I am not related to Newt Gingrich.
Is Richard Dreyfuss related to Richard Nixon?
Is Mel Gibson related to Mel Brooks?
Having the same first name does NOT imply a family relationship!
Please stop asking if I am related to Newt Gingrich!
"Someone was telling me recently, someone close to President Clinton,
that President Clinton is a great admirer of Newt's intellect."
Mary Matalin in the (Macon) Telegraph
Newt Love: A Life of Adventure
2005 was a good year for Newt. He works for a large scientific company, and they offered him a Technical Fellowship in Modeling and Simulation. To qualify as a Fellow, the candidate must have a history of outstanding and sustained technical performance in a specialized field, with a record of creative and original thinking, and has the ability to translate scientific theory into innovative, practical results. Fellows continuously demonstrate exceptional judgment, generate original concepts, tackle difficult problems that are important to the aerospace industry, and are recognized as authorities in their fields by their peers in industry, Newt leads their R&D effort exploring new methods for predicting the effectiveness of network-centric military operations utilizing networks of heterogeneous devices, within the context of the Global Information Grid. His new job prevented Newt from continuing as a voting member of the IEEE 802.20 Standards Committee on Mobile Broadband Wireless Access. (Yes, Newt really is a scientist.)
Also in 2005, Newt's Easter Cantata, "Man of Sorrows," for double choir and full cathedral organ, was accepted for performance and publication by the Annapolis Chorale, directed by J. Ernest Green. You can download a MIDI file of the score by clicking here. It does not have voices singing the words, but you can hear the music. Works of Music page.
Newt is also a fiction writer. In 2005, Rockway Press purchased his first novel, How the Strong Survive. Published in March 2007, it's a thriller featuring a Lakhota (Sioux) medicine man, Ben Pace, who helps a group of Maryland women get justice from a politically connected serial rapist. In 2006, Rockway Press purchased Newt's second novel, No Accounting for Taste, the first of his Nick Schaevers mysteries. It will be published in 2007. He is completing the second Nick Schaevers novel, When Dead Cats Bounce, and an anthology of a novella and three short stories, all of which have attracted the attention of Rockway Press. Read about them in his Works of Words page.
In January 2008, Newt sold the French, German, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch, and Greek language rights to How the Strong Survive (HTSS), with first option rights on all his subsequent novels to Pascal Galodé éditeurs.
Until October 15, 2007, Monsieur Galodé was "la tête de la maison d'édition d'origine monégasque" (the head of the publisher) Le Rocher -- last press account: 550 titles in 2005. In June 2007, the Pierre-Fabre group completed the acquisition of Le Rocher, and four months later, brought in their own executive, Vincent Wackenheim, to lead Le Rocher, forcing Mr. Galodé out.
Being too vigorous to retire, he formed a new publishing company, Pascal Galodé éditeurs. in Saint-Malo, France. (As of March 2008) After six months in business, his new house had eight titles.
Monsieur Galodé's interest in Newt's novels certainly says something about the quality of Newt's writing. Newt is awed that HTSS is chosen as the first book to be translated by this intrepid company, led by one of the most distinguished players in European and the global publishing industry. Newt trusts that Mr. Galodé is right in selecting HTSS, and that it will meet his expectations as his editions are released throughout the EU.
Admiring Dashiell Hammett's ability to write both dark, (The Maltese Falcon - Sam Spade) and light, (The Thin Man - Nick and Nora Charles, and their schnauzer, Asta), Newt has plots for five dark Nick Schaevers mysteries , and over a dozen light mysteries that are solved by private detective Roland Dice and his side-kick Sandy Banks.
Newt's life has been an adventure, but in many ways, it is just an echo of the record setting and adventurous life of his father, Newton Love Sr. Like Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader, Newt has walked in his father's footsteps. The first picture on the left was taken in 1951. (Newt Jr. was born in 1958.) The 29 year-old Newton Sr. is pictured with his wife Gloria, from Fredericksburg Texas, and their two oldest children.
Newton Sr. was from Colorado, a mixture of Lakhota and Scott nations. He had a colorful life of his own. Highlights include being one of the US Marines sent to guard the Chinese Emperor and his family when they were flown "over the Burma Hump." He worked his way through the ranks, until he was selected as the head of General Thomas Moore's Combat Engineers in the South Pacific during WWII. Since he and his crew built the runways and set up the Marine airbases, Newton knew "Pappy" Boynton, whose other nick-name was "Piss-Pot." Oh, the stories he told about the Black Sheep! Newton's last duty station was the Provost Marshal of Marine Corps Air Station Goleta, (now the campus of UC Santa Barbara). He enlisted in the Marines, and held every rank from private to Warrant Officer 4. On his discharge, he was promoted to Major in the Marine Corps Reserve, but was not called back to active duty.
One of the many life links between Newton and Newt connected when Newt went to work for the Lockheed SkunkWorks, in Burbank, CA. Newt was assigned to work with George Newcomb, a rough and tough former Marine ordnance man, who had found a way to integrate the US Army Crull-Grant ground penetration equations with the China Lake ground penetration equations, and the Poncillet penetration equations, into a single set of equations. George had done the work to predict the performance of an individual GBU-27 being dropped from the F-117A. Under George's tutelage, Newt performed the research that determined, for all target types, for all operational velocities and altitudes, what was the optimum first-weapon release point, and the intervalometer setting necessary to put both GBU-27s in the same hole.
One day, George stopped Newt and asked if Newt's dad was a Marine. George then asked if Newton Sr. was ever the Provost Marshall of USMC Air Station Goleta. George told me how when he was a kid in the Marines, at the tail-end of WWII, "somebody in the Islands got an idea that I was smart. They sent me to Goleta for some math tests, where I was selected to go to ordnance school. The night before I was to leave for Cherry Point, to start ordnance school, I was out drinking with my buddies when some squid said something bad about the Irish. I beat the crap out of all three them, but the local Sheriff got me. I woke up in the county lock-up, with your dad bailing me out. He had his adjutant drive me to the station, where I caught my train, went to school, and found my destiny. Tell your Dad 'Thank you.'"
The next time Newt talked to Newton, he asked about George. "Which one was he? I don't know. I used to meet one of my staff at the county jail every morning. If the Marine had somewhere to go, the Sheriff and I had a deal that he would drop the charges and I would put them on the train. If the Marine was stationed at Goleta, I let them sit in lock-up. There must have been four or five hundred young men I put on the trains. Tell George that I am glad that he turned out so well. Tell him to not cut you any slack on my account."
When Newt next saw George, he relayed the messages, including to not cut Newt any slack. "That thought never crossed my mind, newbie," George replied.
Back to Newton Sr, due to the anti-Indian racism prevalent in Colorado in 1940, Newton's final high school transcript was rubber stamped "NOT COLLEGE MATERIAL." Despite his good grades, he could not find a college to accept him after WWII was over. A friend from the USMC arranged an introduction to (then US Congressman) Lyndon Johnson of Texas. After getting to know Newton for a few minutes, Johnson asked him, "If I put you into Texas A&M, will you make me proud?" Newton graduated, an Aggie with Honors in Mechanical Engineering, and went on to receive a Masters from A&M, and a Master of Divinity from Dallas Theological Seminary. In honor of Lyndon Johnson, Newton was a registered Democrat for the rest of his life, never missing an election. Who he voted for was rarely known, even inside his family circles.
The next picture on the right, shows Newton Sr. and family in 1955. Their oldest son, in Gloria's arms, is around a year old.
Newton Sr. was the chief structural engineer on the development team for the Vought Corsair A-7, the first production aircraft to break the sound barrier. Prior to that, only hand built prototypes had done it. North American's F-86 Sabre was the first aircraft to break the sound barrier, but George Welch's historic flights (13 days before, and repeated 30 minutes before, Chuck Yeager's historic Bell X-1 flight) were done in the XP-86 prototype, and lacked proper instrumentation for official recognition. The A-7 second production unit was flown by Vought test pilot Boone T. Guyton through the same flight envelope tests George Welch had done, and achieved trans-Mach and supersonic speed. Guyton was the test pilot for all three types of the Vought Corsair Over a 25 year period, 1,569 A-7 Corsair aircraft served the US Air Force, Navy, and Marines until replaced by the F/A-18. In Vietnam, A-7D aircraft flew a total of 12,928 combat sorties with only 4 losses -- the lowest of any US fighter in the theater.
When the first A-7s were being delivered, Newton Sr. moved on to other R&D efforts. While working with the A-7 Corsair jet engine system, Newton had realized that the jet fuel injection nozzles could have an alternative purpose; the design could be adapted for use as the first non-clogging liquid sugar spray nozzles. He pressed for the research to be done, and the resulting nozzle was the basis for the widespread appearance of cotton candy machines in the 1960s.
While working in Dallas, Newton became friends with a group of crazy-minded scientists and engineers who were experimenting with semiconductors. They asked him to invest with them. After looking at their work, Newton said that he thought it doubtful that it would ever work. He turned down the investment opportunity. They asked for a loan of $200 to fund the next experiment. Newton declined. He dropped out of their circle of friends, and was later shocked to see that they had become Texas Instruments.
next picture on the left, shows Newton Sr. and family in 1962.
The almost four-year-old Newt Jr. is in the middle.
Andrew sits on Newton Sr's knee,
and Paul sits on Gloria's knee.
Behind Gloria is Priscilla, and the tall
one behind little Newt is Annette,
who is almost 16 in this picture.
Soon after this picture was taken, the family fell apart. Newton Sr. was awarded custody of the children, which he took to California.
In his life, Newton Sr. started eleven companies. Three were abject failures. Six were successful, and two were wildly successful. Newton Sr. believed that everyone is capable of greatness. Everyone has talents. One of his mottoes was "bring everyone with you."
I spent my youth like small change. (Newton Love 1975)
I went to several schools in southern California:
Ina Arbuckle Elementary in Rubidoux for 1th grade,
Kingsbury Elementary in Redlands for 2th and 3th grade,
Rustic Lane Elementary in Rubidoux for 3th, 4th and 5th grades,
Mission Middle School in Rubidoux for 6th grade,
Central Jr. High in Riverside for 7th and 8th grade,
and finally four years in one place at John Wesley North High School, named for the founder of Riverside (for 9th, 10th, 11th, and 12th grades).
When I was thirteen, in Jr. High, the script of a short film suddenly popped into my head. It was about gangs in school, and one of the kids got shot. It hadn't happened in any LA Area school yet, but I believed that it would. It was almost all I could do for several days, was to write down the words that filled my head. I shot some of the script with some school friends, but I lacked the funds to finish the project. Too bad... I could have had a film career. That was my first experience with stories that leap from my subconscious into full bloom inside my head. I got used to it, and now rely on it to help me as a writer.
When I was sixteen, my parents moved from Riverside California to Muscoy, an unincorporated county suburb of San Bernardino, about 50 miles north of Riverside. I didn't want to move, so I took a two bedroom apartment on 8th Street, in the "student ghetto" of the University of California Riverside. It was "home" for my junior and senior years of high school.
For a while, Mike Charleson was my roommate He was a year older than me, and went into the US Marine Corps as an ordinance guy. He really knew his RDX from his TDX! Mike was stationed at El Toro, which wasn't far from Riverside, so he paid some of the rent so he could have an off-base place on the weekends to screw around in. I wonder where Mike is now.
Those were wonderful days for me. I can't tell you how fond I am of the ones who included me in their inner circle. Dee-Dee, Chris, Kelly, Keith, Jon, Mark, Karen, Sheryl, Connie, ... it's a long list, but that's a start. Also, my 9th and 10th grade buddy, Brian Boxer let me visit in San Diego, and his cool mom (a professor at SDSU) took us on surfing camping trips. Thanks!
I categorically deny any involvement in
certain alleged trips to Mexico.
Even though the border was close, I never went there. I never
abandoned a small truck, and crossed back into the US on foot. I
don't know anything about it.
I did go on some surf trips to the middle of the Baja California, but other than four cervezas for a dollar, two California lobsters for $5, and all the beans, rice, and tortillas we could eat, served by some of the most beautiful people on earth, I really don't know a thing about Mexico. Mexico's sand bar breaks and a few point breaks there are better than most of southern California's surf spots.
I constantly pulled pranks. That is why, when I was a Senior in high school, a few months before graduation, the Principal called me into his office. He informed me that I was a few credits short of graduation. He was willing to waive the requirement, if I promised to not come back. I took the deal.
The pranks included everything from the simple, like taking every outdoor table in the school, and overnight, stacking them in the middle of the Quad, to a height taller than the tallest building in school. It was even taller than the flag pole. From them top, you could see the parking lots in front, and behind the school. The janitors arrived at school around 7:30 in the morning, and noticed the giant pyramid. Working hard, they had it down to only four layers deep when school started at 8:00.
Nearby Rubidoux High School maintained a giant painted "R" on a certain rock on a hill that faced the front of their school. A friend and I turned the "R" into an "8." We were about to start transforming it into an 8-ball, when we saw a bunch of cars arrive at the base of the hill. We left the paint and went over the top, coming down into the valley behind. We caught a bus back into Rubidoux, then walked to the car, that we had parked well down the hill, in case we were caught.
There was the time that we borrowed a collapsible, life-sized plastic skeleton from the biology lab. The (now defunct) Sambo's Restaurant near my apartment had notoriously slow service. After the waitress seated us in a booth and brought coffee, We sat the skeleton with my shirt on it, and I donned another shirt and sat in a nearby table. After a long wait, the waitress came to take out order. When she saw the skeleton, she dropped the pot of coffee, which broke, and shrieked "What happened to him?" My accomplice said that I had died of starvation waiting for her to take our order. We got thrown out by the manager. We weren't upset; we'd been thrown out of better joints.
Then there was the time I dressed in a tarzan breech-cloth, and let my friend put a studded leather dog collar around my neck and heavy chain on that. We went to the Winchell's Donut shop, and he tied me to the news racks outside. I was snarling and carrying on. Mothers were hiding their children's eyes. My friend stuck his head out the door, and yelled, "Shut up, or no donut!" I whimpered, and walked after my tail in a circle, three times, then sat down. My friend bought the donuts, and came out and put me through a routine of sit up, lay down, roll-over, after which I got a cake donut. The mothers were running for cover, carrying children like sacks of potatoes.
From the simple, to the complex... here is the king of our pranks.
1970... Central Jr. High School, Riverside CA. Computer punch card pre-registration for High School was underway for the very first time. Some wise-guys thought it would be funny to submit punch cards for "Otto Mation." They filled in the forms for this fictitious dude and dropped them in the inbox. Two weeks later, the USPS delivered Otto Mation's class schedule to the home of my friend (name withheld),
"Otto" was a year ahead of me in school, and so I didn't hear much about him as I finished my last year of Jr. High School. When I got to John W. North HS, Otto was already a sophomore. Various folks had been "attending" his classes for Otto. He was a poor student, but had somehow managed to pass his Freshman year.
As a Freshman, I was asked to take Otto's sophomore geometry and biology classes. As a Junior, I took his Senior term English Lit and second-term German classes. Despite his yearbook pictures not matching from year to year, and him receiving scholastic counselling twice, the truth about Otto was NOT discovered. I was in the audience when Otto Mation graduated from J.W. North HS in June of 1975. They read his name, but nobody walked across the stage to take the diploma. They announced it again, to a huge laughter from the students.
The story made the local paper, the Press Enterprise, and the Riverside Unified School District's Board was embarrassed. The story was quickly swept under the rug. Buried somewhere in the morgue of the Press Enterprise is the only body Otto Mation ever had of his own... a body of text in a newspaper story about bureaucrats gone wild.
A four year fraud was at an end. Too bad, Otto could have been a great professor in a university, or a director in Hollywood, if he just would have applied himself better when he was in high school.
I paid the bills by selling paintings and ceramics in the park, and in the parking lot of a Mexican restaurant. I also worked part time in an import gift and furniture boutique. Of the sixteen employees, I was the only one younger than 18, and the only heterosexual. I assembled Scandinavian furniture, then Gary and I would deliver it. We spent a lot of time in the van together. We drove a lot of local trips, but drove a couple of long trips each month, like from Riverside to Lake Tahoe. Gary and I had long talks about a lot of stuff, especially politics, and the politics of sexuality, and the whole hetero/homo/sexual thing. Gary helped me understand a whole lot of the world, especially in the subjects not discussed a lot in my family.
During the last two years of high school, I surfed (at Salt Creek, Laguna Niguel, see picture on left), sailed, and played French horn, built sets for local theater groups, sold my art and worked at the gift boutique. I wound up cutting a lot of my classes, and either sat in on class lectures at the University of California Riverside, or hung-out in the Student Union, (if the surf was flat or I couldn't find anyone to sail with). In the summer of 1975, I helped a sorority break the Guinness "World Record" for Team Continuous Swinging in a Swing Set. In 1976, I graduated 118th out of 176. That's what I get for not taking high school seriously.
I joined the US Marines, where I learned to repair radar systems. I enlisted just before the Vietnam pullout, and was just leaving training for duty at El Toro when the Commandant got the order to cut the Corps by a third. I fit a computer profile of people likely to leave the corps and go to college, so they offered it to me. I took it.
I read theology and physics at Abilene Christian University in Abilene Texas. That lasted for a little while, but after a disastrous "engagement" (to an un-named female), I dropped out of ACU and followed some friends to the Silicon Valley where I got a job at Triad Systems Corporation in Sunnyvale California, the heart of the Silicon Valley. While there, I wrote a general ledger system in COBOL, and developed traveling salesman methods for minimizing the fuel costs on the delivery routes of the Mom-and-Pop automotive after market store owners. It was 1978. Things were pretty primitive back them.
While a lot of people were significant in my life during my Redwood City and Sunnyvale sojourn, none is more precious than Darla. The picture to the right is a typical west swell at Rockaway in Pacifica California. (The Rockaway pictures are from www.surfpedropoint.org (thanks guys!).
Triad went public. I sold my meager shares and left to surf hurricanes in Florida. I used to have some great press clippings of "the crew" out in surf that was swamping the few idiots who tried to leave the Inter-Coastal. Two power monohulls (looked like 50 footers) went to the bottom. A 45 foot catamaran was pitched "over the falls" and was shredded into pieces. The Coast Guard rescued the boaters while we surfers waved when they flew overhead. The surf in the picture to the left is the Stuart Public Beach, my home break while I was living the life of a surf rat.
The hurricanes were big stuff, but nothing like Topanga Canyon on Thanksgiving 1976 or Rockaway on October 21, 1978. Rockaway (just south of San Francisco) was 40 feet on the outer rock shelf, and thick. It was a lot of swimming to get through the shore break and the two inside breaks before paddling out to the outer rock. The water was damn cold. Even with a surf cap, I got ice cream headaches (brain freeze) when pushing through waves.
On my third ride, I took off a little late, and was just coming up from my bottom turn to look for the slot to the tube when it happened. The wave pitched, and made a tube, but I was on the outside of it. The top of the wave hit my feet and blew me off of my board. I felt my leash stretch and snap. I grabbed my knees to my chest. No such luck. The wave shook me like a strip of raw bacon.
It took three sets of waves before I made shore. I was freezing. I stood by the trashcan fire for ten minutes before I went to retrieve my board. I could see it on the jetty, grinning like it was missing a tooth. When I finally hiked out and retrieved it, I found a huge six inch gash in the nose, one of the two skegs (fins) was gone, and there were three compression dings and two punch holes. I packed it in for the day, grabbed a few brewskis and a big hot coffee, and replaced fluids in my car while watching others surf.
1980 was a very spiritual year for me. I saw every sunset that
year, (like the one above and to the right, which shows the outer
rocks at Rockaway. I prayed and meditated while watching the big gas
ball sink out of view. The dusk was great too. I also saw about a
third of the dawns from that year. It was a colorful 365 days. All
the surfing was good for my soul, too.
In the middle of that year, before I left Florida, I had the pleasure to surf with some rich kids. They would have their dad's yacht take us to some great little outer reef breaks. One time, Tof chartered a sea plane, and flew us to some small islands. After we surfed them, Tof had the pilot fly us to a big island. I had no idea where we were. We were surfing for a couple of hours, when this speedboat started towards us from some inlet about halfway to where the island met the horizon. The pilot whistled us in, and we had just made it when the boat came alongside. They had uniforms on, and their guns drawn. Two of them had banana clipped machine guns. After a lot of Spanish discussion, the pilot gave them a stack of bills. After it was counted, the boat sped away. We packed it in, and flew home. The pilot told Tof that the trip just cost another $250. Tof didn't care about money. He cared about the great times. I wonder where he is now?
I returned to California, where I surfed Big Rock (La Jolla, see picture at left), and did a lot of different jobs. One of them was with KayPro where as the Technical Marketing Analyst and fifth employee, I performed product design specification and co-wrote the first two national advertising campaigns for the world's earliest successful "portable" computer.
in 1980, while I was living in Del Mar, California, I invented, designed, and built the world's first completely electronic guitar. I did it because I didn't know how to play keyboards, but knew guitar fingering. I built it to give me a different keyboard interface to the synthesizers that previously had only piano styled keyboards. I tried to get it patented, but the only local patent attorney insisted it wasn't patentable. Six months later, Pat Matheny patented his version of the completely electronic guitar. I showed the newspaper clipping under the attorney's nose, and told him what I thought. He told me to get an attorney and sue him, but predicted I would lose. I already knew that in a lawsuit, the only winners are the lawyers charging huge fees, so I just dropped it.
Eventually I met a blond. We dated, then married. I returned to school (see the long list below). The blond graduated from UCSD and we moved to Los Angeles. There I continued school and eventually graduated in 1988 from UCLA with a B.A. in Economics-Math.
I always do things in big numbers. I attended three different elementary schools, two middle schools, and one high school. I also attended a lot of college. Excluding the University of California Riverside classes I sat in on while in high school, I attended (the Registrar had me listed) two colleges and four universities:
Abilene Christian University in Abilene Texas. 2 years
San Diego Mesa College 1.5 years
Santa Monica College 2 years
University of California Los Angeles 2.5 years
University of Missouri St. Louis 1.5 years (graduate studies).
After finishing at UCLA, I worked in the Lockheed Skunk Works on several projects including the F-117A Stealth Fighter shown above on the right. Besides working on cool stuff, I played softball in Lockheed's Rec-League. Of the four years I played, our team was champs twice, and 2nd place once. Our first year together, we hadn't got used to each other yet. Our secret was working for base hits that we could put together into runs. Meanwhile, the other teams tried to swing for home runs every time. With a 4th "rover" in the outfield, that almost always was an out.
In 1988, while at the SkunkWorks, I invented a closed form mathematical solution to the problem of determining the number of radar beam-on-beam, and through recursion, the number of pulse-on-pulse illumination events that occur in an active RF environment. In other words, I developed the methodology for defining the minimum and expected performance standards for an RF cloaking device. Don't you love those Romulans?
I also invented a scenario that is now almost a standard for the military Ops Analysis community. The F-117A program wanted to invent a generic military scenario that they could use to demonstrate the platform's effectiveness. All the available scenarios were Top Secret. Taking the name of a southern California town near where I grew up, Redlands, I conceived the Redland/Blueland scenario. By renaming Los Angeles County "Blueland," and San Bernardino County "Redland," we had the two military forces. I took the addresses of the quickie marts, and made them air defense sites, the airports and roads were already there. We did drop more cultural features into the less populated "Redland," but it is essentially "the battle to protect Los Angeles." Nowadays, everybody uses it.
Later, I was a member of the McDonnell Aircraft Phantom works, (pre Boeing) where the head guy was known as "The Prince of Darkness." Actually, he was a nice guy, but since all the work was "black world," the name stuck. When they started cutting IR&D funds, I had to cut a person from my group. I chose to fire myself. That angered my bosses. I told them that they had left the decision to me, and I made my choice. Besides, I had no kids, while the people working for me did. I left McAir to start a consulting company.
While working for McAir, a colleague asked me to find a mathematical form for representing the phenomena of a stationary car getting pelted by rain all over, but a moving car getting more in the front window than on the back window. As the car moves faster, the back can remain dry, while the front is all wet. In January of 1990, years before the earliest reference in the unclassified literature, I invented the concept of Doppler Probability, and wrote the first two papers on the topic. They are appendices on a couple of reports that are still classified.
I coined the term CamelCase
While in St. Louis (working for McAir), I talked a bunch of
friends into doing the Kidney Foundation's chili cook off. Carrol
Selby was the guest judge. He's a five time grand championship
winner, making him ineligible to compete. I entered my fish chili
recipe. It sounds bad, but Carrol came by and spent an hour with us,
eating his fill of it. He told me that he had voted for me, but that
the other judges wanted to give the 1st place to the guys who also
were raising the most money for the Kidney Foundation. That was fine,
but since my group was only selling chili, and another group was
selling T-shirts, caps, and beer coolers, we lost. We sold more chili
than them, though.
I have a half-finished cookbook (over 130 recipes that I invented). Maybe I should finish it and get it published too.
My other cooking bona fides came when I was a guest chef at Fio's La Forchette in Clayton, MO. It's a 4-star French-Swiss Restaurant. Fio and his wife have retired now, and the restaurant is closed, but the chocolate soufflés live on!
My experience in mathematics and scientific software led me to start my own consulting company in March of 1996. Eagle Feather's vision was to provide technology access to clients who sought to adapt and adopt the latest information technology to propel their growth in science and industry. Lucky me, I wound up finding a red-head "pimp." Kelly was great at finding me work. The first pimps I used would often leave me with gaps of no work, which meant no income. When I met Kelly, my luck changed! I always had overlapping jobs. It never hurt that she was easy on the eyes. Kelly, if you read this, I still owe you a favor or two.
I helped several clients develop or enhance their product lines, and became an internet merchant, with a trading post (gift shop) on my former corporate domain: eaglefeather.com. I didn't like the ROI of the gift shop, so I closed it down. That domain name is now owned by another party.
On November 9, 1989, the Berlin Wall was opened by the East Germans. In April of 1990, my friend Jan and I met in Goslar, Deutschland. We were the 499th and 500th Americans to sign the guest book at the top of the newly reopened tourist area at the top of Der Brocken. We impressed the Germans, in that we hiked up the mountain, and rode the schmallbahn railroad car down, while the German tour groups rode the train up, and walked down. Jan and I could quote from memory every radar and radio antenna that used to be on that mountain, the tallest in northern Germany, but since the Cold War was over, the military systems were gone, replaced by TV towers and cellphone systems. Gilligan's Island (in German) was on the TV in the tourist shop.
Besides Jan visiting the village where his grandfather had emigrated from, which used to be behind the "iron curtain," Jan and I visited Quedlinburg, taking in both villages with the largest collection of half-timbered homes. After visiting the desecrated church where Hitler commissioned his SS officers, having a nice meal in a very old inn, we went to the town square hoping for an ATM. Jan tried his BankAmerica card, and the machine gave him Deutsch Marks. I cried when I realized that only six months earlier, we couldn't have even have stood there without fear of being arrested as spies, but now the East Germans were as free as we were.
While visiting Kassel, I picked up a hitch-hiker, I thought a boy.
It was a college girl, from what was East Germany, but she was going
to school in Kassel. As we drove to the train station, she told me
that she and her East German friends and family didn't understand the
"How so," I asked.
"You talk back to your boss at work."
I laughed loud. "Sometimes, we tell them to go to hell, if they deserve it."
She laughed with me, and then said, "We could never do that. What if we are fired?"
"Then you find other work, or start your own company. Don't worry, you'll get used to freedom." I wonder how Gita is doing now?
All good things eventually come to an end. In 1999, I sold my business to a friend, and moved to Maryland. At first, I worked for a small start-up with big plans. It was named DTM Research. I wish I'd never heard of them. Oh well.
Next I worked for USinternetworking. where I did middleware. It's a lot like hacking, but all nice. You take other companies' software, and use compiler tools to exploit their application programming interfaces (APIs), and if they didn't have one, you hacked one anyhow. Heck, we'd paid for the copy, and if we wanted to destroy it, that was our business. We would then write our own code to reach inside the other software, and like a puppeteer who shoves his hand inside a dummy to make it talk, we would make those other software products jump and jive, and work together to do really big things that none of the products could do alone. That was a lot of fun.
In January 2001, after 18.5 years of marriage, the blond left me for one of her boyfriends, whom she married five months later. I met and married a wonderful Baltimore woman. We were married in a civil ceremony on Friday 13th of September, 2002. Some of my friends asked me why I would marry a redhead with Irish roots and temperament. What can I say? I like spicy food, a spicy life, but most of all, my spicy wife.
In June of 2001, Newton Sr. went into the hospital with cancer. He stayed in the hospital until he died the following September. I miss him.
In January of 2001, My USInternetworking boss told me that I was doing a great job taking them into the R&D for their next product line. I thought I was on top of the world! In May of 2001, they laid-off the entire R&D section. They filed for bankruptcy. They were just another "dot-commie" who's bubble had burst.
I trotted out my consulting credentials and landed in a project at Pax River Naval Air Station. It was fun, but the commute was really long.
Our task was to build an aircraft flight data recorder from commercial off-the-shelf (COTS) parts. There were nine of us, and none of us had done anything like it before. So what? We were top-notch engineers, and we had a pot of money to work with. In 14 months, we had it in bench test, with a flight simulator acting as the aircraft, and the parts on the shelf.
We were the stick for Smiths' donkey. For years, the Electronics PMO at PAX had been offering carrots to Smiths Industries to move to a COTS-based system. Smiths had refused. The carrots had failed. We were the big stick to hit them with. Our flight data recorder had more recording channels than Smiths' model, including 4 more data feeds, and two video audio feeds. Smiths' was selling theirs for $265K each. We believed that after hardening our system, we could manufacture them for $90K each. The PMO turned to the Smiths' sales rep, who had been forced to hear our briefing, and asked him, "Now, why don't you tell me how Smiths can't make a COTS system for me, but these nine boys here have done it. Tell me why I shouldn't cancel your contract, and let these boys have your business."
The sales rep had a tan when he came in the room, but it was gone. He looked like a cousin of the Pillsbury Doughboy. He sputtered out that they would have a COTS product for him in six months.
I left that project, while the rest of the folks built their ruggedized box, and flight tested it on a Navy C-4 cargo delivery aircraft. It was a success. The Smiths COTS system came in at $135K, saving the US Navy a lot of money, and getting folks at the PMO some "Salty Dog" awards. I got some really great memories.
In October of 2001, I took a job with IIT Research Institute (IITRI). It's a think tank with about 1700 people spread out over the US, Europe, and the south Pacific. I've helped win some contracts, and was picked as a project manager for FY 2003. The employees of IITRI bought ourselves, and we morphed into a for profit company named Alion Science and Technology.
I'm having fun again. Nancy and I are happy, and putting our life together after the disasters of 2001-2. 2002 sure ended nice, with us married and all. Work is challenging, the tech is tough, and the R&D budgets are large. Yeah, I'm having fun again.
From 2002 to 2006, I was a Member-at-Large on the Board of Directors for the Maryland Writers' Association where I published their Mid-Atlantic Writers E-Newswire for several years. He also helped with their Novel Contests for unpublished manuscripts.
I co-wrote an interview with Sparkle Hayter for January Magazine.
One of two surviving surfboards is racked on the wall of the guest room. I gave the other board to my nephew Igor Rosensteel. I have a map to the local Maryland breaks, but I haven't seriously hit the waves since I left California. Ocean City is over an hour away, so I sail more than surf.
My sweetie Nancy, a home-grown Maryland artist, is coolness personified, and loves the beach. She's almost a local there, even though she grew up in Balto. We tend to sail on the Chesapeake Bay more than we do the beach.
I did get to surf some in the summer of 2003. I spent a week in Myrtle Beach SC, and had a great time. The conditions were blown out for most of the week, but there were two days of nice 1-3 footers. I mostly did a lot of paddling.
In a "NewtShell," my orbit has always been eccentric, following a hyperbola of hyperbole.
So now we are back to the top, where Newt had a great 2005. He was a Northrop Grumman Technical Fellow. He sold a classical music composition to the Annapolis Chorale, and is working on two operas, "Sitting Bull" and "Crazy Horse and Custer." He's sold two novels to Rockway Press, and expects to sell a few more to them in the near future. He is about ready to paint a series of paintings so that he can mount another art show.
I left Northrop Grumman and joined USAF OSI. Like NCIS and Army CID, OSI supports the FBI by assuming the Law Enforcement role for their branch of service. I was the lead engineer in a small unit that took on any task that was too large or too technical for a field office. We would supply the extra "oomph" needed to find a path to justice. A lot of our work was preparing evidence for Grand Juries. We also assisted Counter-Intel and CyberSecurity Special Agents.
It was the coolest job I've ever had. Then it happened; The Air Force cut OSI's budget by 10%. The Commanding General addressed us directly, "You are doing fabulous work, and I fought hard to get the money back, but all of the DoD is taking a hit. I love your work, but am faced with hard choices. Your unit is a luxury that OSI can no longer afford." The General supported us with charge numbers until we found another job.I landed at the IRS, helping them with the final stages of rolling out their new Treasury Network (T-Net). I built the first full-scale nation-wide (and international) OPNET Guru capacity planning model for the IRS. My network model didn't get into the network and computers inside the buildings, but accurately modeled the network between those buildings. Besides the network, I brought in the economic and time-line costs into the 1st-ever proactive capacity planner used by the IRS.
I didn't get to see that project through to full-implementation. I was recruited to join the US Army CERDEC efforts moving to the Aberdeen Proving Ground. My specialty since 2001 has been the modeling, simulation, and analysis (MS&A) of military wireless networks (and general science / physics). I support those efforts at the APG, especially in the area of Communication Effects Server (CES) simulation. While supporting CERDEC, I've proposed three new scientific methodologies that are under evaluation for US Army and US Navy laboratory R&D.
My 2008 taxes had 2 W-2s, 2009 had 3 W-2s, and my 2010 taxes had 3 W-2s included. I hope that this fiscal turmoil is over. Perhaps if the politicians in Washington DC stop playing numbly-peg with the budget, we can get some stability in our National Defense projects.
So, it's now 2011, and I may get back to writing my unfinished novels, and after that, start on my TBW (to be written) pile.
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Unit 1214 week 39 in the Royal Regency Resort, Vincennes France
Le ville Vincennes is inside the Paris peripherique (beltway).
It is an RCI resort (enter Resort ID 3068 and press continue) and Sunterra's resort RRH
My detailed description is here.