Steve Heminover, Mad Scientist

Last spring I got a chance to interview a really interesting guy named Steve Heminover who happens to do the light shows for all the sports events at the United Center. The fruits of that adventure are below. Enjoy!

Steve Heminover, Mad Scientist

The United Center is deserted. The building hums and the smell of stale beer lingers in the air. It’s eerie, cavernous. Yesterday, 22,000 spectators watched the Chicago Blackhawks defeat the Vancouver Canucks in Game 2 of the Western Conference Semifinal series. But tonight, we have the place to ourselves.

Steve Heminover flips on a light switch in the control box and motions me to a chair overlooking the ice. He turns on a computer that looks like it belongs in a NASA cockpit and drums his fingers on the table. Windows start-up chimes and after a quick test to make sure his half-a-million-dollar equipment is working properly, he starts the show. Four green aerial lasers shoot upward from the corners of the arena. A laser animation of Benny the Bulls mascot is projected onto the floor.

“It’s more impressive with the music,” he says apologetically. Indeed, Bulls fans might overlook the lasers with everything else going on during the opening – scoreboard videos, blasting music, dancing Luvabulls. The United Center is the only arena in the country with a permanent laser installation, and Heminover has been running the shows at Blackhawks and Bulls games for more than fourteen years.

“Have you ever played with an Etch A Sketch?” Heminover asks. “It’s like that but the computer does it so fast. It turns the beam on and off, changes the color, and it has to move it around and all these things have to coordinate at once to make it work.” The end result is a laser animation that represents decades of innovation.

Pre-game laser show during a packed Bulls game at the United Center. Photo courtesy of Steve Heminover.

Fifty-six-year-old Heminover has been working with lasers for so long that he’s helped build the foundation for the entire industry. “When I started in the laser business, nobody had any tools to do what I wanted to do,” he says. “So I had to invent them. I literally wrote, from scratch, my own graphics language for doing lasers.” That language is the ancestor to modern stereoscopy and 3-D technology. If you saw Avatar in 3-D, you can thank Heminover for helping to lay the groundwork.

“I used to wonder when I was growing up why I could do all these things,” Heminover says. “And I realized that what comes easy to me doesn’t come easy to other people. These things are gifts. I mean, I can work in several disciplines. To do laser light shows that I’ve done for years, I have to be an electrician, I have to be a plumber, I have to be a contractor, I have to be an artist, I have to be an engineer, I have to be a safety guy.”

In 1987, Heminover pulled his various talents together to found a multimedia company, Aura Technologies Inc., which specializes in finding creative solutions to technological problems. The company has designed instant-replay boxes for the Major League Baseball, fiberoptics for Motorola, and electronic packaging for Leo Burnett Worldwide ad agency.

“Someday you’ll see a cereal box with a video game on the front,” Heminover says. “You’ll just throw it away when you’re done.”

Heminover seems to live and dream in a futuristic movie. His office is decorated with Star Trek and Star Wars posters. His cell phone ring is a Jetsons jingle. He even looks vaguely like George Lucas. The geekiness pays off; with thirty years of experience in electrical and design engineering, it’s guys like Heminover that continually invent the things we couldn’t even conceive of ten years earlier.

“What did Arthur C. Clarke say?” he asks, eyes twinkling behind wire-rimmed glasses. “'Any technology, sufficiently advanced, will seem like magic.'” Whether it’s the rise of the Internet or 3-D printing, Heminover is always on the lookout for the next frontier. Lasers are just his day job.

At the United Center, my personal laser show is coming to a close. Before he shuts down the system, Heminover says there’s one more feature that is reserved for “special guests.”

“You’ll like this,” he says with a sly smile. “And they say we don’t have a sense of humor.”

He boots up software that came pre-loaded on the laser system. A faint “Pew! Pew!” sound emits from the control room speakers as the 50-by-50-foot grid lights up with the opening screen of one of the world’s most recognizable video games.

“You play Asteroids on the ice of the United Center?”

Heminover starts to answer, but the urgency of fragging a 30-foot laser rock distracts him. He hands me the controls to the world’s most expensive video game and asks, “You got another quarter?”

It's not the best quality video, but you get the idea.

Ode to Elvis

I took an informal poll this evening of my friends' first CDs. The answers, unsurprisingly, were scattered; we covered everything from the Red Hot Chili Peppers and Pearl Jam to the Beach Boys and boyband realm (B2K, *NSYNC and of course BSB) to, adorably, the soundtrack to the beloved family film Andre. (It's about a seal or something.)

Now 4 was also mentioned, which is a little depressing when you realize that as of this year we're on Now 37 and we've gone from Hanson and Blink 182 and Britney to Ke$ha and Rihanna and Mike Posner. Kids these days, I tell you.

(But seriously, Hanson's still got it.)

Anyway, my first CD was an Elvis Presley "Greatest Hits" compilation.

Yeah. So awesome.

The King made an impression on me. In fourth grade, we each had to pick a state and do a presentation about that state. I chose Mississippi because, you know, who wouldn't? Double vowels FTW. Early in my extensive research in the elementary school library, I learned that Elvis Presley was born in Mississippi before he moved to Tennessee and made a name for himself. He obviously shared my love for the double vowel states. I was smitten. In the end my state project focused exclusively on Elvis. I don't recall how my teacher felt about that but I graduated the fourth grade so I guess it was okay.

Other loves followed. Beach Boys, Spice Girls, Blues Traveler, Phish. (My parents were -- are -- hippies.) Eventually the King and I lost touch. I reached further beyond my years, to Aretha Franklin and Etta James and Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby. When I was 12, I was convinced that I had been born 30-60 years too late. My friends learned the words to "Baby Got Back" and I learned the words to "Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered."

I'm now older and wiser and realize that Sir Mix-a-Lot and Ella Fitzgerald are not mutually exclusive. There's room in my heart for both the Supremes and the Smashing Pumpkins. Weezer and BB King can coexist with Britney and Ke$ha.

But Elvis. Elvis was my first.

Harlan Ellison tells it how it is

Some Wednesday inspiration for writers everywhere, straight from the mouth of a literary legend.

This clip is an excerpt from a 2008 documentary about Harlan Ellison. For more information, visit the film's website.

Seventy-seven percent left behind

Good morning class! First thing's first: Check out this article, published yesterday in the New York Times.

It's not exactly good news.

The idea that only 23 percent of New York City high schoolers graduate "ready" for college is astounding. So immediately the talk turns to raising standards -- but this seems to be a superficial focus on the end result instead of a directed investment of more time and effort into understanding why the education itself isn't working. It puts the burden on teachers and students to slave over what the answers on the tests will be instead of focusing on why so many kids are failing the set standards. We aren't adjusting education to fit their needs; we're attempting to adjust objective expectations to fit a subjective situation.

These findings also call into question how the standards have changed (indeed, the article even suggests the standards will change again in reaction to these findings); quality of the standards aside, how can we hope to measure success objectively if what we're measuring is constantly shifting? We leave ourselves with no foundation, no ground to get our bearings.

The "shock and hesitation" from local officials would almost be laughable if the article didn't go on to suggest that their primary concern is that real estate value will be affected. It says volumes about the importance placed on the (indirect, more lucrative) end result of education as opposed to the actual process.

And this just seems like wishful thinking: "City education officials said the 23 percent college-ready rate was not a fair measure of how the city would do if graduation requirements were raised to a higher standard, because students would work harder to meet that new bar." Um, what are you smoking, and can I please have some? It's like we're saying, "Sure, the kids aren't meeting the lower standards, but if we raise them then they'll snap out of it and get in gear! There's no way it could backfire and in reality push kids further behind by overwhelming them even more." It's like we have no idea what we're doing.

Am I wrong? Am I overlooking something? Assuming that we like the fact that education is free and available to all in this country, this "new" problem raises the old questions that are central to the education debate: How can we manage American education by setting objective standards in a completely subjective situation? What kind of test can be a probing and comprehensive evaluation of a student's understanding of subject matter? If we can't rely on standardized testing, how do we know kids in the Bronx and Houston and Nashville are getting the same quality of education as kids in LA County and Iowa City and Youngstown? A bar is necessary; how and where do we set it, and then how do we get as many kids over it as possible?

There are far more questions than answers. But one thing is certain: Students aren't failing. The schools are.

--
UPDATE, 2:09 pm: My teaching writing professor sent this article out to our class a few days ago, but I didn't read it until after composing this post. I'm only just beginning to understand how far-reaching the context of this debate is, but I'll be really interested to see what -- if anything -- happens July 28-31 in Washington, DC. And I'm bookmarking John Taylor Gatto's 2008 essay for some light bedtime reading later this week.

Shots of Winter

I have no business owning a beautiful DSLR; at one point in college I was going to take a photojournalism class but that didn't materialize. But the light at dusk today -- combined with yet another snowfall to top off last week's blizzard -- inspired me to run out to the space behind my building and take a few shots. I'm a fan of some of the light and angles. Enjoy!

I'm running out of room to put snow.

Jack Attack

My mother (of Friday Jams fame) has gotten me hopelessly hooked on Jack White. (After I introduced her to him in the first place, I might add.) For those who don't know, 35-year-old Mr. White is being hailed as the prodigal musician of a generation. He sings, plays every instrument in the band, and was the "under 40" representative on It Might Get Loud, talking guitars and shooting the shit with U2's The Edge and Led Zeppelin's Robert Plant. Kind of a big deal.

The band that introduced him to the spotlight, The White Stripes, announced their official breakup on Wednesday. According to the statement, it's not for any ill reason, but simply that both members (Jack and his ex-wife Meg) are moving on to new projects. Maybe they got sick of playing "Seven Nation Army" over...and over...and over...

It's just so damn catchy.

Happily, Jack's already got a bunch of other stuff going on. He fronts The Raconteurs, who have put out a couple of great records already, and in his newest project he's playing drums, guitar and sharing vocals with Alison Mosshart (of The Kills). My first exposure to The Dead Weather was this provocative video, called "Treat Me Like Your Mother." And yes, my mother showed it to me first.

The live version is just as good if not better. Next time Jack comes to town, who's going with me?

Come on. That's awesome.

An Historic Blizzaster

Our street on Wednesday afternoon.

I had my first snow day since junior high yesterday. I'm not going to lie, it was pretty awesome. I was stuck in my apartment with two roommates, Mr. Fidler and my cat. Luckily we had a fridge full of food and tasty beverages and no problems with power or heat, so it was basically a mid-week Saturday during which we had zero obligations or responsibilities as a result of being physically incapable of leaving the apartment. I know, tough times. We did venture out into the snow a bit:

Twenty inches of snow, and no plowing on the side streets. Sucks to be you.

Brittan leads the way to find her car.

We got 20.2 inches of snow, making this the third-largest snowstorm in the city's history. The last time we had this much snow was in 1999, with 21.6 inches. (The biggest ever storm was in '67 and dumped 23.0 inches.) Chicago Public Schools (CPS), which haven't closed since that '99 blizzard, have closed for two days straight and will likely be closed again tomorrow, making this a 5-day weekend. (Great for students, sucks for parents.) Northwestern canceled a full day of classes for only the fifth time in its 160-year history.

An abandoned cab in the middle of W. Dakin St.

Valiant effort, Mr. Cabby.

What amazes me, and what we were talking about as we wandered the post-apocalyptic scene (can you believe that cab?), was how a natural disaster like this has the capability of shutting down an entire city, but not actually injuring anyone. It wasn't just the snow -- there were 25-foot waves slamming into lakeshore and 70-mph winds blowing it all around. Some people spent the night in their cars, and hundreds of vehicles were stuck on Lake Shore Drive.

Under the el track just south of the Sheridan stop.

But for the most part the mood yesterday was jovial. There were dozens of people on the streets, walking around taking pictures and jumping in the snow. It was an historic day, and we all got to enjoy it together. We even saw one group sitting outside, in the middle of the impassable road, grilling and drinking beer. Hopefully the number of people adversely affected (lost wages, childcare, etc.) is minor compared to people that got to act like 12-year-olds for the day. Though I'd wager a good number of shoulders are sore today from digging out cars and front steps from under the 20+-inch thick snow blanket.

To top it all off, we got to experience THUNDERSNOW. Epic. Who wants to make bets on the birth rate spiking in about nine months?

Oh yeah, and we did eventually find Brittan's car. Hopefully she doesn't need it anytime soon. Like, you know, before spring.

Changing Paradigms

It's Monday, which means I have my Teaching Writing class tonight and therefore I'll spend all of today reading and hyping myself up for it. (Teaching is a frame of mind, people.)

Below is a video we watched the first day of class at the beginning of the quarter. It really blows my mind with how eloquent, interesting and engaging it is. The Royal Society for the encouragement of Arts, Manufactures and Commerce (RSA) took a speech by Sir Ken Robinson and turned it into an animated infographic. The talk poses some really great questions about how we view education in our society, and from where those conceptions came (hint: the intellectual culture, social structure and economic imperative of the Enlightenment).

If learning were this fun all the time, we wouldn't have as many problems with education. One of the things that really jumps out at me is the idea that we shuttle our anesthetized kids through school by age -- "manufacture date" -- as opposed to any sort of objective system. What works for one kid, for one classroom, for one entire socioeconomic class, doesn't work for all.

"God Damn You Half-Japanese Girls"

A couple weekends ago I saw Weezer at the Aragon with my friend Laura. I've been completely obsessed ever since, particularly with this song (off the Pinkerton album, which they played in full when I saw them) and video. Happy Friday!

I love the moment around 2:15 when they've been going double-time and then they HIT IT and go halftime again. Every time it happens, no matter where I am -- sitting at my desk, on the el, on the treadmill -- I have to stop and do a little head bang dance.

Also, I will boldly* declare here, in print, on this blog, on the Internet, which means it's forever, that the Aragon is the best music venue in the country. Dare to argue?

* GET IT?