As we move ahead - (January 1, 2021)

© Mark Ollig

Well, dear readers, we made it through another trip around the sun.

Many of us managed our daily lives differently during the last year due to COVID-19.

We worked from home instead of the office, and conducted meetings with coworkers using online video teleconferencing, which kept us and others safe.

Various holidays throughout 2020 saw many folks using Zoom, Skype, Microsoft Teams, Cisco WebEx Meetings, and other online conferencing applications.

The importance of wearing a mask, washing our hands, and practicing social distancing was part of our daily lives during 2020, and continues to be as we enter 2021.

Many years ago, I was given this pearl of wisdom by someone who had been living on this planet much longer than me, “Enjoy each year, because when you get to my age, you will find the years going by much faster than they do now at your age,” the older man told me.

I was given this advice while still in high school during the 1970s.

Today, I, and no doubt many of you, very much understand how accurate his advice is.

We need to appreciate each day, and take nothing for granted.

My junior and senior high school days occurred while living in Brainerd, though I lived and worked for many years in Winsted.

I very much enjoyed my life living in the Brainerd Lakes Area.

While attending Brainerd High School, I enrolled in their AV (audio visual) TV class.

The AV class had ways of earning extra credit, including recording public service educational television programs broadcast during the evening for the school’s reference library for students to view.

Many of you may recall the introduction of home video recording machines using magnetic tape contained inside what looked like a large cassette cartridge.

In late 1975, Sony Betamax began selling tape cartridges and video recording/playback machines in the US.

Kid: “Grandpa, what is Betamax?”

Grandpa: “Think of VHS, or CD, or DVD, or Blu-Ray Disc.”

Kid: “What?”

Grandpa: “Think of the Cloud.”

Kid: “Oh, I get it.”

In the 1970s, Betamax machines and videotape cartridges were the premier videotape recording/playback system.

I spent many evenings at Brainerd High School, completing various videotape recordings. After which, I would catalog and then place these new recordings in the school’s Betamax videotape library.

The available tape lengths ran anywhere from 15 minutes (L-125) to 100 minutes (L-830).

I regularly used the 60-minute length tape (L-500).

The 3M company manufactured Betamax videotapes, in addition to Sony.

I became reasonably proficient in operating the Sony Betamax recording machine in the school’s small AV room; fortunately, the vending machines were nearby.

The audio and picture quality of those Betamax videotape recordings were pretty good.

In 1976, a new and slightly larger video-cassette tape recording format by JVC (Victor Company of Japan) came out. It was called the Video Home System (VHS).

VHS tapes used a VCR (video cassette recorder).

And so, the home videotaping system competition began between Betamax and VHS.

To my younger readers: This would be comparable to when the Blu-Ray disc came out in 2003 and competed with the DVD (digital versatile disc), which had been around since 1997.

Even though the Betamax was a smaller-sized cassette cartridge and had superior video quality, the public ended up embracing VHS tapes used with VCRs.

A VCR costs much less than a Betamax recording system, which attributed to its popularity.

I do recall one advantage VHS had over Betamax: the tapes could rewind much faster.

People began VHS videotaping shows and movies off their TV, which caused copyright disputes to become a popular discussion topic for a time.

As a youngster growing up during the 1960s, a favorite Saturday morning cartoon featured George Jetson traveling to work in his flying aero car with the transparent bubble top.

At the time, I believed people living in the future would be driving flying cars.

It is 2021. Where is my flying car?

The futuristic Jetsons lived in the year 2062, so I have another 41 years to wait.

Of course, today we have Jetson-like programable robotic house servants, such as a Roomba or RoboVac to clean the floor, so I suppose that’s progress.

Let us all continue to stay safe out there as we move ahead in 2021.

(Above clip art image right-to-use fee paid)

‘Snoopy’ is still traveling through space

© Mark Ollig

This mission was the decisive dress rehearsal taking place two months before this planet’s most historic achievement in space.

It was May 1969, and Walter Cronkite was reporting from the CBS News Apollo Headquarters in New York.

I enjoyed Cronkite’s enthusiastic and knowledgeable commentary during the televised NASA space missions.

The Apollo 10 spaceflight was the crucial test before the scheduled July moon landing of Apollo 11.

Its job was to make a run-through of all the operations and maneuvers necessary for a lunar module to land on the moon, and then rendezvous with a lunar-orbiting command module.

Apollo 10’s lunar module would not physically land on the moon; this would happen during Apollo 11.

The lunar module was going to be “snooping around” the moon’s surface, so they named the Apollo 10 lunar module “Snoopy.”

Of course, it then made sense to name the command module, the spacecraft all three astronauts rode to and from the moon in, “Charlie Brown.”

May 22, 1969, Apollo 10 had achieved an orbit around the moon. Astronauts Eugene Cernan and Thomas Stafford entered and undocked the two-stage lunar module from the command module.

With Snoopy now floating free in moon orbit, they began their descent towards the grayish lunar surface.

The command module, piloted by astronaut John Young, would continue to orbit the moon.

Snoopy tested its guidance computer, landing radar, and radio communications with Charlie Brown and Mission Control in Houston, TX.

They practiced firing the lunar module’s reaction control system (RCS) thruster quad engines, tested the lower-stage descent propulsion system, radar, and completed other procedures needed to simulate landing and taking off from the moon.

Snoopy surveyed the Sea of Tranquility, the designated landing site for Apollo 11.

Using a new color television camera system, they showed the moon’s surface to everyone back on Earth.

Snoopy would not touchdown on the moon; however, its descent rocket engine ignited during the practice landing, and the lunar module did descend to about 8.7 miles above the moon’s surface before aborting the landing.

I often wondered if the two astronauts aboard Snoopy thought about continuing the descent until they landed on the moon.

Cernan and Stafford had the lunar spacecraft to do it with, and besides, they were getting very close to the moon’s surface.

I later learned things would not have ended well if they had set Snoopy down on the moon.

If they had tried to liftoff from the moon, the lunar module’s ascent stage (the upper portion holding the astronaut’s crew cabin) did not contain enough fuel to reach a high enough orbit for a rendezvous with the command module.

Cernan and Stafford could have landed on the moon before Neil and Buzz did July 20th; however, both would find themselves marooned there.

Orbiting the moon in the command module, John Young could not attempt a rescue, and would have been the only member of Apollo 10 returning to Earth.

Of course, Snoopy did not waver from the planned mission, and the astronauts carried out and completed the practice moon landing with professionalism and skill.

Having achieved all of the low lunar orbit objectives, Stafford and Cernan fired Snoopy’s upper ascent stage rocket to gain altitude and make a rendezvous with the command module.

Snoopy’s bottom platform lander section (descent stage), having already been released from the ascent stage, slowly fell towards and crashed onto the moon.

So, a portion of Apollo 10 did make it to the moon’s surface.

They were now in the proper lunar orbit for docking Snoopy’s ascent stage module with the command module.

Cernan and Stafford had been working inside the lunar module for about eight hours.

After docking and boarding Charlie Brown, the astronauts jettisoned the abandoned Snoopy into space.

Once Snoopy’s ascent stage had drifted to a safe distance from the command module, NASA Flight Control in Houston remotely ignited its ascent rocket engine.

The controllers programmed Snoopy to travel into space, draining its remaining fuel supply.

On May 26, 1969, all three Apollo 10 astronauts safely returned to Earth.

Today, the Apollo 10 command module’s current home is at the Science Museum in London, England. See a photo at https://bit.ly/2KhCik2.

Snoopy’s crew cabin, the ascent stage, has been in a heliocentric orbit (traveling around the Sun) for the last 51 years. It is the only surviving Apollo lunar module ascent stage still journeying through space.

You may be wondering about Apollo 13’s lunar module, Aquarius, which did not land on the moon, but was instead used as a lifeboat to get all three astronauts back to Earth in April 1970.

Aquarius burned up in the Earth’s atmosphere after being jettisoned from the Apollo 13 command module, just before splashdown.

The Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum records the fate of all Apollo lunar modules here: https://s.si.edu/2K8etex.

NASA’s website lists the present location of all the Apollo command modules at https://go.nasa.gov/2WvaNpv.

Stay safe out there.

Lunar module ascent stage 'Snoopy' as it travels
 towards the command module 'Charlie Brown.'

‘I saw it in Popular Electronics’

© Mark Ollig

While considering what to write this week, I came across the world radio history website.

Its online archives contain decades-old collections of radio programming schedules and electronic hobbyist magazines, including the December 1958 issue of Popular Electronics.

How much did this magazine cost in 1958?

That’s right. It sold for 35 cents.

The magazine included electronic schematic drawings and details for constructing devices such as radios, audio stereo speakers, home alarm systems, ceiling-mounted Hi-Fi speakers, appliance testers, and other electronic goodies.

I discovered many of the magazine’s topics from 1958 are still popular today.

It is no surprise that most people believe advanced, artificially intelligent robots and sophisticated computer programs will become a regular part of our everyday lives.

It’s already happening today. Isn’t that right, Alexa?

Or, as I say to get the attention of my smart electronic assistant, “Hey, Google.”

The cover page of this December 1958 magazine reads, “Christmas Fun with Electronic Robots.”

The cover shows a painting of what appears to represent robotic parents and a toddler robot, hanging decorations on a green spruce tree inside their home.

On page 45, there is an article titled, “There Are ROBOTS Among Us.”

“Electronic robots, in one form or another, are influencing our daily lives. Are we due for an electronic revolution?” declared the subheading of an editorial written by William Tenn.

Tenn suggests some people believed having robots with human-like brains would mean they would be doing all the work while humans enjoyed a life of leisure.

His editorial goes on to express concern about robots replacing people, saying, “they might run amuck and destroy their masters. The robots will get us if we don’t watch out.”

Robots commonly appeared in many science fiction movies during the 1950s.

GORT (Genetically-Organized Robotic Technology) was the 9-foot tall, metal-plated robot that appeared in the science fiction 1951 movie, “The Day The Earth Stood Still.”

It was part of the robotic “interstellar guardian police force,” and protector of the visiting extraterrestrial, yet human-looking, Klaatu.

GORT had the power to destroy the Earth, which, of course, would cause an understandable amount of fear in any rational person.

The famous sci-fi phrase from this movie, “Klaatu barada nikto,” is still repeated today, although I am yet to understand what it exactly means.

The 1953 movie, “Robot Monster,” featured a 7-foot tall Moon robot named Ro-Man, who wore what looked like a vintage, underwater diver’s helmet.

The 1954 movie “GOG” featured two experimental robots inside a top-secret government underground research base.

The robots do a HAL (“2001: A Space Odyssey”) and sabotage the base, but the creative humans defeat the robots.

During the 1950s, one of the most famous movie robots was Robby the Robot.

This 7-foot-6-inch-tall, intimidating-looking robot, weighing around 300 pounds, was built in 1955 by the MGM (Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer) studio’s prop department. It cost $125,000.

The 1956 movie, “Forbidden Planet,” and 1957’s “The Invisible Boy,” featured Robby the Robot.

Amid all the robotic pandemonium, a friendly-looking “SPARKY the Robot Pup” was featured on page 51 of the December 1958 Popular Electronics magazine.

SPARKY the Robot Pup is a small, oval-shaped (resembles an upside-down stainless-steel cooking pot), playful-looking robot.

If you saw this cute robotic puppy posted on your favorite online social media, you would immediately click the “like” button.

Well-written instructions, with detailed diagrams for building your very own battery-powered, wheel motor-driven, steerable SPARKY (painted with appealing puppy facial features and ears), was included in the article written by Gaylord Welker.

A parts list described the electronic components needed and where one could obtain them.

One of the SPARKY parts sources listed was the Microswitch Division of Honeywell, located in Minneapolis.

I noted several advertisements in the December 1958 magazine referencing Minneapolis locations.

Baily’s School of Electronics had an ad on page 16, saying, “Electronics is the fastest growing industry in America today.”

A photograph of two electronic cabinet bays showed two technicians (presumably Baily graduates) working within its shelf wiring and circuitry.

A message beneath the 1958 photo read, “This Minneapolis-Honeywell system controls hundreds of automatic operations.”

Another Minnesota-related article describes a Model 208 VTVM (Vacuum Tube Voltmeter) under the “Tools and Gadgets” section one could purchase for $74.50 at the Seco Mfg. Co., on 5015 Penn Ave., South, Minneapolis, MN.

Schaak Electronics at 3867-A Minnehaha Ave in Minneapolis advertised “Transistor supplies, Hi-Fi amplifiers, changers, speakers, kits, and tubes.”

“Always say you saw it in – POPULAR ELECTRONICS” regularly appears on the bottom pages inside the Popular Electronics magazine.

The https://worldradiohistory.com website contains thousands of radio, television, communication, electronics, computing, and other publications.

Read the complete December 1958 Popular Electronics magazine at this shortened link: https://bit.ly/2ITeF0A.

Stay safe out there.

Hearing this still gives me chills to this day

© Mark Ollig

From 1965 to 1971, Jack King was the popular launch control commentator and head of public information at NASA’s Kennedy Space Center.

His voice will be remembered by many of us who grew up following NASA’s Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo missions.

King’s voice described the events taking place during the final minutes leading up to a NASA rocket liftoff.

I mostly remember him for his reassuring, calm, and balanced account of the proceedings taking place during the televised launch of Apollo 11.

The Apollo 11 Saturn V (pronounced “Saturn five”) rocket would, for the first time, take humans to the surface of a celestial body outside the Earth’s atmosphere, namely, the moon.

The Saturn V rocket itself was an incredible sight, standing at 363 feet and weighing 6.2 million pounds at liftoff.

Its engines produce 7.6 million pounds of thrust (the forward or upwards force), which according to NASA, would be equivalent to the power of 85 Hoover Dams, or the combined horsepower of 543 jet fighter planes.

Watching a Saturn V rocket launch back in the 1960s and early 1970s on television was very memorable.

Let’s revisit the early morning of Wednesday, July 16, 1969.

Along with my parents and siblings, who gathered together in the living room, we attentively observed the impressive-looking Saturn V rocket on our RCA color console television screen.

We listened to the confident and reassuring voice of Jack King during the final minutes before Apollo 11’s liftoff from Launch Pad 39A in Florida.

This columnist, a youngster in 1969, clearly recalls listening to King’s description of the events taking place on the television.

Television cameras focused in on the tall and impressive-looking Saturn V rocket on the launch pad as we heard Jack King say, “T minus three minutes and counting . . . T minus three. We are go with all elements of the mission at this time. We’re on an automatic sequence as the master computer supervises hundreds of events occurring over these last few minutes.”

At two minutes, five seconds before liftoff, King announced, “The target for the Apollo 11 astronauts, the moon, at liftoff will be at a distance of 218,096 miles away.”

It was now less than two minutes until liftoff.

The television screen switched between the Saturn V rocket on the launchpad, to the busy flight controllers at their console positions, inside the Mission Control room, in Houston, TX.

“We’ve just passed the two-minute mark in the countdown. T minus one minute, 54 seconds and counting. Our status board indicates that the oxidizer tanks in the second and third stages now have pressurized,” King confirmed.

Looking out the living room window, I could see a faint moon in the distance and felt the wonderment of the moment in the early morning sky.

And we go back to the live television coverage.

“T minus one minute 35 seconds on the Apollo mission, the flight to land the first men on the moon. All indications are coming into the control center at this time indicate we are ‘go,’” King confirmed.

“T minus 60 seconds and counting, we passed T minus 60. Fifty-five seconds and counting. Neil Armstrong just reported back it’s been a real smooth countdown,” King informed us.

At around 46 seconds before launch, King said with confidence, “Power transfer is complete. We’re on internal power with the launch vehicle at this time.”

“Thirty-five seconds and counting, we are still go with Apollo 11,” King continued.

The tension, along with the excitement, was definitely in the air.

It was now just seconds from liftoff, which occurred at 8:32 a.m. Central Standard Time July 16, 1969.

The following still gives me chills whenever I re-watch the launch of Apollo 11 and hear Jack King say, “T minus 15 seconds . . . guidance is internal. Twelve, 11, 10, nine . . . ignition sequence start . . . six, five, four, three, two, one, zero [huge red flames now begin billowing out of the rocket’s engines as a loud roar is heard] . . . all engines running. Liftoff! We have a liftoff! Thirty-two minutes past the hour ... liftoff on Apollo 11!”

The Saturn V rocket, slowly and majestically, cleared the tower and began its ascent into the blue Florida sky, carrying astronauts Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, and Michael Collins into history.

A NASA audio file of King describing the last 30 seconds before Apollo 11 thundered into the sky is at http://tinyurl.com/jking11.

Four-and-a-half hours of CBS television coverage of the launch of Apollo 11 (including 1969 commercials) is at https://bit.ly/36SfP5G.

John W. (Jack) King, the composed, confident, and reassuring “voice of launch control,” passed away June 11, 2015, at age 84.

Stay safe out there.

Jack King during the launch of Apollo 11
July 16, 1969

Childhood toys can be worth a fortune

© Mark Ollig

As we welcome in December, our holiday gift shopping begins in earnest.

It is also a time when we reflect on past holidays and Christmases.

As youngsters, there were specific gifts we hoped to receive during the holiday season.

During my youth, the 1960s television series, “Lost in Space,” was faithfully watched by me every week on WCCO-TV.

In late November 1966, I began seeing the Mattel toy company’s holiday commercial for its Lost in Space Switch N Go toy collection, which I frequently asked my folks to give me for Christmas.

The toy collection included 2.5-inch-tall plastic figures of the series’ characters, including the Robinson family, Major Don West, the infamous Dr. Zachery Smith, the B9 Robot, and Bloop, the family pet.

Their spaceship, called the Jupiter 2, contained the family’s “sport utility vehicle,” known as the Chariot, which traveled on the surface of a planet.

The evening of Dec. 24, 1966, this smiling young boy opened the last Christmas gift from his parents, which was – you guessed it – the Mattel “Lost in Space” toy collection.

After thanking my mom and dad, and with Bing Crosby Christmas songs playing from the stereo cabinet, I carefully unpacked and began assembling the parts on the living room floor.

The top of the Jupiter 2 is partially made from transparent plastic and is removable so you could see inside.

The spaceship is constructed mostly out of Styrofoam, so I needed to be careful not to put any holes in it.

Mattel toy company also manufactured a plastic, highly-detailed Chariot model as a part of its Lost in Space Switch N Go toy collection.

The Chariot toy model was incredibly realistic, looking much like the one from the TV show.

An electric motor powered the Chariot along on the yellow flexible tube track I laid out on the living room floor.

Sometimes, the Chariot would take a corner too fast and tumble down the living room stairs.

The Chariot was ruggedly built and kept working.

It’s been over 50 years, and sadly, I no longer have the Chariot.

However, there is one place selling them.

The Lost in Space Chariot model I had received for Christmas those many years ago was for sale on eBay.

I was shocked when seeing how much it cost.

For $400, the Chariot could be mine once again.

One plastic character from the Lost in Space toy set sold for $75.

Another seller on eBay is offering the complete 1966 Mattel Lost in Space Switch N Go toy collection (including the original box) for $1,630.

I am still considering whether to order it.

Another television show I liked to watch during the late 1960s is “Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea,” which featured the adventures aboard the nuclear-powered submarine named Seaview.

Remco advertised a Seaview toy model during the 1967 Christmas holiday season.

The Seaview model is a 17-inch-long, yellow plastic submarine looking a lot like the model used in the television series except for the color, which on the television series was a darker shade of gray with a slight greenish tint.

The finely-detailed plastic toy model submarine became another 1960s Christmas gift I was fortunate to receive.

The Seaview model is not nuclear-powered as shown on the TV show; instead, it uses a much simpler and nonradioactive “elastic motor propulsion.”

To create the energy to power its propeller, I needed to wind up the rubber-band, located inside the submarine, using a blue plastic crank handle located on the front of the sub.

Again, it has been over 50 years, and I no longer have that toy.

Going back to eBay, I looked up what the Seaview submarine model would sell for today. To my surprise, one used model sold for $475.

It amazes me the money people are willing to pay to get back a favorite toy from their youth.

There is money to be made (and spent) on the toys from our childhood.

The toys you give (and receive) this holiday season may someday be worth a small fortune.

Watch this short video of the 1966 Chariot toy model traveling along someone’s living room floor and parking itself inside the Jupiter 2 at https://bit.ly/3qcAZ5X.

At least I still have my original comic book collection.

Stay safe out there.