Fellowship and a winter storm - what, in mid-January, could be better than that? I spent the morning in a meeting for the school system's Citizens Financial Advisory Committee; like always, it was as informative as it was fraternal. Driving to the office was a journey to remember. Outside, it's a blustery fifteen degrees, four inches of white on the ground and counting. These are the days you can enjoy in the moment while adding to your appreciation for spring when it arrives. Such beauty.

Remember the famous National Geographic photograph of the Afghan girl? The photographer found her again, seventeen years later.

Busy - wouldn't you know? Something interesting's bound to find its way on today, but not at the moment. In the interim, stuff yourself with dreams made reality as Spirit begins its exploration of the Martian surface. Now things ought to get interesting. Opportunity lands in eleven days.

One more bit of trivia, analogous to my computer blogging yesterday: my father introduced the first standalone PC to the engineering department of the Greater Cleveland Regional Transit Authority in 1984. Said a coworker, pricelessly, "256 kilobytes of memory? Why so much?"

Just in case you're, uh, singing the Saddam-capture spoof lyrics when the first track of Music for the Masses plays, I changed the title and outro litany. Having whipped the first set together in about fifteen minutes, I don't think one adjustment is too bad.

WHILE WE'RE TALKING MODE: Do you have the extended tracklist for Masses? You know "Pleasure, Little Treasure"? The first group of reversed yells, moans and groans in the instrumental outro is goof-off footage by none other than Tears for Fears, made during recording for their 1986 smash hit, Songs from the Big Chair, and used by producer Dave Bascombe for track four of that album, "Mothers Talk." It sounds like Roland Orzabel leading a group of people in the studio chanting "Hey, oi, oi, oi, oi" several times with Roland suggesting afterward, tongue firmly implanted in cheek, "Print that, print that." Bascombe, of course, helped produce Masses with Mode one year later - and probably slapped in the spaced-out track to fill up space.

For the past couple of days I've been collecting specific airports' accident data from the National Transportation Safety Board's website. I'd never make a good coroner; I try not to read the reports for fatal crashes. I tend not to spend much time absorbing the non-fatal wrecks, either, as they're nearly all forehead-smackingly caused by pilot error. Like this one:

On August 4, 1997, about 0100 eastern daylight time, a Piper PA-28R-200, N33341, was substantially damaged during a forced landing to the Ashland Airport, Ashland, Ohio. The certificated private pilot and two passengers were not injured. Night visual meteorological conditions prevailed for the personal flight which last departed from Wheeling, West Virginia, about 2345. No flight plan had been filed for the flight which was conducted under 14 CFR Part 91.

In the NTSB Pilot/Operator Aircraft Accident Report, the pilot stated:

"...The Ashland (3G4) beacon was in sight northwest of our position and 7 miles as we descended through 3,400' for the pattern of 2,000'.

Just as I picked up the mike to turn on the runway lights, the engine stopped. I dropped the mike & switched from left to right tanks and turned on the fuel pump - the engine started and ran (approx. 20 in mp) for about a minute and a half - then stopped again.

During this activity, the aircraft descended to 2,200' MSL. I glanced out the left side of the windshield while clicking the mike for the lights. The runway was off to my left front - I chose to land on runway 18 and turned left to head for the approach end with gear and flaps extended - so as to lose the altitude. As I headed toward the runway in a slip I realized my speed was too high for a safe landing on the runway and decided to land under control straight ahead."

Examination of the airplane by an inspector from the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA), disclosed that 72 ounces of fuel was drained from both fuel tanks. The main landing gear had been torn from the wings, and both wings were buckled with wrinkles and popped rivets.

The Piper PA-28R-200 had a useable fuel capacity of 48 gallons, with 2 gallons (256 ounces) of unusable fuel.

According to reports from the FAA, the airplane had been filled with fuel on July 31, and did not fly again until the evening of August 1. The pilot departed Ashland, and flew to Wheeling, West Virginia, and then onto Lewisburg, West Virginia. While at Lewisburg, the airplane was not serviced. The pilot departed, about 2200, on August 3, for the return trip to Ashland, with an intermediate stop at Wheeling. The hobbs meter indicated that the airplane had been operated for 4.9 hours since the last refueling.

The National Transportation Safety Board determines the probable cause(s) of this accident as follows:

The pilot's improper fuel management which resulted in fuel exhaustion and loss of engine power.

All together, now: D'oh!

Now, don't misunderstand me and think that the Spirit rover on Mars hasn't grabbed my interest. In a funny coincidence, I opened up a text on geology two weeks ago and in free time since have been acquainting myself with the wonderful world of silicate minerals as described in early chapters. What can speak volumes of Mars' past and present? Geologic conditions, that's what. So I've done a little peeking and stumbled on this article, which would have been a mouthful of technical rock-talk had I not done a little preliminary reading. Because I have, it's only partially overwhelming, and otherwise tonic for the imagination. Feldspar! Olivine! Aqueous mineralization!

In turn, that's raised my expectations for Spirit - the media blitz of these initial snapshots will be far from the most interesting finds of the mission.

You may have noticed the addition, in early December, of four music albums towards the bottom of my right-hand column. I'm far more of a musician and aficionado than a bookworm; not to mention the library books through which I'm poring at the moment (a college geology text, a Marshall Plan account and some Japanese culture queries) are neither widely appealing nor likely to be found on Amazon. My tastes in music, however, would translate well to my small circle of readership. So why not share? I'll change them at least once a month, reflecting my preferred seasonal choices rather than a totally random assortment. With luck, I'll bring someone back to a neglected record or else expand readers' horizons; my holdings in classical and world music would have the best chance of doing so. And though many of the pop albums are well known, not everyone may actually own a copy or have ever listened to it all the way through.

If you have a little spending cash and are looking to broaden your CD cabinet, by all means - try one of these. If loaning works just as well, your local library will do.

Ever type out a word from your former life for a search engine? Ever find a surprising, pleasing return? I just did both - I entered the phrase "pregnant rat," which just happens to be the name of a faux-artsy, improvisational, complete-joke death metal band for which I "played" back in college. I introduced it earlier this year. What I didn't quite realize was that one of the guys in the local faux-artsy, improvisational, complete-joke music scene posted a site (over four years ago!) chronicling shows spanning about eighteen months. The "Noise Scene." Give the shows' fliers a good look - they're the work of another Noise Scene fellow, the inimitable Carl Diehl.

I was pretty good at the art myself, especially when touches of chic nihilism were still in vogue and I didn't mind dabbling. (Cripes, were those the days - glad they're over.) Then again, Carl wins out: nobody can top Punk's not dead, but we're working on it.

I came to the office to finish some work, and put some legwork into the Christmas essay; I should have it done by tomorrow, Wednesday at the latest. Nothing to see here - yet. While you're waiting, take a gander at Zeyad's latest photographs of Basra.

Wonderful holiday finishing with a wonderful weekend - which means I've got quite a few tales wrapped up. I should have a decent accounting, in essay form, sometime soon. Oh, it was fun. Tomorrow, perhaps, if I'm quick with my work, as I return to the office (but News Year's is off, and a half-day on the Eve).