That Jules Vernesy thing below is a telescope made by my great-grandpa back in 1936. He was a machinist back in the olden days when people made stuff (aside from the usual wars of aggression, financial collapses, snarky blog comments). Cool stuff that worked and lasted and made you go, “Huh.” I didn’t know the man, but I knew his son, a dashing man enough in a tux (Cary Grant-ish) but when Granny was at his side “fuggeddaboutit” they were drop-dead handsome; also capable with his hands on boats, paintings (a very decent draughtsman), and according to the large nasty dagger he also left behind, apparently, Nazis; he seriously questioned, yelled from shore, who gave my brother and I “permission to go onboard” when we were shark-scared kids (pre-Jaws!) swimming out at Monomoy Island about thirty yards out. Sharks! dude. The friggin’ sharks gave us permission!
