Marriage years to divorice: a happy, eagerly willing slave to woman

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Marriage years to divorice: a happy, eagerly willing slave to woman; bridge creation; but then I was dumped utterly
by James Edward David Cline

This page still under construction ...

Copyright © 1995 James Edward David Cline


Soon I met her when she visited there: Ch. had blue eyes and red hair, an echo of the splendid sunsets red clouds in the blue sky each night there in the desert. Soon I was making weekend trips to her home, her parents' plush Malibu home where the ocean waves sang a melody all night. But the talented, long-legged girl of 19 already was an airplane pilot and a high society symbol, when we got married. She could do no wrong, and I was her eagerly willing slave, doing anything just to be with her each night at days' end; I became an outstanding student at the Academy in electronics. The ensuing work, maintaining and certifying the navigational aids for military and commerical aircraft, taxed my abilities far beyond their natural inclinations, however. Yet even as inexperienced as I was in the ways of people, I wondered why she never included me in the word "we" when she spoke. She was my exact opposite, and thus of utmost fascination, and unknowability by me. She was extraverted, physically oriented, analytical and judgemental: my inner shadow qualities thus easily projected out onto her. As no doubt her hidden shadow qualities projected out of her to paint that viewpoint onto her image of me.

Our relative biorhythms (unknown to me at the time) were 91% physically compatible, 13% emotionally compatible, and 11% intellectually compatible. As such, we did well as a physical team directed by her physical self. But feelings, plans, they were inexpressible to each other with accuracy of understanding. She had many other friends to talk with, to share feelings with, being very gregarious. But I had no one but her, and I utterly craved her every night, which was my only reward for the days' work.


The alarm went off, the vast array of rows of colored lights blinked, and then the system came online again it said, the second monitor controlling. What had happened? The phone com demanded to know why the failure, calling from the control center 98 miles away on a dedicated phone line. I did not know, there was no oscilloscope in the monitor set of racks, just a big hole in the rack where it should have been, I could not measure much of anything directly without it. This was my first day on the job as sole technician for this facility out in the desert, a key facility ... and it was teetering on the edge of shutdown. I had gotten here to save them money, replacing two techs both senior by 3 grades to me; but I had made high marks in freshly completed schooling at the Academy; and fellow techs at the sector office were hazing me so I took this position, one of two experimental 1-man sector positions in the Western Region. Now the big radar transponder was having problems, according to the monitors. Pulse width was wrong, it said; normally easily measured and adjusted with the oscilloscope... which unfortunately was not there, why? ... they had said it was out for repairs, for weeks. Pressure was on: there was no standby transponder to take over here yet, just the one. Searching for some other means to measure actual pulse width, only the monitor pulse width sections could do it, and that was where the complaint had come from. Thinking back, when I had arrived in the morning, I had noted that the monitor rack's door was open in the back, causing improper temperatures inside, no doubt left open by last technicians here previously. In the academy, I had been taught to keep the doors shut, so I had shut this door. That had been hours ago. However, I suspected that the pulse width settings had been adjusted with the door open (against the rules), so I re-opened the door, as I had found it. Fifteen minutes later, the alarm condition went away, and all indicated normal. Except for the open door to the monitor rack. With a scope, I could reset the width settings with the door closed, but the techs who left this door open had also taken the scope. But for now, all was calm.

[--- I was responsible for equipment that was the power politics gamepieces of others; I had been set up to fail, but I intended to do the best job I could, regardless.]


Married years, working in private industries:

Employed by E H P A, Santa Monica, California. We lived in Mar Vista, CA for a year then bought a place in Topanga, CA, moving there for the remainder of the marriage.

EHPA was a research organization, doing research in electro-optics under contracts. Some of the work was highly classified, so in October 1966 I was granted a Top Secret security clearance. Years later, after the company had been bought by a rival, EG&G, and began to be dismantled, I was among the first 25% laid off. At the de-briefing, the new security chief, a muscular Asian with a black belt and karate outfit, advised me that if I even told anyone the name of the main project done there, I would be killed. That was about 28 years ago, so all long ago would probably have become declassified. But I still have not told the code name of the electro-optical project, nevertheless.

[--- A death threat can be impressive.]

Snapshots: (unclassified, of course)

They were impressed that I had answered their ad for work, applying in heavy rainfall: they needed an outdoors man who had a solid hands-on technical background. I got the job.

[--- My appearant determination to work, and technical competancy, got me the best job of my career.]

The third floor of the Union Bank Building on Wilshire in Santa Monica was reached by elevator. One day I got on the elevator, glancing I noted a bunch of people smiling, clustered in the back of the elevator car. 3 floors up, I got off the elevator, something familiar about those beaming people. It was Lawrence Welk and his people, who rented the top floor of the building, I realized later.

[--- I was already a "space cadet", the world of experiences whizzing past me far too fast to adequately assess them and respond to the opportunities.]


Tim S. and I took the instrumentation truck out to the beach on Pacific Coast Highway, and set up the telescope with its optical sensor in it, and recorded the flickering light coming from the ocean waves, watching the waveforms of those signals on an oscilloscope. Later I recalled that weeks before, my wife had a missionary friend visiting at our place, who asked what I would like to do ideally at work, and I had quipped "I would like to watch waveforms on the beach."

[--- A preacher had amazing power to influence my life.]


I convinced the president of the company, Dr Harold S., to let me pursue my idea for making a reading machine for the blind, as a precurser to a reading machine for everyone. My idea was to use a vertical string of optical sensors to be scanned by a machine down a printed line on a page, each sensor turning a tone generator on and off. I was given just 6 weeks to complete the task to the point of getting another sponsor for my work. Dr Wendel H was assigned to be my advisor, who outlined the mechanical scanner needed, and suggested a Hastings Triplet lens for the optics. Julie was the literature researcher, quickly found that there was something called an Optophone, already existing which did exactly as my idea, a string of optical sensors keying on tone generators. Dismayed at first, I then got interested in the flood of material produced by her literature search, and also using the new RTL integrated circuits per a book by Don Lancaster, "RTL Cookbook". It ocurred to me that a single slit could be integrated to frequency modulate a single tone generator, to produce a unique acoustic signal for each printed charcacter. Playing with the integrated circuit flip flops and buffers, I interlocked them and the result produced a step tone series very musically pleasing. A flood of ideas for primitive imitators of neural optical signal processors occured to me, and I wrote a paper on follow up research. I demonstrated my working machine to Dr Eugene M., head of the VA Prosthetics Division, but he alraeady had optophones in production at $2,500 apiece, ignoring my single unit cost of the electronics of my device of only $13. No sponsor, the project was boxed up and warehoused, gone.

[--- This was the high point of the best job of my career. I had a project approved for my idea, then found it was not new, but then went on to produce something even better and lower cost, all in the allotted time for the project.]


I was invited to go to lunch with Dr B. and some other co-workers at the nearby restaurant. Sitting at the booth, were told to watch our every word here, because they had found that a deliberately spoken secret here turned up in Moscow only 4 days later.

[--- I wondered how they knew what was happening in Moscow so intimatly, too]


A co-worker, much in similar position as myself, Bill B., suddenly was very friendly to me, asking what ideas I had and that we could team up and present our ideas together. I was flattered at his attention and sudden affability. My main idea was that somehow the sparkly red he-ne laser beams could be used to send a holographic picture to a distant person. Then Dr R.B, a VP who had been instrumental in hiring me, entered. Immediately Bill began to talk to him, said we were pooling ideas, but then Bill said that my idea was to use a laser to shine across a sheet of paper to read the indented lines there from somone writing on page above it ( that was Bill's idea, not mine), and he did not mention my holographic transmission idea at all to Dr RB. Dr RB gave me a strange look, and walked out, and never spoke friendly to me again, and soon made Bill B. his personal assistant in an optical lab.

[--- My gullibility and slowness of wit, lost me both my creative idea and my credibility easily to the machinations of a master of deceit.]

I was banished to the Stoner Street building, and put to work under an electrical engineer they hired, Noel K. No longer did I get to design the circuits I built.

[--- Baffled by people power politics, I could not defend my career against treacherous rivals. I did not understand why there were such things as "treacherous rivals", or even why they could exist. I had been raised too protected, became too naive.]


Bissett-Berman Corporation of Culver City, California, looked like a place where my ideas could be accepted. I was hired again as a Senior Engineering Technician, and was involved with building prototypes of circuits which would use their "E-Cell" devices in private industry, commercial applications. Initially I worked for Jim P., an engineer who was impressed by my ingenuity in using op-amps, calling one suggested design "elegant". Then I worked for Doug R., who taught me the design process of defining the end result first, then work the design backwards to its starting point; he also got me doing calculations of discrete transistor switching circuits. For Dan C., I built not only electronic circuits, but also complex plastic housings out of acrylic plastics. Then I worked for Bryan M., who utterly degraded my every effort to be creative, he considering himself the sole source of creative electronic design. I built several interesting devices of their design, such as devices which would record the time a car spent in applying brakes, making turns, running the engine, as a service indicator; a device for calculating the alcohol remaining in a person's blood at a party, using body weight and alcohol consumption metabolized analogously over time, and a locomotive engine maintenance monitor.

A side of Bissett-Berman that had happened before I got there, was involved with making proposals for big projects. They had built a working model of a lunar rover, which did not win the competition, but which had 6" H-beams used for its alignment that I later bought as scrap, used them on the bridge I was improving at my Topanga Canyon home.

My own creativity was still active: I proposed to them that they use the bacteria found in aircraft fuel tanks, to be multiplied and spread on oil spills in the ocean, when I heard they were proposing a floating machine to scoop up oil spills...they disdained my suggestion. Then I thought of a dream-sleep monitor, dug up all REM-sleep info from Science News at home, wrote it up as a device which would monitor three stages of sleepby EEGs monitored overnight, awakening person when enough was had; if not enough by awakening, then the person would know to not take on tasks that were dangerous that day, or needing special ability to cope...but they told me they already had that idea, even showed me later a paper they had written on the subject, similar to my proposal. Finally, since they had previously done the lunar rover proto construction, I asked if they were interested in a new space application, and I was told they did not even want to hear about it.

This space project (totally my own hobby project) was a new approach for me, started with the idea of a rope attached to Earth's equator, long enough to hold itself up by centrifugal force, so as to provide a support for electrical access to space. A book by Arthur C. Clarke "The Exploration of Space" gave me clues of how to calculate the strength of such a rope, and I found out that no material was nearly strong enough. (Years later I found that a Russian named Artsutanov had proposed that particular idea in 1956, long before me.) However, since manned moon landings were happening at the time, I thought that such a rope might be attached to the moon and hang toward earth, thus have its weight supported by gravitational attraction instead of centrifugal force. Again my hobby calculations showed that no material was strong enough. (Later, after I was laid off from Bissett-Berman Corp, I thought of the concept of a "constant stress crossection" cable, and calculations showed that space-rated fiberglass was easily strong enough for the task.)

[--- I was still attempting to stimulate others to work on my radical ideas, while actually doing their ordinary tasks in order to pay my bills.]


The echo of the wonderful game of lovemaking with woman would be with me as I went through each following day's work. Most any chore could be endured well, knowing that at the end of the day, the playing of this game of lovemaking with her would be my reward. Among the biological inventions that were uniquely human, was this 365-day-a-year interesting availability of the woman to the man, unlike the other mammals which are characterized by mating as being only active at breeding time, and was only the focus of power and reproductive control by mammal herd dominant males. Human females, women, invented their daily desireable availability to man, getting him to do things for her, and the men had a matching built-in craving for lovemaking every day: this brings the maximum number of males to help with the group survival activities, thus easily out-competing groups where only a few males are received by the females of the group, the other males being driven away to die mateless. In this married era of my life, I knew intimately well the wonderful invention of daily happy lovemaking with woman, of how it could bond even the most diverse of people into close cooperative mutual accomplishments ... although it was mostly her desires that were accomplished.

[--- Spirituality might be defined as the activity of universal patterns being played out into physical manifestation, and the universal pattern of human mating is a most joyful pattern to manifest.]


I looked at the receding figure of someone who looked familiar, as he walked across the Army Corps of Engineers bridge to the parking lot in the arroyo. Too late I realised that's who, Joe W., the electronics genius who was my college roomate in my freshaman year... who unwittingly directed my path from pure physics into electonics long ago. The first weeks here at JPL were in temporary quarters near the east end of JPL. I was lucky to have gotten this job even as a temporary "job-shopper", having been laid off and out of work for four months up until now, and my wife was getting ready to leave me.

[-- JPL, the fabled JPL, and I was here! Was this all real? ]


One of my hopes given a big boost was that now that I worked in a space facility, people would find my "Mooncable Project" concept interesting, finally giving me the recognition I deserved for technical creativity, and making enough money to keep my wife from leaving me. However, none of my cautious letters sent to potentially interested people had responded to me prior to my employment here at JPL as a job-shopper. I gave its write-up to several co-workers, including Dave Y. and Don M., but little response was shown. The director's office returned it to me saying they were only interested in ways to bring power from space, and my mooncable would not reach earth surface. Finally I gave a copy to the patent counsel of NASA there at JPL, Mr Mott, a kindly gentleman who agreed to somehow make a legally established time date regarding my work.

Just before my birthday, a letter arrived at our Topanga Canyon home from the chairman of the NASA Inventions and Contributions Board, dated June 23, 1972. Correspondence from Francis Kemmett , Director of the Staff, NASA Inventions and Contributions Board, deferring consideration of "The Mooncable: A Profitable Space Transportation System". It acknowledged receipt of my concept through the JPL NASA Patent Counsel Office, and of an earlier letter I had written on the subject to Dr George Lowe; it cautioned me that since I had proposed it as a profit-making concept utilizing space resources, that if NASA were to sponsor it that it would freely become public property. It included a brochure describing how to formalize and prepare a proposal to NASA. I read it excitedly, then handed it to my wife Ch. standing there. She read it, then tossed it aside, saying "Just as I thought, no money." A few days later, July 3, 1972, was the last time she and I made love together, and just as she had declared months before, she left me.

As the months and years went by after that, mateless despair ruled my life and my thoughts, and only rarely did I make half-hearted effort to continue on my Mooncable Project. It was easy for unseen rivals to suppress the concept.

My Mooncable Project concept, as it had evolved to when I attempted to get JPL's interest in supporting it, was more completely called The Mooncable: A Profitable Space Transportation System" by J. E. D. Cline, March 25, 1972. Basically it was to be a tether anchorced to a non-spinning moon of a planet, being held in place by having a greater part of its weight in the space dominated by the gravitational attraction of the parent planet. I saw two sites of current interest: Earth's moon and Mars' moon Phobos. The tether would be the coupling between the space dominated by the gravitational attraction of the moon, and the space dominated by the gravitational attraction of the associated planet. Superconducting magnetic levitation tracks along the length of the tether would double as electrical conductors coupling the energy of payload mass headed down the planetward side, over to lift more payload mass up from the moon's surface. Once started, like a liquid siphon on earth, it would supply its own energy for continuing the flow of payload mass in one direction, thus being an extremely efficient transportation system. The payload would be cast into foamed solids at a processing site at the gravitational balance point called L1, Lagrange libration point #1. These castings would be in the shape of re-entry gliders, average density less than that of water, so they would float after landing on a lake or ocean site. Foamed nickle-iron steel, which cannot be made in earth's gravitational surface field, would be cuttable and nailable much like fireproof wood, and could be use to make fireproof houses, bridges, and aircraft structures; its energy absorbing properties could be used to be crash barriers alongside of freeways, and for car bodies themselves. The tether, or cable, as I called it then, was made of lunar fiberglass, of tapered crossection such that the stress anywhere in its section was constant. Space-rated vacuum-made fiberglass had been found to have a tensile strength of 500,000 pounds per square inch, and the test calculation I had done while unemployed prior to work at JPL used a safety factor of 2 on the tensile load. The seed cable would be soft landed on the lunar surface, along with a robotic glass processing plant and initial assembly tractors and a nuclear-electric power plant, using one of the remaining Apollo launch vehicles, which already had been announced as not to be used to soft land humans back on the lunar surface. The project would revive the then-slowing space industry, and put the Apollo science to solid use with permanent human presence on the Moon.

But what really happened is that I did not receive interest from anyone in starting such a project, my utterly-craved mate abandoned me, and a series of strange problems focused on me, putting me in a bare survival state-of-mind, almost stopping my continuance of the Mooncable Project thereafter.

[--- My brave new space transporation resources concept is unwittingly scuttled by my disinterested departing wife.]