Gear Acquisition Syndrome (G.A.S.) begins, early mornings and Pixels.

         As late as April of '21, I was purchasing equipment for my musical endeavors. I had just joined a group which rehearsed in the basement of The Ronstadt House (yes, LINDA Ronstadt!) and I needed a few plugs and stands, etc. It was old hat, I'd been here many times and I was struck by the aging demographic our music was targeting. Also, I noted with some trepidation the changes made to songs to accommodate our aging vocal ranges. It was fun enough, but some of the zest was gone. I was no longer a rock-n-roll stud and saw other musicians my age (or older) striking that pose as ridiculous. 

        A quick review of my orders on Amazon that year shows a well defined line between my pre and post telescope life. In the first several weeks after getting my scope I ordered: 

  1. A moon filter and a 2x Barlow lens
  2. A red LED flashlight for night vision
  3. The smartphone adapter mentioned earlier
  4. A laser collimator for keeping the mirrors straight
  5. A 7-21mm zoom eyepiece
  6. A second smartphone adapter to replace the first (it sucked)
  7. A T-adapter for our Nikon. Unfortunately it's too heavy for my scope.
  8. Wireless remote for the camera
  9. A smartphone mount for our tripod (I'll explain later)
  10. A clock drive for the scope in an attempt to emulate sidereal time
  11. A headband for the above flashlight

        Amazon loved me that summer. The adapter I replaced still again with something that's professional grade. Centering the phone's camera on the eyepiece is a challenge, and the phone took more than a few falls until the new adapter (which I still use). Except for the Nikon accessories, everything else is still in regular use to this day. I would subsequently acquire additional items in dribs and drabs, but this was the big bang. 

        One thing I wasn't prepared for when taking this up was..."Oh, yeah. It needs to be dark out, doesn't it?" My birthday falls in June, so I was dealing with short summer nights when I started with this. On the plus side, Arizona does not observe Daylight Saving Time. So I would not have to stay up too late. Another back-handed blessing was my insomnia during the early morning. It was not unusual to find me in my PJs around 3:00am pointing my scope around the sky. Actually, those early morning hours are best since the air is at its clearest. 

        This explains the "Sleepy Astronomer" heading for this blog. As much as I got a charge out of going out and discovering the universe, there were plenty of mornings I was thankful for cloud cover or a bright moon. I could then reason my way back inside to watch a rerun of "Justified" and then maybe grab a few more Z's before my day started. 

        Another happy accident was I replaced my Samsung with a Google Pixel phone that summer. The Pixel has a lot of features which I often crow about to Kathy's chagrin. One item I did not know about was its built-in astrophotography mode in the camera, called Night Sight. It takes dark environment photos two ways: one is a quick 5-second exposure while the second holds the shutter open for 4 minutes. My first discovery of that came during one of my early morning sojourns. This is where the tripod mount came in very handy: 

Looking north



Looking southwest. The bright object is Jupiter



Looking west. The illumination from inside the house is a small night light

*****

The video feature also is useful for capturing planets, like in my first shot of Saturn and its moons:
 

        I often wish I could have been a fly on the wall when those early astronomers saw Saturn's rings for the first time. Bets were probably made, a lot of wine drunk. A fine time. 

        At this point, I was definitely deep into my honeymoon period for astronomy. I began crawling all over the internet looking for information on what to look for, how to look for it, how to take a decent picture of it, and so on. In the coming weeks and months, I would get a new day job, I would resign from the band I was in, and of course upgrade whatever gear I felt needed it. 

        I also was thanking my lucky stars that we live where we do. In October of that year, we went back to visit family in Illinois. While we were there I was inspecting the night sky with my "astronomer's eyes". Between the weather and the light pollution, I could see none but the brightest stars. And the only grouping I could see was the dipper. If we lived there, I could maybe get a night out per month - and I would need to go to a dark sky area. I don't know how those astronomers in places like England don't give up and just start knitting. 

        Next, I would dive deep into the software packages and other resources the internet offered. And Deep Sky Objects begin to take their hold. 




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