As my regular readers know, I spent much of the second half of 2009 working on my new adventure TV series Meteorite Men for Science Channel. Once our initial shooting schedule had been completed, we were sent back out—several times—for additional filming. I was not entirely clear about how much time and effort would be required to film six one-hour episodes in the field, but I certainly am now.

So, after many thousands of miles, a multitude of flights, a remarkable variety of hotels and motels including one diabolical casino in Nevada, a few boat trips, many weird adventures, eleven flat tires, and three stuck vehicles, we actually seem to have completed all the filming and I am back home just in time to start getting ready for the 2010 Tucson gem and mineral shows.

Before that happens, and before I jaunt off to California to do some PR for the new Science Channel series, I am most honored to be hosting the Flandrau Science Center‘s Science Cafe this very evening, at the charming Cushing Street Bar & Restaurant. Science Cafe is a monthly event, organized by the Flandrau, in which a scientist gives a short talk about her/his specialty, in friendly and informal surroundings, followed by a question-and-answer session.

Readers of this column will already know that I am a great fan of the Flandrau, so it is a privilege indeed to be part of their ongoing series. Admission is free, food and drinks are available for purchase, and the evening begins at 6 pm. I have been informed that “The Science Cafe fills up fast,” so an early arrival is recommended.

I will be talking about meteorites, meteorite hunting, the making of our TV series Meteorite Men, and why the study of rocks from outer space may hold clues to the formation of our Solar System and the origin of life on Earth.

I hope to see you there. Watch the video teaser here.

It makes me very happy when a person I work for stands up and sets a fine example. I do mean “work for” in a broad sense, since I have owned my own business since 1989, but you will get my point in a minute.

On July 16, Deborah Adler Myers the president of Science Channel, testified before the House Science and Technology Committee, chaired by Arizona’s own Gabrielle Giffords. Congresswoman Giffords is someone else I admire, particularly because of her positive stance on solar energy initiatives here in our home state.

Deborah began with a brief history of Discovery (Science Channel’s parent company), went on to show support for President Obama’s challenge to “restore science to its rightful place” in our nation, and later presented a detailed overview of Science Channel’s mission: “To be the creative magnet for all people—adults and kids who share a passion for innovation and the sciences.”

Towards the end of her address, Deborah included a few sentences that really startled me: “Our television shows cover a wide range of space and exploration topics—from space travel to string theory and wormholes to black holes. We start from the Big Bang beginning and go right to the edge of what we know is possible in the future. We’ve brought back classics like COSMOS and created our own original series like When We Left Earth and Meteorite Men.”

Meteorite Men is the show I co-host with my expedition partner, professional meteorite hunter Steve Arnold. Science Channel is our network. So, in a general sense it’s fair to say that I work for Deborah Myers. And I am quite sure that was the first time anything I have done received a specific mention on Capitol Hill. As one of our producers, TV veteran Bob Melisso said, humorously: “It’s always good to be mentioned in congressional hearings when you’re not being indicted.”

I had the pleasure of speaking with Deborah first thing this morning and, of course, I congratulated her on her testimony. We talked about our show for a while, and about our common interest in getting kids excited about science. She told me that when someone is really successful in our kind of work it is because they are sharing their journey and taking viewers along on “an authentic quest.”

It was all very inspiring, so we are going to do everything we can to keep it real. Stay tuned.

Photograph by Ruth Rivin © Aerolite Meteorites. All rights resrved.

I do not have any children of my own, and the chances of me generating any are about the same as the human race developing a faster-than-light starship drive in my lifetime. That fact that I chose not to procreate doesn’t mean I don’t care about the younger generation.

When I was about six years old, a jolly and friendly geologist, built like a bull and named Wally Robbins, took me under his wing during one of our family vacations to the US. He gave me my first trilobite fossil (I went on to find some spectacular specimens in later life, but I still have that first little Elrathia kingii and still treasure it) and some lovely rocks and minerals. I watched him walk the beaches and rivers of New England at low tide, collecting rocks. His wife joked that the only exercise he ever got was when he bent down to pick up something of geological interest.

Were it not for Wally, I may never have followed my path into the world of scientific adventure and exploration. I remember how inspiring he was to me and—in my own small way—I try to pass it along.

Yesterday, I had the very great honor of participating in the Lunar and Planetary Lab‘s Apollo 11 40th Anniversary celebration. My staff and I set up a display of rare and unusual meteorites, as did several of our professional colleagues. I had the unexpected pleasure of meeting astronomer Thomas Bopp, co-discoverer of Comet Hale-Bopp “the most widely observed comet of the twentieth century.” I also got to spend time with John Terry White, an aerospace expert and president of White Eagle Aerospace, and a most charming and fascinating man. Scott Schneewels astounded me with his collection of genuine Apollo mission historic artifacts, including a control panel from an actual Lunar Module, hand-woven memory from one of the command modules, and tools designed to collect and transport moon rocks.

I was afraid that all of this “science stuff” might be a little dry for the scores of kids who were in attendance, and who were born more than thirty years after the Eagle touched down at Tranquility Base. There was no chance of that. We gave away small meteorites with identification cards, all day long, to wide-eyed children who were enthralled to hold something from outer space. And we distributed free DVDs, magazines, and postcards about meteorites and answered a million questions: “How does the Earth know there isn’t life on other planets?” (Well, that was a tough one)

If one of those kids decides to devote his or her life to aerospace, or meteoritics, or some other important scientific discipline, then we really are leaving something worthwhile behind. With budget cuts in research and education resulting in tragedies like the wonderful Flandrau Planetarium remaining closed for five days out of every seven, those of us who care about the future must take up the slack in other ways.

Photographs by Leigh Anne DelRay, Callisto Images © Leigh Anne DelRay, all rights reserved.