September 19, 1975: Friday

Up at 5:00 again. The morning is farily decent. But five minutes after I get to the BFC, the wind comes up and snow starts blowing all over the place. Sam and Dave and I go get gas. It’s a howling gale outside. We go back and decide to wait ‘til the forecaster gets to work at 8:30. I go back to bed. It’s bloody miserable outside. Can’t see fifty yards. Dr. Treves decides not to go and says I can have the morning off.

I don’t feel like sleeping. So I go check out the radio station. I procure the key from some sleeping guy, who was nice enough about the whole thing, just a bit groggy.

A tape is playing and it takes me five minutes to get it turned off and to figure out how to turn me on. After a lot flip switching and hoping, I get things turned on. I start out with “Roundabout,” my theme. I go by the name “Raoul’s Radio,” Ø945 to 123Ø. (Notice how the Navy puts things through their zeros). I keep saying “Armed Forces Radio” instead of “American Forces Radio.” Played both of Cathy’s songs. Even got two requests (from the same guy) for “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” and “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” off the Concert for Bangladesh album. It’s a bit of a hassle pulling out albums for one song and shoving ‘em back. Can’t get the full appreciation of the song. And I like to do things while I listen, but on Radio you got to keep busy running it. But I like it.

After lunch, as the gale continues, Cal shows me how to get rocks ready to make thin sections. It’s all a matter of judging how smooth a rock surface is and the various tools to get it smooth.

The rocks we’re working on are from the bottom of the Sound, collected by Al and Steve while they were fishing for things on the bottom. One’s a basalt and the other’s a tuff.

I guess Cal and I will describe the bottom rocks, make tables about them, and publish it in the Antarctic Journal. I guess that’s what they did last year. But I’m not certain anbout any of this. Dr. Treves is point counting minerals today. Something else I don’t quite understand.

I’m glad it’s bad outside because the trip’s postponed ‘til Monday. So I’ll be here Sunday to help with the Zig-zag Show.

At supper Jack gives an impassioned and bitter attack on the State of California. “Why, I checked into a motel and the lady said, ‘That’ll be 28 dollars.’ And I said, ‘I ain’t stayin’ for a week, just this one night.’ And she said, ‘That’ll be 28 dollars.’ And I said, ‘Good, when’s dinner served.’ And she said, ‘You’ll have to go down stairs if you want to eat.’ Why, in Arizona you can live for a month on five dollars and a tank of gas.”

There’s a whole lot of nonsense going on. I guess it’s Friday night. Playing pool we get this dialogue.

“You geographers are pretty good at pool.”

“Isn’t that the schists.”

“Only if you’re gneiss about it.”

“Or if you take it for granite.”

“That’s a marbleous statement.”

“Oh, stop this punishment.”

Dr. Treves and Cal lost the Earth Science Lab and Mrs. Treves to Bio-Mike and Al playing pool, and that starts with “P” which rhymes with “T” and that stands for Trouble, with a capital “T,” which rhymes with “P” and that stands for Pool, right here in River City. Ooooh, yeahhh!!

At least they won Hallet Station back. They didn’t get around to playing for the USARP Mountains. That made Dave happy ‘cause there’s a Bresnehan Mountain.

Bruce, the Winter Over CosRay guy, who reminds me of Tom Weaver and who got a little absent during the night, told me there’s a list somewhere that if you put your name on it, you’ll get a mountain named after you by the Board of Geographic Names. But Mount Bresnehan wasn’t named that way. So I still have a chance of getting Mount Debrushka on the map, if bureaucracy doesn’t make things impossible.

I finished Ivanhoe. I’m glad that Athelstane didn’t die. He was a good guy, and necessary to reconcile Richard Couer-de-leon with Cedric, so everyone could have a happy ending. The author took a lot of liberties and things for granted, but then, he’s famous.

I stayed up ‘til way after one talking to Bio-Mike. He came out in his bathrobe to the game room and asked about my education and age. He told me about his girlfriend (a year older than I am), named Janelle, but doesn’t fit the description of a Nebraska Janelle. It was a good and interesting story and I think I shall remember it, for it may come in handy some day. It’s about a high school biology teacher who falls in love with one of his students, but after she graduates.

I think Mike wanted to talk. And I hope I didn’t goof up in listening by interjecting too many comparisons with Nebraska. But the point was made that People are People, and their differences just make their similarities that much more remarkable.