There we found a small statute of a little kid with his thumb stuck to a wall and he was turned away with the gesture that he was shouting. We knew exactly what the statute was all about. I was personnally a bit surprised to find that the "dyke" he was sticking his thumb in was a water-dyke...not a lesbian after all! Anyway, Bruce did manage to take my picture on a park-bench and I took his picture next to the statue.

In the little tourist-cafe, we ate "tostis" (toasted sandwiches) along with tomato soup with large cups of hot chocolate and Roy had chicken-soup (he's still not feeling up to par). The owner was really friendly, helping Roy with his Dutch and talking about their tourist season. A few local men came in and ordered coffee and listened to us casually without looking at us directly. We thanked the owners graciously and we left wandering around the town working our way back to the train station. Then, it was off to the "grande-finale"....A town farther inland called "Franeker".

The story goes, that this man named "Eisinger" (b. 1742?) took some six years of schooling and at the ripe old age of sixteen, began to work out in his head a complete planetarium. In his books, he worked the mathematics to include gravitational pulls, elliptical orbits, phases of the moon, sun and earth, and put them all on paper. In 1774, in his spare time, he began working on his "mental project".

Using a pendulum for the energy source, he cut huge plates out of the ceiling in his living room. Large circles (elliptical in shape) each bigger than the other until he had each of the known planets of our solar system. From inside of those grooves, he hung wires and dangled a ball representing each of the planets. (Remember now, Pluto, Neptune and Uranus were unknown planets in his day.) With the sun in the middle, and being the largest, he had the rest of the solar system represented each revolving around the sun hanging from a wire following along their respective grooves. The outermost groove, he had a gold piece of metal that looked a bit like an airplane propeller that showed today's date.

Now, before I continue too much farther, let me explain that on this little mini-tour, we saw a short twenty-minute video that explained who he was and what he was all about. Then, we were hustled up into his attic and there we could see behind plexi-glass, the clock-workings of his pendulum. Egads! It was a crawl space of less than four feet - with hundreds of axles, wheels, cogs, and other things that whirred and whizzed around. In the video, we were told that not only was the pendulum still "right on target", but that Eisinger also left detailed instructions on repairs, his mathematical work and exact measurements of the wheels, spindles and weights to ensure that the pendulum would live long past his death.

Later, we were escorted into his living room, where the apprentice was talking to the previous group in his native Dutch. Upon leaving, he turned his attention to us; Three silly-Americans, one from North Carolina and two from Minnesota.

The ceiling was all painted in blue, with hundreds of dials and scopes all over. I thought I was in the middle of a virtual Jules Verne novel, let me tell you! The gold-metal propeller was right on target, "Januarius 12, 2000". The apprentice stated that every twenty-five years, a new plate had to be painted showing the digital year for the next set, and changing that plate required an exact fifteen second adjustment to the pendulum. (Since it takes about fifteen seconds to change the plate, it's only logical that one would have to make the adjustment accordingly!) He also stated that on New Years Eve, 1997, he stayed and watched the year change - the plate began its adjustment around 6:00PM and finished the final setting exactly at midnight.

One dial showed the phase of the moon. Another dial showed the astrological sign we are currently under. Yet another showed the time for the next lunar and solar eclipse. Along one wall, a small wood burning stove with an ancient teakettle. Along the opposing wall, a "portico" or bed that was store in the wall where Mr. and Mrs. Eisinger slept. (Their children slept in drawers, literally, underneath their bed.) A closet on one side, he had the weights for the pendulum which rested between the two-by-fours and slid up and down, and on the other side of their bed was another closet which was locked because it contained the "master" weights. (Highly secure area, believe you me!)

The apprentice explained that during his calculations, he discovered that indeed there had to be two more planets that were not accounted for, and he guessed that there very well could be yet another planet. He began the work instantly to find a ceiling large enough so he could include the remaining two planets in his planetarium but gave up and continued with his original project. His math, of course, proved correct, for two more planets were discovered and returning to his math books, it was discovered that he was right on target. (The third planet, the one he wasn't sure about, was indeed found, and there is still debate one whether Pluto is indeed a planet that should be considered in our Solar System!)

He was very pleased when Bruce and I each bought a small booklet for four guilders (approx. $2.00) four our souvenir collection. We borded the train back to Amsterdam with tired looks on our faces, happy to be out of the cold. It was three hours for the return trip, which Roy took us to one of his favorite restaurants. Needless to say, this historical genius was the topic of conversation for our dinner.

Today??! Well, as I sit and type and Bruce patiently waits to proof-read my work here, we are to set out to the Rijksmuseum.

Happy Trails! ...and "That's Alls I Knows..."

Love, Mark

Since Bruce proofed this particular day's adventure, he said; "Well gee, you coulda told them that I said 'Hi' or something!!" So, to satisify. "Bruce sends his love and hellos!"