July 15, 2009
We Choose To Go To The Moon
July 16th marks the 40th anniversary of the launch of Apollo 11. I explain to my daughters that once upon a time we were a great nation that strived for the stars. No more. Now we are ashamed of glory, because some fucking crackhead might feel neglected if we don't dote upon her, and slather her with our largesse at the expense of the Great Things. Obama is sacking the Constellation program. We won't be going back to the moon, and forget Mars.
But once upon a time the Senator packed us up in the station wagon and drove to Titusville to see my aunt, and to witness the launch of Apollo 11. It was a goddamned beautiful thing, too.
We arrived a few days early to visit my aunt. A couple of years later the Senator ensconced my grandparents, his in-laws, in a nice condominium highrise on the Indian River there in Titusville, so that they could watch space launches and such. But at this point they were still living in a government subsidized hovel in Birmingham, like the poor-assed crackers they were.
A parenthetical: my grandparents had eight kids, all successful to some degree in their lives, and none of them ever lifted a finger for their parents except for my mother and father that I saw. Moving his in-laws to that condo from the slums of Birmingham was probably the noblest thing the Senator ever did. Then again, my grandparents were pretty stingy and crabby old fuckers, and I can't speak for the upbringing they gave their kids, so maybe it was just a karma thing.
While we were in Titusville we drove down to Plant City to see my great aunt May, my crabby grandmother's sister. May had been well-to-do at one point, partying with Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald in Mexico and such, until a slick fellow swindled her out of an assload of Piggly Wiggly stock, and she became an indigent and crabby old woman like her sister.
Another parenthetical: when Aunt May finally died I attended her funeral, and shamefully ransacked her house for the Underwood typewriter legend told us Fitzgerald had given her. It was not to be found, apparently having been traded for dog food for supper some years before.
At this point May was still alive, though, and tending to two retarded sons, who were my parents' ages. Gulf Oil was giving away cut-and-fit cardboard lunar modules with a tank of gas, and we boys had several. Unfortunately, as soon as we'd try to work on them, Gene and Joe would want to help. They ruined them all, the fucking tards. I was very bitter about this for several years. Which I suppose makes me a stingy and crabby old fucker like my grandparents.
At any rate, the lift-off was a gas. Civilians were only allowed within eight miles of the launch, so the Senator had bribed a motel owner named Smith to allow us to set up lawn chairs on his riverfront establishment. Smith was a transplanted Yankee. I know this because my only recollection of the man was the fact that he studiously shaved the profuse black hair on his legs from the top of the sock line down to the ankle, and he was wearing sandals that day. It was really quite grotesque, and only a Yankee would do such a thing. Then again, southerners are predominantly Scots-Irish white trash, and are not as a rule as hirsute as our ethnic cousins to the north, so perhaps it was just a culture shock thing for me.
There is nothing quite as ball-quaking as a Saturn V lift off, Intrepids. Like an earthquake, and the shock wave hits a minute or two later. One of the finest moments of my life. Afterwards the Senator took us boys to Islamorada deep sea fishing. Life was grand.
I'll remember that trip the rest of my life, even when I'm selling off my valuables at garage sales to pay for the surgery Obamacare will deny me. I might even score some dog food for supper.
And here's the picture from the deep sea excursion. 52 king mackerel. Your faithful scribe is chillaxing in his Beatle boots on the left:
Years ago there was a short lived TV show starring Andy Griffith as a junk yard owner who built his own space ship to mine the junked satellites in orbit.
If we go back to the moon (and I think we must and will) it will be private enterprise that does it.
The bastards in charge right now can't keep us down forever. Eventually we'll just tire of listening to them and start acting in our own best self interest. If it takes removing a few of them messily...so be it.
We have the power......we just have to start exercising it.
Fantastic story. I was 4 months from being born but I think I still felt the rumbling of that Saturn 5
Posted by: hammer at July 15, 2009 11:39 PMI remember Apollo 11 quite clearly - and I remember seeing Neil Armstrong ("That's one small step for man, one giant leap for Mankind... uh, was I supposed to say 'for a man'? Aw, shit!") set his foot down on the lunar surface late on the evening of July 20 (EDT), on a black-and-white TV in my Uncle Phil's bedroom in North Miami Beach. I was, IIRC, somewhat baked at the time... but the knowledge that I was seeing a unique moment in human history was the real intoxicant.
That we have not been back to the lunar surface since the early 1970's is a crime against humanity's spirit.
Posted by: Elisson at July 15, 2009 11:59 PMWhat kdzu said. Private enterprise is the direction it's all going. Don't give up just yet.
Posted by: apotheosis at July 16, 2009 12:00 AMThe Vman,
Great times, I remember them well as a fledgling geek. (I had a "Brains Benton" type laboratory in my basement.)
I remember the whole family around the tv set watching the liftoff.. The whole nation was in love with our space program.
My dad took us to Chariles "sugar shack" for ice cream to celebrate. Not quite deep sea fishing but I knew my old man would have traded his truck driving job for a shot at riding that Saturn V and he was my hero for his fearlessness just like Neil and the boys.
Where have all the real men gone???
Bill Henry
Posted by: Bill Henry at July 16, 2009 1:19 AMI watched it all on German television and became more than a little pissed when the in-studio jerk asked the news guy stationed in the U.S. whether the Americans' reaction to the successful moon landing was what one would expect from typical "gum-chewing cowboys."
I was so pissed, I damned near nicked my ankles.
Posted by: Jim - PRS at July 16, 2009 4:03 AMIt's a sad commentary, V man, NASA has turned inward to satisfy the cult of AGW, Hanson is the perfect example of this. Technology is the new bogeyman, the obstacle to 'heaven on earth', Of course for this to resume, we'd need a candidate who still has the "can do" pioneer spirit in their soul. I don't know where we're likely to find one like that, do you?
Posted by: narciso at July 16, 2009 8:17 AMDon't worry. You won't have to sell valuables because even if you scrape together the change, Obamacare will deny you the opportunity of that head transplant, unless everyone gets one too.
Regards.
Posted by: R. Sherman at July 16, 2009 9:18 AMI've seen many Saturn 5's light up. You're right...a shaking experience. I've also camped out on a school of King Mackerel, somewhere off Duck Key. Slayed 'em we did.
Fond memories...RP-1 and LOX...fuel, and fish...what a combination.
Posted by: Sam at July 16, 2009 10:36 AMMy rocket scientist uncle from Huntsville got my Dad a VIP pass to the launch. Mom and us kids watched from Cocoa beach. We saw the landing on a black & white TV in a motel room in Key Largo. and yes, I had the lunar module from Gulf. Had completely forgotten about that part!
Posted by: Cletus Socrates at July 16, 2009 10:50 AMI saw Apollo 15 lift off from a vantage point on Cocoa Beach.
Those were the glory days. We really thought we could do about bloody well anything.
Posted by: Jeb Raitt (donal_mac_r on LJ) at July 16, 2009 11:57 AMYeah, I remember flying down the street on my bike when the LEM touched down screaming like a banshee. I was 11, same as the mission.
I remember APOLLO 12 too, only because that was the one where, right after touchdown, they inadvertantly aimed their one-and-only video camera straigt at the sun. That was it for images from that mission until the stills they took were developed later.
Remember developing camera film, kisd?
Our family was glued to the television ... from the launch, to all of the announcements along the way (and the broadcast simulations and diagrams), to the landing and excursion, the return trip, and splashdown ... Is there one DVD that has all of this coverage, so you could relive it?
Posted by: PeggyU at July 16, 2009 3:29 PMFifty two Kings. God damn. That's a right haul of fish in anyone's book.
I got into a school of Specks wade fishing on the Mississippi Barrier Islands once that gave me that same degree of chubby. Had a pink Mirro Lure tied on the old Ambassador. It was as fast as the lure hit the water. Sometimes the first one would shake it out and another would hit it. Filled up a 5 gallon bucket in about 6 minutes with legal Specks. The ferocity and voraciousness of those schooling sea trout was just amazing.
Never happened to me again.
Posted by: Andy at July 16, 2009 5:09 PMI wish I took care of my vehicle as well as I take care of my brace of Ambassadeur 5000's.
Interesting side note: Apollo 13, with all of the attendant unlucky 13 facts associated with it, launched on my 13th birthday. Always felt a bit responsible and guilty for that one.
Posted by: Velociman at July 16, 2009 5:58 PMNothing like a Red Reel in your hand, I always say, unless the other choices are a fat ass spliff or an engorged nipple. Then I may have to think about it for a bit.
I watched Apollo 12 on a black and white in my folks' Mission 66 house inside the Oconaluftee District of the GSMNP. I was five, but I do remember associating great importance to the event.
Posted by: Andy at July 16, 2009 8:47 PMWatched it on the front porch, where my entire family was sleeping that night 'cause my dad had refinished the floor. It was a great experience! And this was in Cleveland, without the benefit of firearms for protection!
Y'see, liberals here have made it all better now. Just try it these days!
Posted by: Cappy at July 17, 2009 6:49 PMWith the world of "crowdsourcing," I expect a group (like Open Luna) will come together and eventually put together most everything needed to get at least to the moon again. Private industry will have to finance it, but a good deal can probably be accomplished by sufficiently motivated hobbyists. After all, the Apollo 11 ground crew did the bulk of their calculations by hand.
For those following the anniversary celebrations, I definitely recommend wechoosethemoon.org. I haven't been able to get on the site itself yet because I had flash problems, but I saw a clip at http://www.newsy.com/videos/moonstruck_40_years_later and it looked cool.
Posted by: Daniel at July 20, 2009 5:03 PMThe father of a friend of mine had a Gulf station and he had stacks of the cardboard cut-outs. Wish I still had some now.
Posted by: Titan Mk6B at July 21, 2009 12:23 PMI have that same pic framed in the house. We all went back down to the same marina & took a pic with the same pose.
Posted by: Suzi at July 21, 2009 11:45 PMFirst we’d walk upon the Moon,
Then we’d land on Mars
The asteroids, the planets,
And finally the Stars
That beautiful Tomorrow
Waiting on today...
Screwing in the mud at Woodstock
We threw it all away
We preferred to gorge on slogans
And masturbate with angst
Instead of firing rockets
We wound up shooting blanks
We scorned the triumphs of science
And raised superstition high --
To screw in the mud at Woodstock
We sacrificed the sky
What's the point of spaceflight
Or the point of war and strife?
And what's the point of science
If it won't extend MY life?
We reject the claims of history
With its tears and sweat and blood
We think mankind's finest hour
Was an orgy in the mud
We abandoned our ambitions
For short-term pleasure schemes
And arrested our development
With counterfeited dreams
We demanded dope and circuses,
Enough for you and me --
We screwed in the mud at Woodstock,
Then went home and watched TV
-- HeadlessUnicornGuy and JakeWasHere
Posted by: Jake Was Here at July 22, 2009 11:15 AM