big. It looks enormous on TV and in photos. It's about the size of a medium-size passenger jet, like a commuter plane. It dominates the room in which it's housed, but it's small enough that I wondered at how NASA had crammed all of the electronics and mission equipment into the spacecraft. Even without seeing the interior, I could tell that astronauts really didn't have much room to maneuver inside it.

The other remarkable thing about the orbiter was its exterior. While the underside was covered with ceramic heat shield tiles, the upper parts of the shuttle looked like a patchwork of white quilts. For some reason I'd assumed that the ship was metallic. I hadn't realized that its upper surfaces are covered with heat-resistant fabric instead of metal. Of course, a spaceship doesn't have to be completely metallic. As long as it's airtight, you can cover the outside with fabric. Space is a vacuum.

As I walked through the museum and looked at the history of human flight, I marveled at the engineering feats it took to get us from the Wright brothers' plane to spaceflight in less than 60 years. There's a display of different aircraft engines from before WWI through the end of WWII. I hadn't considered what early mechanics and engineers had accomplished with what were little more than automobile engines adapted for airplanes.

In addition to the many photos I took of Discovery, I took far too many photos of some of my favorite planes, like the SR-71, the F-105 Thunderchief, the Concorde, and the "Enola Gay." They didn't have a Messerschmitt Me-262, one of my favorite early jet fighters, but they did have the Me-163 Komet, as well as the F-86 and MiG-15, two planes I remember well from days spent playing "Chuck Yeager's Air Combat Simulator." And I couldn't help thinking about the pointlessness of the inclusion of the X-35 Joint Strike Fighter, a plane that has yet to enter service. It's been in development for 20 years and if drone technology continues to evolve, it might never be finished. It's already a museum piece.

First impressions of Conan on "The Tonight Show"

Based solely on two shows, I like what Conan has done with "Tonight." He's transplanted his old show to LA and kept the same zaniness that he had at 12:35 AM in New York. His interview style is the same, his rapport with his guests (Will Ferrell and Tom Hanks thus far) is well established, and I love that they kept the old band and the old show theme. Having Andy Richter back as his Ed McMahon-esque announcer is a great move, partly because it's good to see Andy getting work. I loved Conan's interview with Tom Hanks. Hanks is a great sport. One of my favorite jokes on "Late Night" was an early interview with Hanks where Conan presented him with a dog skeleton that he claimed belonged to Hanks' one-time co-star, Hooch. Last night, Conan hit Hanks with a meteor, and Hanks played along, even losing a shoe in the assault.

Tom Shales of The Washington Post doesn't agree with my sentiments. He didn't like that on Conan's opening night Ferrell appeared on the show after midnight. However, I don't remember too many nights when Jay had his guest on the show before midnight. Also, Shales pointed out that Conan's opening routine in which he ran from New York to LA was accomplished via "the magic of editing." Thank you, Captain Obvious. Did anyone watching the show really think Conan ran to LA? Finally, Shales said that Conan's monologue was "weak" and that "the sooner O'Brien stops introducing himself and starts telling funny jokes, the better." Conan has never been the stand-up comedian that Jay Leno is. He acknowledges that all the time and makes fun of his lack of joke-telling skills in his monologue. His strengths have always been his sketches and taped segments and his chemistry with his guests. I thought that Shales would know that, but maybe he never stayed up late enough to watch "Late Night."

Freezing my ass off for astronomy

I remembered almost at the last minute that there was a full lunar eclipse last night, so after dinner I bundled up and hustled over to Carl Schurz Park on the East River to check it out. The last lunar eclipse I saw was in 1989 or 1990, and I camped out in front of my house in a lawn chair with binoculars, and all the neighbors thought I was either spying on them or watching for UFOs. When I got to the esplanade, I found a small crowd of fellow amateur astronomers and an assortment of telescopes. Members of the Amateur Astronomers Association of New York were there with information about what the eclipse was, how long it would last, and what other stars were visible during the eclipse. When the moon was about halfway shadowed by the Earth, Saturn became visible just below and to the right of the moon. One of the astronomers reoriented his telescope to point it at Saturn and people lined up and took turns gazing at Saturn and its rings. I'd never seen Saturn's rings before, but there they were: a little line angling through the small disk that was the planet. I could also see Titan, Saturn's largest moon, and another unidentified moon of Saturn, both of which were visible just as tiny specks. The moon itself turned a light reddish color, and through another telescope I could see seas and craters more clearly than on a full moon evening. Later, as the moon was totally shadowed by the Earth, other stars appeared over Manhattan: Sirius, Rigel, the constellation Orion, the Big Dipper, and Polaris (the "North Star"). I hadn't seen stars over Manhattan since the blackout in 2003 and while there weren't as many stars out as there had been that night, it was still a better show than we get in the city on any given night. I called Kate, who was at home in Park Slope, and she could see all kinds of stars out while the moon was obscured. I really do have to move out of Manhattan.

By 10:45 I'd been outside for about two hours, and while I was enjoying the show, I was also freezing. The total portion of the eclipse was nearly over, so I walked home as fast as my chilled legs and feet could take me. Once inside I realized I could have been watching the eclipse from my window, as the moon had risen high enough that it cleared the buildings across the street. I had a cup of hot tea and got my blood circulating again, and today I'm happy to report that I don't seem to have frostbite or any other permanent damage. The next lunar eclipse is scheduled for late 2010, and I just hope it's a little warmer. Why can't the universe schedule all eclipses for warm summer nights?