In July 1971 I had finished up my freshman year in high school. And I was a poor kid who used the Brooklyn Public Library as my main source of books. So each month I would trek to my local branch and take out the latest (or the closest to latest) issue of Analog Science Fiction magazine. In that month’s edition, there was an illustration on the back page of what was a photograph of what was purported to be a futuristic city that was being eroded by unimaginable eons of time as it lay dead under a dying red star at the end of the universe.
Actually, it was a scanning electron microscope photo of lead-tin telluride crystals.
But it sort of reminds me of the bismuth crystals that I used for today’s photo of the day.
I wonder if the anonymous author of that blurb was John Campbell. But I can understand his imaginative description. It is apt.
Funny how these things stick with you. Wow, that’s almost 53 years ago.
Yeah. I can remember which WHAM-O toys we had in the early 60s, I can remember shoop-shoop-hula-hoops, I can remember the Peppermint Twist, I can remember seeing Clarence the cross-eyed lion at a mall opening in Los Angeles, but I cannot remember where I laid my glasses fifteen minutes ago.
I’m right with you brother, on the fifteen minutes ago. Well, they’ve got to give us some leeway after all these years. We’re not made of steel.