I wrote this in response to the Carl Sagan blog-a-thon also mentioned here.  The Carl Sagan Tribute site is wonderful as well.

When I was a young teen in 1980 there were three televisions in the house: One was in the small family room, and was typically shared by my parents. Another was in their bedroom – used primarily by my father to watch Kansas City Chiefs football games on crisp fall weekends. In my own inner sanctum – my bedroom, I had a little 13-inch GE black-and-white set, which I mostly used for watching PBS and Star Trek. It was on my little television that I learned about the coming premiere of Carl Sagan’s Cosmos.

Cosmos so intrigued me that I was motivated to leave the electronics and Lego and book-strewn confines of my own bedroom in search of a color television. I knew I needed to see stars and galaxies, nebulae and molecules in vivid color. I persuaded my parents to let me use their bedroom color television to watch the series, no small task given their dubious view of science-fiction, their abhorrence of evolution and general mystification regarding science. I eventually won the argument with assurances of the series educational value and reassurance of “non-sinful” content. Every week, I’d find myself plopped on my parents white king-sized comforter, propped-chin-in-hands, waiting for the next astonishing (my favorite Cosmos word) installment to propel my mind far from my pedestrian Ozarks home.

Carl Sagan’s method of teaching science through stories was fantastic; the combination of human drama involving Renaissance dinner-parties, Japanese samurai, Italian bike-rides and imaginary trips to other worlds was viscerally affecting. His (and collaborator Ann‘s) words, images and music were poetic and powerful.

With Cosmos, and by virtue of other reading I was doing, my life began a slow transformation from a mystical and religious orientation to one guided by skepticism and an ardent application of the scientific method. For the remainder of their lives, my parents believed Cosmos to have been a springboard from which my mind and life launched in directions they could not and would not follow. In that, at least, they were spot-on.

Eventually I went to college and got a physics degree, thanks mostly to the inspiration of Carl; with nods to Dr. Asimov and the fictitious Mr. Spock. The super-specialization concomitant with obtaining an advanced degree eventually disaffected me, as I was instead driven to broaden my insight into the cosmos and the way people related to it. My voyage of discovery continues apace, however; Cosmos having proved sufficient impetus to change my life permanently.

Though I am no longer a starry-eyed teenager, the music of the cosmos still resonates with my being. As with Carl’s consistent theme, a harmonic synthesis of knowledge across many disciplines, and the scientifically-guided pursuit of wisdom still propel my constant curiosities. These days still find me a solitary person, often ensconced in my bedroom reading; the pattern of my life. In my bedroom I have two bookshelves with the books currently guiding my predominantly autodidactic voyage of discovery: One of them is “The Demon Haunted World” which I consider to be Carl’s most compassionate and elegant paean to reason, suffused with a gentle optimism about the future of human culture.

My bedroom also contains a small color television and DVD player. Of the very select DVDs I keep handy in my bedroom, quickly accessible to elevate my mood and mind; Cosmos is first on the shelf.

I miss you, Carl. And yes – love.

Thursday, December 21st, 2006 @ 11:55 pm Uncategorized
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