Articles, Blog

Peter Pilewskie Maniac Lecture, May 24, 2017

September 7, 2019

-So, good afternoon,
and once again, welcome to today’s Maniac talk. I’m, as always,
excited and honored to welcome
Professor Peter Pilewskie from the University
of Colorado Boulder. He had to fly all the way from Boulder to here
to give this talk, so let’s give him
a round of applause so we can make him feel at home. [ Applause ] -[ Speaking indistinctly ] -Fly and come right here, yeah. So, to introduce or to
make a few remarks about Peter, is a colleague who works with him on the Total and Spectral Solar
Irradiance, the TSIS sensor, J. Li, who is with
the Joint Center for Systems Technology at UMBC. And she’s going to invite Peter
to tell us his story in his own words,
in Peter’s words, is a tale
of uncommonly good fortune. Sometimes it is better
to be lucky than good. So, we’ll learn more
about that later on. So for now, J. Li. [ Applause ] -It is my great pleasure to introduce Peter Pilewskie
from LASP, Laboratory for Atmospheric
and Space Physics. Peter is a principal
investigator for TSIS 1, Total and Spectral
Solar Irradiance mission, the best and the most
accurate solar irradiance measurement mission. He is also a co-I for
SORCE mission since 1999, and he joined the
University of Colorado in 2004. And before joining
University of Colorado, he was at NASA Ames
for 15 years. And before that, he studied
at University of Arizona. In addition to TSIS
and SORCE missions, he was involved in many
other missions, including… and many Spaceborne campaigns
and also Triana. And he is currently
working on CLARREO Pathfinder. So, without further ado,
please welcome Peter Pilewskie. [ Applause ] -So, the title —
better lucky than good. What a strange title, right? Yeah, Charles read
my short description to talk about
how I became a scientist, the things that
rouse my curiosity, and the generosity
of some remarkable people who’ve provided inspiration
and guidance along the way. And, you know,
preparing for this, I thought, this is really great that
I’m giving this at Goddard because you’re gonna
hear several names of people at Goddard
who were exactly those people who steered me
in particular directions. But where does this title
come from? Some people have heard this. Certainly, it’s common
in baseball, and in fact, it was first attributed
to Lefty Gomez, who played for the
New York Yankees in the 1930s. Baseball has a large element
of chance in it, and so it’s very apropos. There’s other context of luck
you can think about. Napoleon was purported
to have said, “I don’t want a good general.
I want a lucky one.” But then there’s a golfer,
Gary Player — He is known to have said, “The more I practice,
the luckier I get.” We all know what that means,
of course, and chance plays a role
in many events in one’s life. Talent and effort
can improve the probability of those events
turning in our favor, but since nothing
can be certain and success in our endeavors
cannot be guaranteed, one could argue that the best
that any of us can do is improve the odds
of our success. That’s what we’re always doing. We should always strive
to do just that. But that’s not the point
of this talk. In my interpretation,
in the spirit of the Maniac lectures
because Charles — Did you invent the word?
Does this come from you? So I have no idea why
it’s called Maniac lectures. Now, I think I know
what this is about, and I was given a lot of advance
warning from Charles, from Michael King, whose office
is about 20 feet from mine. And I know you have
all these online, but I didn’t want to watch
a bunch of them because then I would try
to make talks like them. I know Mike Curillo
gave one, but Ralph… So Ralph is the one —
I heard from a few people that said Ralph gave
a great talk. I watched Ralph’s. That’s why
I said you’re my inspiration. So I did watch his,
so I have some context. I didn’t copy yours, though,
although there is part of it that I think
you could have used, actually, and you’ll hear about that. I’m highlighting the events, the major events
that steered the course and provided guidance for future
decision-making in my career. Good fortune, meeting the right
people at the right time played an important part
that I must acknowledge, and that’s what I’m essentially
doing here today. So I’m happy to have the chance
to share this with you. And I start with this. Anybody know this book? Don’t know this book? You don’t read New York Times
best-sellers, which is probably a good thing. Michael Lewis.
Do you know that name? Heard the — probably
his most famous book was — Now I can’t even
remember the name of it, The baseball book. They made a movie. “Moneyball.” The movie has nothing
to do with the book. Well, if you haven’t read — Read “Moneyball,”
but read this book. “The Undoing Project” is a story about the collaboration
of friendship between Israeli psychologists Daniel Kahneman
and Amos Tversky. Their discoveries
in systematic errors in judgment that humans make changed how we think about
decision-making processes. In addition to psychology,
their work impacted medicine, sports, economics,
government regulations, among many other fields. Kahneman won the Nobel Prize
in Economics for his work, along with Tversky
in Behavioral Economics. Tversky would have won. He had died not too long
before that was awarded. But as scientists and engineers
in this room, even if that doesn’t
interest you, it’s a great tale
about the collaboration between these two men. It’s really amazing. I strongly encourage you
to read it. But the reason I bring that up
is this quote by Tversky, which — I just read this book
a few months ago. And Charles gave me about a year
to prepare for this, but of course,
I did nothing in preparing. But I read this quote,
and I thought, you know, this should be
the theme of this talk. He was asked by
another psychologist, “Hey, how did you become
a psychologist?” And his answer was, “It’s hard
to know how people select a course in life. The big choices we make
are practically random. The small choices probably tell
us more about who we are. What field we go
into may depend on which high-school teacher
we happen to meet. Who we marry may depend on
who happens to be around at the right time of life.” I actually validated
that with my wife. She said, “Yeah, that’s true.” And considering that
she moved into the apartment next to me, that actually — that actually worked for me. “On the other hand, the small
decisions are very systematic. That I became a psychologist
is probably not very revealing. What kind of psychologist I am
may reflect deep traits.” This is common. You read a quote like that,
and you think, “Wow. That really makes sense.
Why didn’t I think of that?” Which is like everything
that you read in this book. So that’s really the — That’s
really the heart of this talk. But I’m not talking about
the systematic things. I am talking about the —
about the big things, the things that are
seemingly random. So, I’m gonna tell
a bunch of stories, and those are my titles. I won’t read them all. You’ll see some interesting ones
that I can’t help to — This — Make sure you stay
long enough to see them. “The lion that saved Si-Chee.” [ Laughter ] And by the way,
I e-mailed Si-Chee. I told him he has to be here,
but he’s in Japan, so he can’t be here. And this is a true story.
I didn’t make it up. I couldn’t make it up. Okay. So we’ll cover — Hopefully
we’ll get through these. So, I have a lot of things
from pop culture. Everybody know that movie?
“Goodfellas”? Do you remember when — This is Henry Hill.
Ray Liotta as Henry Hill. This is near the start
of the movie. “As far back as I can remember, I always wanted
to be a gangster.” You hear that,
and I start thinking “Rags to Riches”
by Tony Bennett. I’ve seen — This is —
I love this movie. I would have actually tried
to show the clip of this, but it’s rather violent. Too violent for
a Goddard seminar. So, nope, I didn’t want
to be a gangster, but I always wanted
to be a scientist. I guess that’s also luck. I think in talking to people,
I knew — My earliest memories — I don’t ever remember
not wanting to be a scientist. And so here’s the tale
of my early years. My childhood days were filled
with sports and insects. That’s a picture of my favorite. Both were seasonal, and you had different sports
and different seasons. You had bugs in fewer seasons
than you had sports, but it was bugs that first
excited me about science. I would catch them and read
about them and what I caught, and I would read about other
amazing insects and spiders. I have a memory of
passing out reading assignments to some of my friends. Their reactions
were no different than many of
my colleagues today. They either blatantly
ignored me or they feigned indifference. My first books,
I can still remember — I can see the covers of these —
were gold and nature guides, if any of you remember those. They had series on insects,
arachnids, amphibians, and reptiles. I loved those, too.
Frogs and toads. And I still love
all of these things. And I guess maybe that’s part
of being a scientist, is that you remain a child
your whole life. When most of my other friends
outgrew these things, these things still appeal to me. In fact,
these are pictures of me with two different mantids probably in the
last couple of years. Colorado, by the way,
has got to have the most species
of praying mantises that I’ve ever seen
anywhere that I’ve lived. The brown one there on the left,
and green, and different sizes and lengths. But, to me, really,
really amazing creatures. My wife and kids
know if they see one, they have to catch it for me. They at least have to
take pictures for me. Again, 50 years later, my opinion hasn’t changed
about these things. I would catch these
when I could. They’re not easy to catch.
They’re a bit reclusive. I remember one time catching one
in grade school in late summer. I had it for a few weeks
before the onset of fall. I thought I should let it go
so that it could mate. And if you’re thinking that
I couldn’t have been too young if I already knew about
the birds and the bees, this was back in the day when those sort of things
weren’t taught in school and certainly weren’t taught
by your parents. It was passed down
by older brothers and sisters and kids in the neighborhood, the same one who broke the news
about Santa Claus to you. So we were very mature,
at least in my neighborhood. Anyway, I let the mantis go
so it could mate, but it really,
really depressed me. I recall sobbing almost
uncontrollably in the back shed. My mother hears this and says,
“What’s wrong?” And I said,
“I let my praying mantis go.” And her response
was so perfect — “Why’d you do that if it was
gonna make you feel so bad?” And I thought,
“Yeah, why did I do that?” Anyway… So, why did I want
to be a scientist? I just did. I was fascinated
by the natural world. When I learned that there
were people called scientists who did nothing
but study the natural world, I thought, “That’s for me.” That’s play.
That’s what I do in play. What could be more perfect
than playing for a living? I said I loved sports,
and I still do. Why were my earliest dreams about becoming
something other than an athlete? Most kids want to be
a pro athlete. And I wish I could say
that at a very early age I was smart enough
to know how rare it is to become
a professional athlete, but I certainly
didn’t know that. I’m pretty sure that I thought
I could do that, too. By high school,
I knew that I couldn’t. But it just got me very excited. So I was going to be
a scientist — an entomologist or biologist
or something like that. So, in first grade, I entered
a science fair with a friend, and we made a model solar system
with Styrofoam, like most first-graders do, and we actually won first place
in the first-grade science fair, which probably means
we were very good at coloring. But it was fun.
I did like the planets. But they were too far removed
from reality to get excited about them. You couldn’t see them,
or so I thought, unless you had a telescope,
and I didn’t have one of those. But interestingly enough, it was
very early in grade school, I think third or fourth grade,
I had a teacher — I think I remember
her name was Mrs. McQuoun. She was teaching about planets. And I knew a little bit
about them already, and I was interested,
and she said you could see Venus in the west in the evening sky. And I thought,
“No, you can’t see planets. It just can’t be.” And she said,
“Look in the newspaper. It’ll tell you where to look
and what time.” And I did that. I looked in the sky,
and there it was. And brighter than anything
but the Moon. And, you know,
I just needed to be told. And I was in awe. And now I was
hooked on astronomy. So this thing, the solar system,
is very real, not just a bunch
of Styrofoam balls. Mrs. McQuoun, again,
this is third or fourth grade — I think of her as this
very first Tversky example of somebody who influenced me,
influenced my direction, and it was somewhat by chance. Very much like what he said
in that quote. Because this began my interest
in the physical sciences. It was through that knowledge
of being able to see Venus. So now I had to learn all I
could about the solar system — the stars, the universe. I would take the bus to the
library and read all I could. It didn’t replace entomology. I still took out books
on spiders and insects, but it caught up with it
at least. And I really loved comets. I remember reading about
the Tunguska explosion in 1908 and that it may have been
cause by a comet. We move on a couple of years. 1973. Comet Kohoutek. Who in the room remembers
Comet Kohoutek? Yeah. Right. So I was — It was discovered
in March of ’73. And I would’ve been
in the sixth grade. It was discovered by
the astronomer Kohoutek. He was Czech, but I think it was
in the Hamburg Observatory is where he made his discovery. At the time, it was out
at 4.75 astronomical units. That’s about
the orbit of Jupiter. That was the furthest
that any comet had been discovered
up to this point. And it would reach perihelion
in December. And based on the orbit,
it was assumed that this thing was coming
from the Oort Cloud. This was its first venture
into the inner solar system, so it’d be filled
with all the volatiles that would make this an extremely, extremely
bright event. NASA predicted a -4 magnitude, which is about
the magnitude of Venus. They thought that it might
have this huge tail and cover a quarter of the sky. The NASA predictions, however,
came with a caution that these things
are extremely hard to predict. We just don’t know. It really matters
what this thing is made of. The media, however, forgot that. They ignored the caution,
like they often do when they talk to scientists. And so I was excited. I mean, I remember being practically out of my mind
about this. This book is a real book. I had that book. If anybody’s interested… Actually, I don’t know
if you can read it. It says “Is it a messenger
of doom from outer space or a scientific clue?” Did anybody remember that —
Anybody else read that book? I think they even talked about the comets might be sent
by aliens. So this was a crazy book. If you’re interested,
however, you can… Oh, no.
Oh, I don’t have my… Agh! Oh well. Darn. I didn’t log on to the network. I won’t waste time now
to do that. Um, you can get it
for one cent, if you’re interested in buying
used copies, on Amazon. Um… so… This was –
It never reached this magnitude. I think at the time, it was said
that this was a dirty snowball, and it was filled
with a lot of rock. In fact, I couldn’t help starting to read more
about this. I think the paper by Whipple said that, you know, it really
wasn’t that much of a dud. It did reach -4
but right at perihelion when you can’t see it,
right next to the sun. But it was rocky. I think that it was
eventually determined that it didn’t come
from the Oort Cloud but actually the Kuiper belt. Anyway, I was disappointed.
It was overhyped. I thought this is no different
than the weathermen who predict
a foot or two of snow, which was not uncommon on the
southeastern shore of Lake Erie, where I was raised, who predicted that
only to have a few flurries. So I was upset, but not upset enough
to disillusioned by astronomy. I still loved it. It’s just that this was
a huge event. So I still loved astronomy. I remember one Christmas I got
a small refracting telescope, which was a lot of fun, but I needed a lot more light, and I needed a bigger aperture. I didn’t call it an aperture
at the time. I just knew I needed
a bigger telescope. So a Newtonian reflector
would be perfect. And I had my paperboy money and some savings,
but I had to be frugal. I didn’t have
a whole lot of money. So I ordered this Edmund
Scientific Mirror Grinding Kit. And, again, this was probably
late grade school. I don’t really remember
exactly the years. I was gonna get a 4-1/4-inch
diameter mirror. This is not my picture. You can actually
find these things being sold on eBay unused. What’s fun to read is some
of the comments about these. They say, “Why would anybody
want to grind your mirror? Optics are cheap today. You can get
really good mirrors.” And it’s true. I mean, what you can buy
for a fully built telescope is so inexpensive compared to what it was
in the early ’70s. So this was where the value was
for an eighth-grade paperboy. I didn’t know much about it, but, hey, they had this kit
and all these instructions. Those are pictures.
Those are different abrasives. You start with the most course, and you gradually
go to finer and finer until you get to
the polishing point. And you had to have a stand
to do this. And the Edmunds, since I was
building this whole telescope, they recommended — You know,
you’re gonna need a mount for your telescope anyway. You should use that
for your mirror-grinding stand. So that sounded like
a good idea. My father found the parts
for me. We put it together. The problem was
keeping it stable. This thing would rock a lot. So my fath– Um… All right. Let’s see.
Where am I? So he actually bolted this to the concrete floor
in my garage. To me, that was amazing. Um… But I’ll say a little bit more
about my parents now. You might guess that one or both
were in a profession that influenced
my own interest in science, but that wasn’t the case. Both were first-generation
Americans. Neither had gone to college. My mother was
a hardworking homemaker, mother of six. My father was an electrician,
a member of the International Brotherhood
of Electrical Workers. He worked his way
through the ranks from apprentice to journeyman
and then to foreman. They were smart.
They loved to read. They were devout Catholics. Neither was college-educated, but education was
extremely important to them, that their children’s lives
would be better than their own, which was very much true
of that generation, what we now refer to as
The Greatest Generation, the World War II generation. They sent us all
to Catholic grade schools then to college
preparatory high school. And it was expected
that we would go to college. But they never influenced us to, you know, pursue
any particular discipline. Maybe because they hadn’t gone, they felt ill-prepared
to give that advice. I really don’t know. I just don’t recall
getting that kind of advice. I was just expected
that we would go to school. And I wanted to be a scientist,
so I knew that I would. So there was my dad
mounting the telescope onto the concrete floor,
which was very unusual. He really didn’t indulge
any of our hobbies. He certainly didn’t indulge my
brother’s and my love of sports. He couldn’t stand sports. He thought
you should be working. He was profoundly influenced by growing up
during the Depression. My brother and I
were sports nuts because my mother loved sports. I remember my father coming home
after a hard day’s work, and we’d be playing football
in the neighbor’s yard, and he would ask, “Why
are you rolling in the mud?” He would not even acknowledge
that we were playing football. It was rolling in the mud
to him. Um… But the science hobbies,
these hobbies of mine, they weren’t passions of his,
but he’d help out, which was, again, I think
somewhat remarkable for him. Another story —
Back to the praying mantises. In my senior year
in high school, I was raising mantids from
a little egg case from birth and I had to catch their food
and feed them, which was kind of fun. In late summer,
I actually had to leave home to go to football camp, and I had a problem ’cause I had
to keep these mantises growing. I had to train my parents
to go around and look for little bugs
and feed them. And, you know,
it was pretty amazing. They had never done
anything like this, never showed any interest,
but they did. And this is the allure
of the mantis. People end up being amazed
by these creatures. By the time I came home,
I had to fight with them to take back control
of the feeding. That’s how much they loved this. My father was a product
of the Depression. I, too, was profoundly
influenced by his focus on work. I took a job in high school at a
place called Erie County Farms, which was a fresh-produce
and meat market. Sometimes I would work
as many as 40 hours a week during the school year. That’s part-time
during the school year. In summers, I’d often work
60 to 80 hours a week. I worked there in college,
as well, during the summertime. My parents, although they could
afford to put me through school, I did it myself
with the money I earned, at this job and other odd jobs
that I had. And to this day,
this remains the achievement that I’m most proud of. It makes me realize,
and I knew it at the time, what a privilege it is to do
what we do, to do science. And, you know,
every once in a while, when you say,
“Boy, I’m working so hard,” you really have to
catch yourself and realize how lucky we are
to have the opportunity. If this is hard work —
And it is. I’m not saying that it isn’t. But we are very privileged. So, I maintained my interest
in science through high school. Students who did well in math
and science were encouraged to pursue business
and engineering in college, which I thought
was the craziest thing. Why weren’t we encouraged
to go into math and science? The results of my high-school
aptitude test suggested that I should be
a civil engineer. And I very well
may have pursued that, but I had no idea
what an engineer did. I loved astronomy,
and I would’ve pursued that. Somewhere along the line,
I was led to believe that that wasn’t the
most practical thing to do. And then entomology —
I would’ve done that, but I couldn’t figure out
what they did other than get hired
by extermination companies who were interested
in removing insects, so I didn’t want
to do that, either. I was looking at some rather
expensive, small private schools in Pennsylvania
to study physics. My father said, “Why don’t
you look at Penn State?” And I did. It turns out I really
loved weather, as well. And after learning about
the great meteorology program at Penn State,
I decided to go there. And so that’s where I went
as an undergraduate. Never got excited about synoptic
and dynamic meteorology. And I think
I probably set a record for Penn State
meteorology students. I took the minimum. I think the minimum requirement was one synoptic
meteorology class, and that’s what I did. I could find fronts and other
features on a weather map, but it just didn’t excite me. I wanted to have fun.
I enjoyed physics. I took most of my technical
electives in physics. And as an example
of my practical side, I had enough credits
for a double major, but that would cost more money. I would have to pay more money
to get that double major. And so what’s the point?
I took the classes. That’s the only thing
that matters. And, really, that’s true.
Who cares what the degree says? So… But the greatest luck
in my life — And, again, this is — The person
in this sort of random… happenings in life
that affected my life at that point
and for the next 35 years, more than any other person,
was Craig Bohren. I met him either late
in my junior year — I think he came to Penn State
in my junior year. And I saw him around. And early in my senior year, I took his
radiative transfer class, which was more like
an atmospheric optics course. And this changed the course
of my academic and, ultimately,
my professional career. There’s a picture of Craig.
I don’t have a lot of pictures. There ones I do are
probably more at the time
when I knew them then. I’m still very close to Craig
and have other pictures now. If you look for Craig now,
you’ll find him with his dogs. He’s been retired from
Penn State for a while and is an amazing
dog trainer now. Um… But meeting him, it changed
the course of my academic and, ultimately, my professional
career and life, really. I could give a lot of examples. I could talk —
A lot of Bohren stories. And, again,
he’s a very dear friend still. I think I’ve become even closer
since I started teaching. But I will say that his most
profound influence on me was that he steered me
to the University of Arizona, the same place that he received
his PhD in physics. And then he was later
an instructor in the Department
of Atmospheric Science. And he sent me to work
with Sean Twomey, who was the greatest
scientific influence on me. It would’ve never happened
without Craig. What luck. I also met Don Huffman
at Arizona. Every Fridays, beer with
Huffman and Twomey. Steve Platnick would come along. For anybody studying
atmospheric radiation, I don’t think
you can get much better than being mentored by
Twomey, Bohren, and Huffman. And there really is the title
of the talk right there. Again, those of you
who are familiar with atmospheric radiation can really appreciate now
that title. There’s Sean. We don’t have
a lot of good pictures of Sean. Steve and I know about this. In writing his obituary
a few years ago, very hard to find good pictures. And this is closer
to how Sean would’ve looked when Steve and I knew him
at the University of Arizona. For those of you
not in atmospheric sciences, I would say
just Google his name. I’m not going to spend
a lot time talking about him. He was a giant. He taught me how to think
like a scientist. He was a horseman. He loved Thoroughbred racing.
He loved horses. And most stories he told,
and most events in life, and chronology,
always were synchronized with different winners of great horse races
throughout the years. But I remember one time,
we were probably at the pub, and he was talking
about a trainer, Charlie Whittingham, who — There was some great race
that was being televised. And there was another trainer
by the name of Neil Drysdale, and the reporter asked Charlie what he thought
about Neil Drysdale. And it turns out that Drysdale
apprenticed under Whittingham. And Whittingham —
His response was, “Well, I taught him
everything he knows, but I didn’t teach him
everything I know.” And Twomey loved that. And there’s the quote there. And that was funny.
And I thought about it. You know, it only took me
a couple minutes to think, “Wait a second. I could say the same thing
about Sean.” He taught me everything I know. He didn’t teach me
everything that he knows. The difference is
that Whittingham — In fact, in hearing
Sean tell this story, he had a little smirk
on his face, because that’s a pretty funny
little saying there. But the difference
is that it wasn’t because Sean didn’t try to teach us
everything he knows. Sean was unique, and I can say
for myself at least, I don’t have the capacity
to know everything Sean knows. But, again, I think it’s true.
Different context. And, in fact, that’s another
hallmark of Sean and Craig and Don Hoffman and others — the amazing generosity
of these people. I mean, they — And, again,
that’s the great fortune. So, here’s an example of
something that motivated Sean. This is an example
of a typical description you’ll find
in a meteorology text on how you can
discriminate cloud phase based on its morphology, based on the macrostructure
of the cloud. This is actually in a book,
in a recent book. In the example,
when I was a student — I started there in 1983 — he would refer
to the UK Met Office meteorological handbook. You’d see
a very similar description. So this hasn’t changed
in 35 years. Says “The growing cumulus clouds
in the foreground with well-defined boundaries contained primarily
small droplets. The higher cloud behind
with fuzzy boundaries is an older glaciated cloud
full of ice crystals.” And that very well
might be true, but it’s not because
of the morphology. In fact, this is where I got to
think about your talk, Ralph. This is correlation
vs. causality, right? So the microphysics is not
determining the morphology. It’s got to be something else.
This would drive Sean nuts. And so he says,
“We have to invent a way to do remote sensing
to discriminate cloud phase based on the differences
between liquid water
and ice absorption.” So that became my PhD project, was to build
a infrared spectrometer, attach it to a telescope,
and point it at clouds. So I will jump to my very first
conference that I attended, which was the AMS
Radiation Conference in Williamsburg in 1986. How many went
to that meeting here? All right. Um… And this is a little bit
of a repeat of a talk. I was invited to talk at Warren Wiscombe’s retirement
a few years ago, which was a lot of fun,
and I reminisced about this. In fact,
this is when I met Warren. I also met here at this meeting
these guys. That’s Brian Toon on the right
and Tom Ackerman on the left. I’m not sure if Ackerman
was at this meeting, but I put them here
because these guys were referred to
as the “coated sphere guys.” They wrote
the first stable algorithm to do MU calculations
for coated spheres. And these were heroes of mine. You would see these papers,
and then to see these guys for the first time in a meeting
was pretty exciting. I love to tell the story,
by the way. I was hired at Ames,
and I started at Ames in ’89. I think it was ’87, late ’87,
that I interviewed. These guys were both at Ames
at the time. They became very famous for
their work on nuclear winter, and that paper
had been published not long before my interview. But I walk into the room to give
my talk and I see these two, and I’m just in awe. But it’s nothing to do
with nuclear winter. These are coated-sphere guys. You know? This was great stuff. Um… And, then, there’s this guy, who
was known as the “Big Drop Guy.” And, Steve,
I think we know that — This must’ve been
Sean’s influence. We had nicknames for everybody,
right? But Warren was the Big Drop Guy. He invoked an unmeasured part
of the droplet-size spectrum, large drop,
to explain some puzzling radiative properties of clouds. So I was aware of this,
by the way. Twomey and I knew about this,
and we thought that this could explain
some of our measurements, but I didn’t think
a whole lot of it. I thought I was prepared. This is sort of an example
of what I did. There’s a… growing cumulonimbus turret. I’d point the telescope
at a portion of the cloud, record a spectrum
that looked something like these two spectra here. These are just what
we call normalized signal. Don’t worry about
what the units are. And you’d see these big changes. Distinguish
cloud A from cloud B. It’s really the same cloud
measured at different times. They didn’t necessarily change
their morphology very much. But you’d get this
big change at 1.6 microns, which you could attribute to changing from
liquid water to ice. And so this is more or less
what I presented at the meeting. And I thought
it went pretty well. Oh, by the way —
So, at this meeting… This was a trick
that Twomey did. This is an example
of his generosity. 30-minute talk.
He was an invited talk. He gave the first 10 minutes and
then handed over the rest to me, which was pretty fascinating
if you think about it. And it’s a trick that I used
to give my own student a talk at an AGU meeting
a few years ago. The interesting thing is,
I remember afterwards hearing a couple people say,
“Boy, it sure would’ve been nice to hear Twomey talk
for 30 minutes.” And I didn’t take it
as an insult, you know? He didn’t attend meetings
very often. But funny — When I did this
with my student, I never heard anybody say
that they wanted to hear me talk for 30 minutes, so… Anyway, I thought it went well. Afterwards, a lot of people
come up and talked to me, congratulated me,
and I was in pure euphoria. Oh, sorry. Sorry.
I got to jump back. So, there was a question,
though, and it was… There was a few questions,
which were benign, but then this guy stands up,
another name I heard but never met before —
Graeme Stephens. And he’s sitting
right next to Warren Wiscombe. And Stephens asked the question,
and he said, “Hey, you can explain that
by big drops.” Now, I repeated the same story
during Wiscombe’s retirement, and I said the same thing. And Graeme denies now
that he ever said that, that he never was
a proponent of big drops. So now I know for sure
that my version is correct. But anyway,
he asked that, you know, “Can’t you explain that
by big drops?” And I said, “No.” And I use an argument
based on cloud physics. But I couldn’t explain it
with my own measurements. And this is —
So, this is Bob Curran. He was the session chair,
and he did a summary of this. And here. I’ll just blow up
this section here. Questions were raised about
“the possibility that quantitative interpretation
on ground-based observations could be made more difficult by suspected particle-size
dependencies.” And that was a fair summary. But, again,
so after the talk, you know, I’m getting a lot
of congratulations. And, you know, like I said,
I was — I was euphoric. My first major talk. Um… But, um… Bohren, Craig Bohren,
who happened to come down from Penn State
to the same meeting — again, my very first mentor. And comes up to me and says, “Why didn’t you answer
that question?” I said,
“I did answer the question.” He says, “No, you didn’t!” And I was pissed off now. Now I was angry.
I was angry at Sean. I was certainly angry
at Warren Wiscombe. But I got motivated. And, okay, he said
I didn’t do it? Then we’ll do it.
We’ll do it unambiguously. That motivated me to extend
the wavelength sensitivity of the instrument
out to 2.5 microns to be able to get another
atmospheric window region, which I did here. Now you see this feature here
is one that I did not have in the early version
of the instrument. And I had a little bit
better resolution. The red lines are the peaks
for one spectrum. The blue lines are the peaks
for the other. The shift in those lines have to do with
the change in cloud phase. We immediately sent a letter to
Journal of Atmospheric Science. It was accepted
with no revisions by — what editor? —
Graeme Stephens. So that was a great lesson
to be persistent, and I thank Craig for that. He was not one coming up
and slapping me on the back and telling me
what a great job I did. So that’s basically — That’s what I did
for my graduate career. From there, I went on to Ames. And how did I get to NASA Ames? This is another one
of Tversky’s chance happenings. Maybe things are becoming
a little more systematic by this time. Michael King,
another Goddard alum, who was a University of Arizona
alum, same department, about 10 years prior — maybe a little more —
prior to my time there. He was visiting
his old department. It was some time in the 1980s. He comes into Twomey’s lab. I was working. Sean was there.
Sean introduces us. And I can remember to this day,
he says to — He tells Michael
to get me a job. And then he followed up, “But I don’t want him
to become a modeler.” So Michael had his work
cut out for him. But it wasn’t too long
after that that Sean gets a call from Francisco Valero. Valero was asking about me, when I was finishing,
would I be a good candidate for a postdoctoral
position at Ames? Um… But Francisco at that time
was making a transition from planetary to earth science, so I don’t think
he really knew who Sean was. He certainly
didn’t know who I was. So this was definitely Michael
who tipped him off, and I’ve confirmed this
with Michael. So thank you to Michael King. So I started there. I started at Ames in ’89. Things got really busy in ’91. We did a couple of experiments,
the first of which I show here, is the Kuwait oil fires. These are great pictures
by a photographer, National Geographic
photographer who flew on most
of the missions with us. The NCAR Electra was also
participating in this mission. There are some pictures,
closeup of the fire. There’s a typical sunset
that we’d have in Bahrain. You could always discern — Well, you could discern the disc
of the sun through the smoke, but always dimmed. And so that’s pretty amazing. Another picture from the
University of Washington. C-131. What looks like stratus clouds
are actually smoke clouds from the oil fires. There were climactic effects
predicted of this, predicted from these clouds. I don’t know if those
of you here, you might recall. I mean, it was considered that this might be
a mini nuclear-winter scenario. These things would heat
and self-loft, and if they get
to the stratosphere, it could be transported
around the globe. That never happened. Dynamics sort of stabilized
these layers. Our job was to measure the
heating from these smoke clouds. We measured heating
as high as 24 Kelvin, instantaneous heating
at 24 Kelvin a day, which is pretty amazing. They never got much above
4 1/2 kilometers, so… I don’t want to talk too much
about science, though. I want to go to this picture. Who remembers that guy? Some of you do, I know. That’s Michael King. That’s a future EOS project —
I think it was future. I don’t think he was senior
project scientist by 1991. I doubt. And I say he’s on his best
behavior because that — Well, you’ll hear
in a second here. In the interest of fair play, I will show what I looked
like 26 years ago, so… 26 years, right? So, anyway, there was
a hole in this — There was a LIDAR port
in this plane. It was unpressurized. There was no LIDAR,
so there’s a big hole that we would sit next to. Our station, I don’t know,
was right behind. This is the cloud
absorption radiometer that Michael was flying, looking
at bidirectional reflectance. And the future EOS
project scientist was finishing his lunch. He had an apple core,
and some other unnamed scientist
encouraged him to — We were flying over
the Persian Gulf. “Why don’t you toss that out
the LIDAR hole?” So he did, and we can always
tell funny stories about how he was throwing
projectiles out of the airplane. We had some
interesting cases here. By the way,
this is a great resource. This Cloud and Aerosol
Research Group at University of Washington
was led by Peter Hobbs. Has a bunch of great pictures,
and that’s where I found these. The captions on the one
on the right here — The temperature in the cabin was 110 Fahrenheit
on that flight. We had another flight
where we only learned — The pilots only told us
about this after the flight, but they had some problem
with their relaying the radio frequencies
to air-traffic control, so they had
no communication with us. And apparently, again,
we learned this later, but we had a Saudi gunboat
that was trained on us for a good portion
of our mission. But we are here
to talk about it. That was in May of ’91,
April/May of ’91, no rest. Mount Pinatubo erupted. Got to go back out
and look at this, look at the radiative effects
of Pinatubo. I won’t go through
all of the numbers here, but this was a big eruption. Ejected more particulate
into the atmosphere than any eruption
since Krakatoa, so more than a century
before Pinatubo. Once again, we want to look
at radiation effects. And we think that the global
temperature has dropped by about
a half a degree Celsius, which is interesting
and important, but within natural variability, so it’s kind of hard
to understand the direct climate impacts
from that. This is a picture
from Space Shuttle that was not too long
after the eruption of Pinatubo. You can see the stratosphere.
Pretty impressive. And this is just pictures
of optical depths. So Pat McCormick at Langley
was the P.I. of this mission, and Pat was pretty smart. We only had to get down
to the latitude of Pinatubo. We didn’t have to go
to Pinatubo. So where do we go? Barbados. That’s not a bad place
to do one of these missions. Within two or three weeks, the
cloud had encircled the Earth. So we measured. There’s the
latitudinal dependence of the thickness of the cloud. So, we come back
from this mission, and Francisco’s getting
a lot of phone calls from local radio stations
to do interviews. What’s gonna be
the effect of this? This was a big deal,
if those of you here remember. I mean, both of these missions
were big deals with potentially
big climate impacts. And he handled a bunch
of these calls, of course, and then he goes on vacation. And so a call comes in,
and who’s next in line? It’s me. And this one’s
from “CBS Evening News.” Wow. And this was back —
Was CNN around already by 1991? I can’t remember.
But this is at a time where I think most people
got their news from the evening news. They come out, they filmed me,
interviewed me, talked to me about
the climate impacts, which, of course,
I knew nothing, you know? All I knew about
were these measurements, so I was very cautious. So I was gonna be famous
very early in my career. But not quite. And why? The night that
this was supposed to air, August 19, 1991, again history
on the failed coup attempt against Gorbachev’s
Democratic reforms. I don’t know if any of you
notice the bullet. I said I was — What did I say?
Upstaged by Gorbachev. But there’s Yeltsin standing on
a tank defying the Soviet army. Um… So they’re not gonna interrupt,
you know, on a day like this. When you have 30 minutes,
you’re not gonna interrupt to talk about an eruption
of a volcano and climate impact. So didn’t make it. Never did. I heard back from the producers,
who said, “You know, you were just too cautious.
You didn’t give us enough.” And, you know, that made me —
That was a great lesson there. And to this day, I’m pretty cautious
talking to media types because it’s risky. Unless I can see their copy, I’m leery of doing it
for just these reason. The stuff that gets broadcast is
usually the more dramatic stuff that, you know — that’s what they want to hear. So that’s early ’90s. Mid-’90s, I have to give some
attention to cloud absorption. This was either famous
or infamous. Take your pick. Got in a lot of trouble
with this. But I really stand
by what we did. I’m proud of what we did
with this paper. The figure there
shows the net irradiance down minus up from two levels, two aircraft flying in tandem, the NASA ER-2
about the DC-8 below. And you take the difference
of those, and you get absorption
in the layer. And, of course,
our assessment was that you can’t really explain
this amount of absorption with our models. This became very controversial. I like to repeat a saying that I learned later
when I came to LASP. George Lawrence is essentially
the genius inventor of the Total and Spectral
Irradiance Monitors that measure solar radiance
first from SORCE. They’ll fly on TSIS. George is long since retired,
but he had a saying — “To explain a 10% effect,
look for ten 1% effects.” And, you know, this seems
to always be true. We want to find
one smoking gun, and there’s several
usually smaller guns. This was certainly true
in this case. I’m not gonna go through
all of the reasons, all of the things
that led to resolving this. But I do want to show
a statement near the end of our paper,
near the conclusion of our paper that people who did manage to read beyond
the title of the paper and actually read the paper
appreciated, and we said that
“Further examination must rely on more
spectral measurements, particularly in
the near-infrared, where liquid-water absorption
and ice absorption became important.” All of the evidence
that was used at this time had been broadband, but you need the information content
and spectral measurements. Things that I did
as a graduate student hadn’t been using yet at Ames. I have several slides here,
which are more updated, showing essentially
the resolution of this problem when you do this spectrally, where we have no problem
matching measurement and model. I would say if you look
for the biggest thing, though, it really is a sampling problem. It really is the assumption that there’s no
horizontal flux divergence when you’re using
vertical flux divergence solely for your measurement
of absorption. This is a pretty neat spectrum, which shows a very
different absorption spectral that you get for liquid water
in red or ice cloud in blue. The ice cloud in blue
is very high. There’s no water-vapor
absorption. Those get all filled in. Those dominate
the water-cloud absorption. There’s overlap
between the vapor bands and liquid-water bands’
absorption. It’s this feature down here. The reason I show this —
This is the pesky feature. There were people that had ideas
on how you could remove — Using statistics,
remove the sampling issue, and you could remove it
in part with broadband. But spectral
is really the key here, and I give Sebastian Schmidt
my colleague at LASP a lot of credit for really
being able to explain that. I mean, we figured that has to be molecular
absorption down there. It has to be
horizontal flux divergence being dominated
by molecular absorption. And with Sebastian,
who quantified that that, in fact, was the effect. So, I lived through that. Like I said, we got in a lot
of trouble with that, but I think progress was made. And often through these type
of debates and that, you have to have
the stamina to continue and make the progress. SAFARI — So important that
it had two separate logos. Why did SAFARI
have two logos, Charles? -Michael King’s daughter. -Did the bottom one? Yeah. So… And, again, I don’t want
to cloud this story too much ’cause this might be
the highlight of the talk. So by this time,
I’m flying spectrometers. I would say a series of papers that I worked on
with Bob Bergstrom, we quantified absorption spectra
in those clouds. An interesting comparison
with other types of absorption. Let’s say, for example,
dust clouds where, you know, absorption always increases
with decreasing wavelength. We get confused when we use
single scattering albedo as the measure of absorption. But that quantity there
on the left, the optical thickness times
the co-albedo — one minus the single scattering
albedo is all that matters. So if there’s none
of that stuff, if there’s no optical thickness, it doesn’t matter
how much your particle or how small the single
scattering albedo is. So actually, the spectral
behavior absorption is a lot more well-behaved among
different species, I think, than we used
to consider. More of the same. But here’s an
interesting story, though. The lion that saved Si-Chee. Everybody knows that guy. This is from 1991, about
a decade before this experiment, and the picture on the left. The picture on the right,
we were at another experiment called ASTEX
in the Azores in 1992. We’re pretty small in there,
but we’re in that picture. Turns out that —
So I was stationed at Petersburg with the ER-2 and the University
of Washington — No, that was the 580
by that time. Putting instruments in both
of these aircraft, extremely busy time at the start
of the flight mission, getting instruments
on the plane, integrated, calibrated. And there was gonna be
a press event one day, and Si-Chee comes up from — He had a ground station down in the Skukuza Camp in Kruger National Park. And he comes up for this press
event and spends the day. I had no time for that. We were working on the aircraft. And then Si-Chee — It turns out
that at his ground site, Si-Chee had one
of our instruments that he had in his ground site. He already used it before. In fact, he may
have been keeping it. So he knew how to use
the sensor, but he insisted that I need to go down there
and set it up for him, which I couldn’t understand. And so he insisted, insisted. Said, “Okay, we’ll do it.” And me and Larry Pezzolo,
colleague of mine at Ames, got in the car
and we had to disrupt a very, very busy time
on the aircraft, drive down. I don’t even remember
how long of a drive it was, but I don’t —
Bob, do you? Yeah. So we drive and back. And we get to this site,
and it’s already set up. I don’t know
what he was talking about. You know, this was already done. He was running it. And, you know, what a waste. He just took a whole day
away from us. And so anyway, it was late,
so we stayed overnight there, and Larry and I
have to get up. And, you know,
I’m fuming by this time. I mean, I am mad. And so, you know,
we’re here at Kruger, so, you know, why don’t
we drive around a little bit? Now, I don’t know if I’m
gonna have any more time. Then we thought —
I think we reserved maybe an hour to drive around
this probably the most incredible
wildlife reserve in the world. And we’re looking around,
and we see a bunch of things that look like deer and that. You know, okay,
we’re getting it on. Said, “Okay, Larry,
we got to get out of here. We got to get back.” So we’re about to leave, and there’s a VW van parked
on the side of the road. They’ve got a higher
perch than us. And I said, “Well,
if they’re parked, they must see something.” So we drive by, slowly drive by, and I get the attention
of the people in the van. I’m like,
“What are you looking at?” And they said, “There’s two
lions mating in that brush.” Wow, okay. So we pulled behind them,
and we’re waiting. And we’re looking
and we’re looking. Don’t see anything. We’re not high enough
to see anything. So all right, that’s it. We gave it another 20 minutes. We got to go. And again, I am furious
at Si-Chee for this incredible
waste of time. As we’re ready to pull out,
looked on the road, and there’s this animal
walking up the road. I don’t know if you can
see him yet. A little longer,
coming a little closer. Closer yet. Wow. Now, I’ve only
seen lions in zoos. Here’s one walking up
the road to us. And the remarkable part —
Again, we have people — Bob Swap back there, Steve,
you did SAFARI, right? Charles knows — Seeing lions isn’t
necessarily very common, right? I mean, you usually have
to spend some time. Here I spent all of an hour, and here’s one just
moseying up the road. Starting to get real close
to the car, and the reason I think that one
doesn’t come up too well is I probably rolled up the
window really quickly, you know? He approaches the car
and then takes this turn right toward the bush where these other two
were purportedly mating, according to the people
in the VW van. There he is heading
into the bush now. Well, this is really
gonna be interesting. I think I have one more picture
of his behind. I didn’t get any more,
but as he heads in there, I finally see the other two. Their heads pop up. So I could see these other two. I think I have picture. You can’t make them
out in the picture. And I thought, “Yeah,
this is gonna be violent.” He then goes on his back
and puts his paws up in the air in just the most
amazing display. By the way, you know, the lion is the praying mantis
of the mammal world, so… So in its own right,
a very amazing animal. And I was no longer mad
at Si-Chee. This lion saved Si-Chee. To this day —
And I told Si-Chee to come — To this day, Si-Chee’s
never heard that story, so I hope Si-Chee
watches this now. And I thank him for it. You know, I mean, yeah, I would
have not had this opportunity if he didn’t make up the story about needing me
to set his instrument up. So what a great story. Saw lions. And we had colleagues there that
had more time off than we did who saw a lot of animals, didn’t necessarily see lions. So we got lucky. How did I get to LASP? Okay, this, I think,
is an interesting story. Of course, we think
all the stories about ourselves
are interesting. And the way I’ll tell this story
is about the history of TSIS, which J brought up about
my involvement with TSIS. And I clearly can’t go
through this whole chronology, but, you know,
this actually goes back to the start of NPOESS, even before NPOESS under
the Clinton administration, and Clinton and Gore said, “Hey, why did we have
all these agencies doing — sending spacecraft
into lower Earth orbits? Why don’t we merge all these?” And that was essentially
how NPOESS started. But there’s a chronology — of those who love
the NPOESS acronyms, there was IORD, the Integrated
Operation Requirements Document, and it was published in 1997, which established what were called
environmental data records, which I think we later corrected
to be climate data records. We go to the next page. Also in ’97, NASA
announces an opportunity for the Total Solar Irradiance Mission to continue
the total solar irradiance measurements that
had begun in 1978. This was to follow ACRIM. TSIS was also to provide
spectral irradiance measurements in the 200-300 nanometer and 1,500 nanometer
spectral bands as part of an agreement
with the IPO. These were the so-called NPOESS
requirements of TSIS. There were three proposals. LASP and NRL proposals
were selected for a run-off. Well, actually,
I need to jump back, back to the release
of this proposal, before we get
to the selection. In 1997, I’m at Ames
doing airborne measurements. Bob Curran, who was
the program manager for the Radiation
Science Program, invited me to visit Roger
Helizon’s lab at JPL. Roger Helizon built
the ACRIM instruments. Dick Wilson, who was
the PI of ACRIM, had moved on to Columbia. But JPL was thinking
of proposing to this. But before that time,
I got to — I met Roger. We hit it off. The idea was maybe I would use
his Table Mountain facilities to do calibration of my aircraft
measurements. And so he knew that I did
spectral measurements. He thought, you know, that we thought
maybe we can collaborate. I would work
on the spectral parts, the 200-300 nanometers
and 1,500 nanometer band. They would do the total
solar irradiance measurements. For whatever reasons,
the JPL proposal didn’t get off the ground. But word travels fast
who’s working on what. This isn’t a really
large community. Up to that point,
I had no experience in solar irradiance
observations, but it turns out I ended up
being selected to participate in the review panel for TSIM. And this eventually, you know, this actually
taught me a lesson. You know, sometimes it is better
to propose for no other reason than you don’t have
to review proposals. But this is when —
this is when I learned or first met the LASP team. I learned a lot
about space missions. But I learned about
the LASP team that was led by Gary Rottman, who was the principal
investigator, the instrument scientist
for the TIM and the SIM, George Lawrence, and I met the program manager, Tom Sparn, sitting in
the audience here, as well. But back to the chronology,
TSIM was awarded to LASP. That became SORCE. Not too long after that, the SORCE project
scientist Bob Cahalan, another Goddard alum, recommended that I become a member
of the SORCE science team. So this was an
incredible opportunity. It was a great opportunity
to learn more about the SORCE science team. I got to know Gary. Brian Toon, who had already
migrated to Colorado, was in the Atmospheric
and Oceanic Sciences Department. I was talking to
the both of them, and turns out I eventually
went there in 2004. I know Bob Cahalan always brings
this up that he recommended me to be on the science team. His intent wasn’t actually
for me to go to LASP, though. But I did. And, you know, I was rebitten
by the space bug. And if you notice one
of my bullets there, I had to leave NASA
to get into space. And as crazy as that sounds,
earth science at Ames was airborne science. There were no
space missions at Ames. There still are
no space missions at Ames. I love that work, but I thought
this was a great opportunity. So back to this chronology. So LASP was awarded the contract
for the solar irradiance instruments on NPOESS. 2005, Gary retires. Now, is that coincidence
or correlation? To this day, I don’t know
’cause I just started in 2004. I hope it wasn’t me. But Gary retired and asked me
to replace him as TSIS PI. The rest is all the terrible
jumble of history. It’s got a great story, though. We’re gonna launch this year. We got TSIS project management
sitting right up in front here. Very excited to fly this. So this was a great story,
a great opportunity for me. I just wanted to jump back
a little bit, okay? So that’s in 2005. I get to BPI.
I get this handed to me. And, again, what luck. Back in this time frame — And I don’t know
the exact years, but some time in the late ’90s, I worked with Francisco Valero
on the Triana proposal. You might remember Triana. Well, before it was
called Triana, there was something that was referred to as Goresat. We’re gonna put
something out at L-1 and measure the full
disc of the Earth. NASA said, “Okay, to do that, we’ve got to do
some real science,” and so they competed this. I worked on this proposal. You know, in my opinion,
in my memory, I did quite a bit. I did all of the — I selected
all the channels for the camera. I wrote the proposal. I did all of
the retrieval concepts. I actually introduced Francisco
to the NISTAR team, Joe Rice
and Steve Lorentz, who was at NIST at the time. This gets selected
within months. All of the near-infrared
cloud channels get de-scoped. And, you know, Francisco
is down at Scripps. I was at Ames. I wasn’t terribly interested
in science anymore when the cloud channels
were de-scoped, so I sort of de-scoped myself. Triana gets —
Well, it became DSCOVR. It gets launched — when was it? — couple years ago now,
I think. NASA competed to do science
with those measurements. I see teams that got selected to
do cloud retrievals, you know. And I’m thinking,
“Boy, you know, I actually was
on the ground floor of that and wrote a lot of the concept
that was selected, and now I have nothing
to do with this.” Should I be bitter? And, you know,
I go back to this, to the 2005 when I was asked
to replace Gary, and, you know, if any time I think I should be bitter, I remember this, you know. Things in this business
change in funny ways, and things that you
have a lot to do with you get removed from, but you jump into other things and you get asked
to do other things. And so this was
an amazing opportunity. You know, you just got
to keep fighting for your opportunities,
and they’ll come. So, like I said,
this was fortunate. To be at LASP is just
an incredible opportunity. I just want to finish
with this slide. I’m not gonna go
through the details. A couple years ago,
I was asked by Bruce Jakosky, who many at Goddard know Bruce, who’s the principal investigator
for the MAVEN mission to Mars — he was running a seminar series
on PI training. He wanted to have
some of the PIs in the lab give some lectures
on lessons learned. This is one slide. And there is some advice here, but this second bullet —
Be persistent. Be ready to repeat what you
are sure you have already done. And working on TSIS brings
to mind a certain movie, and that’s “Groundhog Day.” Those of you who
know “Groundhog Day,” Bill Murray spends
the entire movie locked onto one day. And that day just goes over
and over and over. And I knew he was a pretty
despicable character, but he gained a lot of traits. He became a nice character,
and I think at that time, he was able to escape
Groundhog Day. He learned how to carve ice,
play the piano, gained all these skills. I have not gained those skills
working on TSIS, but, you know, I think it has
taught me patience, and my guess is when
I actually acquire patience for sure, we’re gonna launch. And so I think by November,
I will have patience. Just as a tribute
to my colleague, I want to go through
my last bullet. And I didn’t just put this
in here for Tom Sparn. I actually showed this
during the PI training series. Make use of the incredible
talent around you. And more specific, get Tom Sparn
to be program manager. And, again, talk about luck. You know, I guess
that would be the last and maybe best piece
of advice I give. Work with good people. They’ll make you good. Seek good people out. I can’t think of anything — any better advice
than I could give than that. So, thanks for your attention. Sorry that I went long. [ Applause ]

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