Plastic

Mom Was Right



After dad died from a series of cancers, mom was convinced that it was the result of him working on the Manhattan Project.

I always figured this was probably an embellishment, as many people would assure me that there was no use for plastic in the development and creation of the atomic bomb.

I finally found an answer in Scientific American. They published an excerpt form the book Plastic: A Toxic Love Story  by Susan Freinkel  that explained how they might have needed dad’s polymer science expertise in the handling and containment of atomic bomb components; “Plastics were even essential to the building of the atomic bomb: Manhattan Project scientists relied on Teflon's supreme resistance to corrosion to make containers for the volatile gases they used.”

What an interesting world I was brought into. Another mystery has been solved, and I can add the secret project to build an atomic bomb to the family lore.

(Some more of dad’s accomplishments)

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From the Los Angeles Times By: Scott Harrison

 
Photojournalist on the Job. Part of an occasional series.

When Los Angeles Times staff photographer Bill Murphy retired in 1988, he left this photo in the Times archive. On a caption sheet dated June 15, 1988, Murphy wrote about this image:

Waiting at the Lincoln Heights jail at night circa 1948. Bill Murphy is second from the left on the bench.

When the elevator brought the suspect down from the cells above us, we would be on our feet. There were no Miranda rights. A deputy would simply push the person we were waiting for out the elevator door — and bang, the flashbulbs popped.

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Out And About


I drove over to Trader Joe’s to get some more organic blueberries and strawberries to put on organic, (real grains - no GMO’s for me, thanks.), cereal for breakfast, and noticed some nice looking flowers in the parking lot dividers.



What appeared from a distance to be small flowers on shrubs turned out to be clusters of even smaller flowers. I just love having images like these so I can get closer to the big universe that can be seen in minutiae.



There were roses no bigger than a fingertip growing in concrete dividers way out on the farthest reaches of the parking lot where they would rarely be admired.


This lily was all by itself, as far from T.J.’s as it was from Kohl's.

Back home at the Treehouse, I wandered out behind ‘A’ building, and snapped a picture or two in the pleasant afternoon sunshine.



So far, this Memorial Day Weekend has been one of dynamically contrasting weather. Warm, cool, rainy, sunny, calm, and windy.

It seems only right in this region where we have dynamic contrasts in just about everything from politics and geography, to economics and education.

We don’t just have variety, we have the extremes. I love this place.

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Today’s Relatively Appropriate Song;




Life Is Good