The Blaisdell Blog

 This will always be my favorite column to honor all of those who served, especially those who died in that service.  Some died on the field.  Some died from the scars of their service.  All gave more than they should have in a perfect world.          There is a photograph on the wall of my sister’s home that is both precious and haunting to me.   It is a restored, blown up and framed photo of my father on his way to the South Pacific during World War II.   It was taken by an Army photographer from a small tender craft as my Dad’s ship, the S.S. Monterey, left harbor.   In a happy accident, the picture was taken with a close up of Pfc. Frank G. Yatckoske front and center.   He is in the midst of a host of soldiers leaning over the rail, all smiling and mugging for the camera.   My father is leaning out from the rest, his arms braced on the rail of the ship, his smile—a straight, wide grin filled with mischief—is set in a young, lean, handsome face.   Every man on that ship seems fill

  Weld County, Colorado, where I went to college, is known for sugar beets, winter wheat and cattle.   The cattle were raised on huge feed lots. As the cattle fattened, they were moved to pens that got closer and closer to the big, white slaughterhouse.   It is the classic example of that admonition, “Don’t go toward the light.”   The cattle did not know any better.               If you are going to raise beef cattle, you must have bulls impregnating cows.   Farmers found out decades ago that this impregnation could be done faster by a man with a syringe than with an actual bull.   But you still need the semen.   Back when I was in school you had farms of champion bulls that were tapped four to eight times weekly for their sperm.   It sounds like a tricky business, getting a huge, mean-tempered bull excited and then offering him a plastic cup.               While today they use an electronic stimulant, back when I was in college, they had an easy way to get the bulls aroused.   T

  Who would have thought that the secret to life on earth would manifest itself with the proverbial bolt of lightning?   Well, God moves in mysterious ways.   But I am getting ahead of myself.   Phosphorus is abundant in the lithosphere.   Thank goodness.   It is useful for any number of things from fertilizer to fireworks, and it is necessary for ALL forms of life on this planet.   Phosphorus (in the form of phosphate, which means it is combined with oxygen) is an essential part of both RNA and DNA.   No phosphate; no life, period.   That means that phosphates are older than the life on this planet.   If you are thinking “dinosaurs” think back farther.   If you are thinking “fish” keep going.   The oldest fossil evidence of any lifeform on earth is around 3.5 billion years old and is microbial.   Bacteria.   This first ever life appeared rather soon (in geological terms, of course) after the formation of the earth, which is at least 4.5 billion years old.   Since phosphate is a