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I
was born on January 2nd 1985, in the suburban city of Littleton
Colorado -the youngest of three brothers and a sister. Our artist
mother provided us with the opportunity and encouragement to
build creative childhoods. This is something I am grateful for.
I realize how essential those times were
to the growth which has shaped my
thoughts and who I am today. The connections I am making
now, are deeply rooted by an abundance of imagination.
The
receptivity, and sensitivities experienced as a child are something
I remember
vividly. The feelings, tastes, smells, sights, and sounds
that composed my childhood are held close to my heart.
We
lived in a neighborhood where, for the most part, each house
looked just like the other; same tan colors, same perfectly
cut and chemically treated lawns with trimmed bushes in rows.
If
you had passed by on the street where we grew up, you probably
would have noticed our earthy green and bright orange house,
with a magical yard full of happy yellow dandelions, many
buzzing bees and fluttery butterflies, grass growing tall,
wild flowers flourishing, and gardens all around.
In our backyard was a small pond with
some goldfish and a trickling waterfall. A slab of red rock
on a tree stump created a table used for picnics and meals
when family and friends gathered. If the wind was blowing,
a peaceful ringing of wind chimes filled the air. A tree house
with a zipline added another level of excitement to our backyard
activities.
Our garage stored tools and tires, wires
and windows, tents and tables, sticks and stoves. It was not
very well lit, was often cold, and had a distinct "old
garage" smell to it. The side door was left open so our
cats could walk in and eat from their bowls. Sometimes entire
families of skunks and raccoons would visit at night for some
premium food and fresh water!
Inside we had a block box, a sock box,
a costume box, there were things everywhere, engineering tools,
art supplies, pieces of wood, metal wheels and gears, fish
tanks, toys, and speakers. In front of almost every window
were plants and colored glass bottles, small items like wire
figures, and interestingly shaped rusty metal objects.
We
all had our own distinct interests and projects we were working
on. Quite often, it was a wild house, I remember hearing these
sounds; doors slamming, people yelling, power tools running,
loud music playing, pounding on the piano, vacuuming, the
heater firing up, the dishwasher running, the washing machine
off balance and thumping loudly.
When it was warm out, you would have seen me playing with
the hose, spraying bees and running away from them. I enjoyed
being outside walking everywhere barefoot and doing exciting
things like
riding my bike as fast as I could up the street, pulling a
wagon behind me with a rope.
Sleeping
outside on summer nights was especially nice, and these are
things that I remember: Laying on foam mattresses in the grass
with my head up, looking at the moon glowing through the branches,
breathing the fresh air sweetly scented by the flowers on
the trees all around. Hearing the leaves move with each gust
of wind, and eventually drifting off to sleep with the chirping
crickets. Waking up with the sun on my face and blue jays
yapping, leaf hoppers hopping on my blanket, and a lady bugs
crawling on my arms.
I
remember watching intense lightening storms from our front
porch; the bright blue and white illuminations that lit the
sky, and how powerful the thunder was that shook our entire
house. The continuous thundering from right over head, to
the deep rumbles way off in the distance. The pouring rain
that overfilled our gutters and splashed to the ground all
around the house. It was exhilarating and frightening, it
was energizing and calming, all at the same time.
I
remember times when the rain had died down, and the storms
had moved on, the earthy smell of minerals that filled the
air as steam rose from the driveway and street. I remember
walking through the lawn and the wet blades of grass sticking
to my bare feet. The feeling of calmness all around, the cool
crisp air, and the joyful chirping birds. Not only did these
storms revitalize the dry earth, they also seemed to clear
my head and enhance my senses.
There was one particular storm when
all the streets in the neighborhood were flooded, every drain
was covered by pools of water moving rapidly. I hopped on
my bike without any shoes and joyously peddled through the
swift warm currents!
In
the winter time, I remember waking up in the morning, slowly
making my way up the stairs -how cold the linoleum floor in
the kitchen was on my bare feet, and how satisfying it was
to sit above the heater vent, pulling my shirt over my knees
to capture all the hot air.
I
was about 6 when I had a pair of $20 walkie talkies which ran
on 9-volt batteries. They each had an on/off switch, a volume
control, and a button to send morse-code. It was a fascinating
idea to be able to communicate using them, however, I thought
of using them experimentally, rather than chit-chat toys.
I wanted to know exactly how far they
could go,
so, I handed one to my mom who was in the kitchen, and I headed
out the door. My exact location was reported after every few
steps, along with the question, "can you still hear me?"
I made my way up the street, and turned around when only static
could be heard. They only worked about 500ft. from the house.
I was a little disappointed, but knew JUST what to do to make
them work better!
Back in my basement room, floor covered
with wires, speakers, electrical components and tools, I found
a spool of un-insulated copper wire. Removing the plastic shields
on the radios exposed the spring-like antennas. I began wrapping
the copper wire around the antennas until they were about an
inch thick at the base, progressively thinner into an extended
single wire- foot long "whip" antenna. What strange
looking things I had created! I ran upstairs and found my mom,
handed here one and told her I wanted to try it again. All that
copper didn't seem to help much, there was a distance gain of
maybe
five feet or so.
At that point my mother had enough of
being part of my experiments, so I figured out a way to do them
myself.
The floor of my room was always covered
with parts from dismantled electrical appliances, most of which
I had collected from the neighborhood trashes and local business
dumpster's. Trash day was my favorite day of the week. I would
speed off on my bike, racing all around town before the trash
collectors could get the good stuff. Finding something as simple
as a broken tape player would give me an adrenaline rush, simply
because I knew that it had motors in it, and I knew that it
had speakers in it, and all kinds of other neat things.
I would use the motors to spin round-metal
gearing discs at a high rate of speed. By giving the motor a
frisk movement, the disc would release
from the motor shaft, and would race across the floor and along
the walls with amazing momentum. If it hit something, it would
just change directions and keep going!
I
was 7 or 8 when I got a crystal AM radio kit for Christmas.
It was very exciting for me. My father helped me assemble it,
and for the last step, I connected a wire to one of the pipes
in our basement. Without ANY batteries, I was able to hear radio
stations through an ear bud. It was quite amazing!
The year after that, I got another radio
kit, but it was a bit more complicated than the crystal radio.
It was a fully tunable, VHF aircraft receiver. I could just
lay on the bed in my room, with this thing I had put together
and a wire antenna hanging out the window, and be able to hear
what pilots thousands of feet in the air were saying! I picked
up on the distinct radio language they used, and knew exactly
what their messages meant. I found all the active frequencies
and marked them around the tuning dial.
At some point I discovered Citizens Band and
played around with many portable and mobile radios before finding
a 40 channel base station transceiver at a thrift store. It
was in great condition. I saved up $100 and bought a vertical
rooftop antenna from Radioshack to complete the setup.
In
my basement room, I communicated locally and met many people
over the airwaves. At night, the channels were clear and I could
hear, and talk with stations 20-30 miles away. During the day,
every channel was bombarded with signals. Without much format
or strict rules to govern the CB frequencies, people used high
powered transmitters and echo microphones as a way to compete
with each other, and make long distance contacts. The result
was a lot of unpleasant whines and whistles!
One
afternoon, I found a channel that was somewhat clear, and
ended up contacting a man who was driving home from work.
After chatting for a few minutes, to my amazement, he told
me that he was in North Carolina, nearly 2,000 miles away!
We were both transmitting at the legal power of only 5 watts,
and were still able to have a solid conversation. Each of
us were ecstatic to have unintentionally made our very first
"skip" contacts. We expressed this joy until the
band conditions changed and his signal faded away.
At
the age of 16 I studied for and passed the FCC test and became
a licensed Technician Class Amateur Radio operator. I was
issued the callsign KB1GIZ. By accessing repeaters (radio
towers located at high elevations that retransmit signals
at an increased power level) on specific frequencies, I used
basic handheld radios to communicate all around the state
with crystal clarity.
Read more about my adventures with electricity.
Published "Shocking
Discoveries"
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