Memorial Day

We've all seen the movies and TV shows meant to remind us of the 'real meaning' of Christmas. But what about Memorial Day?

Bit of trivia for you: the reason cemeteries came to resemble parks is once upon a time, people packed a picnic and made a day of it at the bone yard on Memorial Day. They didn't just put flowers on Aunt Myrtle's grave, they played a bit of croquet and ate cold fried chicken, potato salad and apple pie by her headstone.



Which, in my mind's eye, is an Addams Family thing to do.

Anyway, my big plan for Memorial Day was to take the honyocks to the Kemper Museum and then go bowling. I have three free game coupons about to expire, and it's been an age since we did the Lebowsky thing. But neither kiddo was interested in bowling, and come to find out, the Kemper is closed Mondays.

We still mugged with the spiders. But it was a short visit. Really short.

But what had started as a rainy day turned bright and sunny, and we hit the park. I guess we're in a rut with our rockets and kites, but there's worse ruts.


Memorial Day 2008 from Chixulub on Vimeo.

We originally figured kites, but when we got to Shawnee Mission Park, the flags were laying against the poles. And when I asked Mo what she wanted to do (Em had made it plain that she didn't want to do anything with this huge liability called her family), Mo said she wanted to launch rockets.



So we did.

One of the hard core kite guys did show up and get some kites in the air. He specifically flew ultralight kites that are idea for low winds. Em had given up, by this point, with keeping the smiley face up in the air.



We flew hot, biggest engine a given model would support. It was straight up flying weather. Flew Mr. Creosote twice on E9's, Hatful of Hollow on a C6, Thor's Candycane on an Apogee D10 composite. Which I screwed up on.

The copperhead ignitor needs to be all the way to the top of the motor. I don't pretend I understand, physically, why this is so but I know it's true. You light the top of the fuel grain and it comes right up to pressure and WOOF! Light the bottom and it might not even fly.



The problem is the nozzle on a D motor is so small, it's hard to get the ignitor in at all. And apparently, while I thought I'd got it in, I must have got it most of the way there, snagged on the fuel grains and crumpled the ignitor. So it went through probably a third to a half of its total impulse (and expensive impulse it is), sputtering on the pad. Could have been worse: worst case scenario you use so much fuel on the ground that when it does take off it lawn darts before the ejection charge.



Kandy-Kolored Tangerine-Flake Streamline Baby almost got lost, too. He tipped coming off the launch rod and really angled off. We hiked off to find him, and luckily spotted him as a bystander picked him up. What makes someone think a rocket lands in a park and nobody is looking for it? If they'd left it alone, we'd have found it quickly. If we hadn't seen them pick it up and take it over by their picnic table, we might never have seen it again.

I mean, it has a parachute: if we didn't want it back, why wouldn't we just let it smash into the ground? I understand the dude who picked up Thor's Candycane last week: he thought it had been there for days in all likelihood. But this rocket was still hot. I'm pretty sure the people saw it land.



Anyway, to get back to the kite guy: I kind of knew the answer when I asked who was on the rectangular kite he was flying.

'It's my mother,' he said, very matter-of-fact. 'When she was alive, she always wanted to go see the pretty kites fly, so I try to get her out with them every once in awhile.'




I hadn't even thought about the fact that it was Memorial Day.

For the record, I don't want to be buried in a cemetery. My remains need to be donated to science, for real. Let some med school student carve me up. Take whatever organs you want, then dispose of whatever is useless in the cheapest way possible. I'm serious: do not spend a bunch of money on the funeral industrial complex as a way of honoring me. I'd be honored if those jackals don't get a dime off my demise.



But a kite of me? Or better yet a model rocket. A batch of homebrew. A bebop gig in a night club. These are truly tributes. Screw flowers on a grave. This guy flying the picture of his late mother, he has the true spirit of Memorial Day if anyone ever has.

Another crew of rocketeers came out to relieve us right when we were packing up. I'd have been fine with launching a few more, but the girls would have mutinied.





Before we left the park, we went over and watched a guy fly an RC airplane. He was an ace, did all kinds of crazy aerobatics. Then after he landed, got a wheel caught in a rut on the runway and busted his landing gear.