Skip to main content

In Solar Time

In this episode - In Solar Time . . .

We are thrilled to present a unique surprise for this week's podcast. We have composed a special tribute to Cenergy's V-Team in the form of original lyrics to the iconic Beatles song "When I'm 64". 


One of Cenergy’s engineering team members is Vietnam’s Doan Vo (Dr. Vo). Dr. Vo - as we call him - is the team lead for Cenergy’s Electrical Engineering Operations. We want to thank the V-Team for their unwavering commitment and assistance to the US team. Your diligent efforts are truly appreciated.


In Solar Time


When I get older, losing my mind

many years from now.


Will you still be estimating power lines?

Calculating modules in Solar time.


If I'd been shocked at quarter to four

would you close the door (circuit)?

 

Will you still teach me? Will you still reach me?

When I'm eighty-four.


You'll be older too.

And if you say the word

I could just phone you.


I could be handy, changing the fuse.

When your power’s gone.

Calculating systems by the fireside.

Monday mornings, go for a ride.


Prepping the newbies, plantings some seeds

Who could ask for more?

 

Will you still teach me? Will you still reach me?

When I'm eighty-four.


You'll be older too.

And if you say the word

I could just phone you.


Send me an e-mail, or drop me a line!

Stating system size (kW-DC).


Indicate precisely what you mean to say!

Our nervous clients are calling today.


Give me your answer; draft me a layout.

Digital for evermore.


Will you still teach me? Will you still reach me?

When I'm eighty-four. Ooh!


I'm Patrick Ball; thanks for listening. I'll see you in the next episode.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Most Popular of All Time

Sunflowers, French Steel, and the Yellow Jersey

Watching Le Tour de France this year, I found myself transported back to August 1983 as the Peloton in Stage 10, Bastille Day, flowed through the French countryside like a brightly colored ribbon. I was in my twenties, visiting family in the Charente-Maritime region of France, completely obsessed with bicycle racing—and convinced I was much stronger than I was. My connection to cycling—and to France—runs deep. I was born in France, and my very first real road bike, at age fifteen, was a Mercier . To me, it wasn’t just a bicycle; it was a work of art made from beautiful French steel. I rode that bike for miles, through high school, into college, and until the day someone decided they needed it more than I did. I hope they at least appreciated the craftsmanship. Its untimely disappearance led me to a Schwinn Voyageur, and later, when I started racing around Illinois, to a Raleigh Competition . But during that summer of ’83, while staying with my Uncle Jean Paul in Lagord, just north of L...
Post a Comment
Read more

Rediscovering the Magic of Summer . . .

Summer mornings, especially on a holiday weekend, have a special magic. The air is cool, the world quiet, and the day full of possibilities. This July 4th weekend, Lori and I decided to capture a bit of that magic by beating the holiday traffic with an early morning bicycle ride. We went through our usual pre-flight checklist: Stretched out the morning stiffness. Filled the water bottles. Strapped on the helmets. Checked the tires. Three tires passed inspection. The fourth had apparently declared independence. The rear tire on my e-bike was flatter than a Kansas highway. “Well, it looks like we’re not riding today,” Lori said, with the calm acceptance of someone who had already mentally promoted coffee to the day’s main event. “Why not?” I replied. “I’ll ride my old bike.” She gave me that look —the one that safely translates as, "Are you sure about this? " “Absolutely,” I said. “Why not?” I dragged the bike stand out and surveyed my options. One glance at the aggressive gear...
Post a Comment
Read more

What an E-Bike Can't Do

In this episode, a return to the struggle. There comes a point in life when many people decide they've earned a machine to do the hard work for them. Some celebrate retirement with a bright red Corvette—the old ads called it "The American Dream Machine." Others opt for a Harley-Davidson, because apparently retirement isn't official until you've purchased enough chrome to be visible from space. Me? I bought a bicycle. Not an e-bike. Not one with enough battery power to serve as its own charging station. Just a bicycle. People have asked me why. Bicycles have always kept me young. The exercise is good for the body, and the quiet is good for the mind. Unlike a sports car, nobody expects you to explain why a retired guy suddenly needs to go from zero to sixty in four seconds. Before the e-bike crowd starts sharpening their keyboards, let me confess something: there were several moments on today's ride when I would've gladly accepted a small electric motor—mayb...
Post a Comment
Read more

Parabolic Arcs, and Pulled Putts

In this episode, the Retirement Mulligan Welcome to the first official morning of the rest of my life. With no alarms and no meetings, chasing a little white ball around The Lakehouse—a par-58 canvas—felt like the perfect way to christen retirement. Golf is a game of profound integrity, so I must disclose that my playing partner, Steve, and I took a couple of mulligans off the tee today. When you overswing like you're launching into low-Earth orbit, the most mature choice is sometimes a do-over. In retirement, these aren't mulligans. They are Executive Retirement Relief Strokes —a benefit package we’ve earned. When the swing connected exactly as intended, it was pure geometry in motion. Watching a crisply struck iron trace a towering parabolic arc against the San Marcos sky is the everyday magic we try to capture here at On the Fly . We witnessed it eleven times today, to be exact. Hitting eleven greens in regulation meant I repaired so many of my own pitch marks that I wonder...
Post a Comment
Read more