Background:

The other day in my SOL Blog I asked readers to come up with a better definition of a second than equal to the time duration of 9 192 631 770 periods of the radiation corresponding to the transition between the two hyperfine levels of the fundamental unperturbed ground-state of the caesium-133 atom.

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Blog Entry:

We’ve all heard of a New York minute, but what about a Mars second?

I ask because at Desdmona’s FishTank someone mentioned the recent landing of a spaceship on Mars, and someone else remarked:

And now NASA has flown its helicopter - “a Wright Brothers moment” on another planet. NASA’s flight lasted 39.1 seconds - as long as the Wright Brother’s first three flights combined.

So I asked if a Mars second was the same as an earth second.

I got this reply:

No. It was 1/86400 of the solar day, but apparently that kept changing, so the powers that be adopted the following:

The second is defined as being equal to the time duration of 9 192 631 770 periods of the radiation corresponding to the transition between the two hyperfine levels of the fundamental unperturbed ground-state of the caesium-133 atom.

I suppose that’s clear enough. But is there casesium on Mars. And if not, does time stand still there?

In any event, I think we could use a more practical definition of a second. For instance: the time it takes Winnie, down at Red’s, to deflect a conventioneer’s straying hand from her scantily clad ass.

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The Big Tipper

It was past closing at Red’s Diner, but one customer remained. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him,” waitress Winnie told what was left of the late-night staff. “Go home, I’ll clean up and close up.”

“Ha,” waitress Bev said with a smirk. “I hope that guy gives you a really big tip.”

Once they’d departed, Winnie locked the doors, pulled the blinds, and asked the customer if he was ready to go.

“I might want seconds of your meatloaf,” he said.

“Sorry, honey, kitchen’s closed,” said Winnie.

“Figures.” The man stood up. “You ready for your tip?”

“More than ready,” Winnie admitted.

“Oh, Howard, you tip so good,” Winnie hollered, not much more than a minute later. “Oh yes, tip me with your big tipper. Oh yes, please don’t stop.”

Howard delivered. Winnie yowled with pleasure.

“My goodness that was good,” she told him, still sprawled atop table number nine. “I’ve never had such a good tip. Do you think I might have seconds of your meatloaf?”

Howard laughed. “Darling, when it comes to seconds, I’m a sixty minute man.”

Thirty-three trillion, ninety-three billion, three hundred-seventy-two million pulses of Cesium 133 radiation later, the second fuck was finally finished, to Winnie and Howard’s complete satisfaction and utter delight.

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Auguste Hand proposed that the second is the interval between the wife asking the husband a question while he’s watching a sporting event on TV and the husband’s response.

For example:

“Honey, do you like my new lover?”

“Yes dear.”

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If you have any suggestions for alternative definitions of a second which you might like to see illustrated (such as above), let me know. (I make no guarantees.)