I admit that I have been in a state of flux since 2006. As with most of you, I was certain there were nine planets in our solar system: Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Neptune, Uranus (which I still laugh about every time I say it out loud in public) and Pluto.
In 2006 things went to hell in a hand basket as the astronomy gods, i.e., the International Astronomical Union, redefined what it meant to be a planet, all because they found another planet, one with the less than respectful name, 2060 Chiron, and later Eris, both about 27% larger than Pluto.
Rather than put them all on the planetary team, they sent Pluto back to the minor leagues, calling it a dwarf planet, which makes things really confusing because its descriptor still has the word “planet” in it.
Pluto had been playing on the team since 1930 when it was discovered by farm team scout Clyde Tombaugh and Walt Disney famously named a dog after it. While Pluto the dog is still a dog and Pluto, Pluto the planet is now just a dwarf planet instead of a real planet.
All of you who went through science class years ago are probably confused now because there didn’t used to be a minor league known as the dwarf planets. Oh sure, they threw Pluto a bone by calling these new dwarf planets Plutoids. But the astronomer gods decided that Pluto could no longer be in the outfield, that it had to warm the bench because it was no longer good enough to play with the big boys.
So now the universe is playing a player short, trying to cover all the bases with just eight players. Yes, you can make the lame claim that there are still nine, since the sun has been throwing a lot of heat as the pitcher for millions of years, but that still doesn’t placate the Plutonians who still hold that Pluto should still be a planet.
I am with the recent astronomy uprising regarding this. I never discounted Pluto’s planetary powers. Sure, it’s a long way from home plate. I guess I’m sympathetic to Pluto’s plight since I too played right field once, cast out in the middle of nowhere with absolutely no action.
Like Pluto, I did my job and I did it well. I mean, how cool is it playing right field? You get to watch dandelions grow right before your eyes and you never have to worry about botching an important play or missing the cutoff guy.
Pluto? I’m not sure he has a cutoff guy, though one could argue that Jupiter would be the ideal choice since it’s so hard to miss it in a forced double, even if you tossed made a grievous error. It would be like putting a starting lineman in football — all 385 pounds of him — at shortstop.
Still, Pluto is out there doing its job without complaint. Every day it shows up to do its work, never bitching about being out there in the middle of nowhere, not even uttering a sound about being sent down to the minors.
I can’t help but wonder why we have such a hatred for Pluto. It’s never done anything to us, except give us the ninth planet, which sounds so far more mystical than having eight planets. Haven’t we all wondered if there was indeed a 10th planet out there?
I think it would be great to have a sub. Or perhaps even a couple of subs. That way if Pluto wasn’t in the mood to play ninth planet, Eris could be called in from the bench. It’s not like the planets haven’t changed positions before. I only recently learned (i.e. today) that Neptune and Uranus changed places some 650 million years ago, back when the Mariners were actually in a pennant race.
And before Pluto got cheated out of a starting position, he used to slide in between Uranus and Neptune every 228 seasons or so, leaving Neptune out in the cold, literally.
So why not welcome Eris into the starting lineup? What would be the harm of having a 10th planet? Would it really screw us up any more than telling a large percentage of the population that we were wrong all along and that there has always been only eight planets, not nine? Don’t we have enough misinformation to grapple with already? I’m still having to deal with the fact that my parents lied to me about Santa Claus. And now we’re saying Mr. Galvin lied to me in 5th grade by telling me there were nine planets in the solar system?
Enough! Let Pluto play. Give it a starting slot on the team. Pluto can continue to play right field. That’s the natural place and it’s as it should be.
If we really want to say the sun is the pitcher, then we can always put someone else on the bench for a bit. I nominate the Earth. It’s really out of shape and not at its prime. I think it could use some time on the bench, time to think about whether it really wants to stay in the game and if it does, perhaps find some new coaches to help it get back into playing shape. We’ve been doing a crappy job.
As for 2060 Chiron? I suppose it can play too. It can keep Earth company on the bench until someone can resolve that horrible name. I mean, who has ever seen a jersey with the number 2060 on it? Wouldn’t that start a dangerous precedent in the sport of planetary mechanics? Would Jupiter want to go with 2061 Jupiter just to show its superiority in the lineup?
Better to just let Pluto play. If we want Eris or 2060 Chiron to play (after Chiron gets a new name), then I say terrific, let them play, too. I don’t mind it if we let others into the game, but kicking Pluto to the minors, that just makes my blood boil. Sorry, it turns out that blood boiling thing was because I was standing too close to the pitcher. I’d tell the sun to stop throwing heat, but that would do none of us much good.
In the Emerald City, looking for my Pluto Power pennant,
– Robb