I wanna be a spaceman (er, woman)
So, I was glued to the television yesterday afternoon as discussions were going on as to whether or not to attempt re-entry of the space shuttle Discovery. At the gym this morning, I saw confirmation that they were indeed given clearance for landing in California. I rushed home in time to see the shuttle attempt to come back into the earth's atmosphere, a tense, unnerving moment for everyone. I sighed with everyone else, no doubt, when the shuttle landed safely, promptly at 8:11 am.
Silent prayers whispered, fingers crossed for this shuttle and its occupants on board. I remember all too well what it looks like when things do NOT go as planned. Ken and I were laying in bed eating cereal in 2003 when the Columbia shuttle disappeared from the screen right before our very eyes.
It sent be soaring back to the moment when I saw the Challenger come apart in pieces, a cold day in 1986. I was out of school sick, and sat in the den with my mom, her friend and baby, and my new baby sister as history was made right there on live television. Only 7 years old, the reality that death can come swiftly hit me like a ton of bricks. I suppose the Challenger tragedy is for my generation what the Kennedy assassination was for the baby boomers.....something you'll never, ever forget.
Despite all of the dangers involved (I mean, there are tons of dangers when we get behind our steering wheels), I still hold that the study of outer space is one of the most fantastic things ever.
I love all things space-y. I love watching interviews with Buzz Aldrin....I love all the space movies....I love telescopes....I love space museums. And if I were not so claustrophobic, and not so deathly afraid of flying, and tons more mathematically-minded, and living near an air force base, I would certainly try it myself.
Silent prayers whispered, fingers crossed for this shuttle and its occupants on board. I remember all too well what it looks like when things do NOT go as planned. Ken and I were laying in bed eating cereal in 2003 when the Columbia shuttle disappeared from the screen right before our very eyes.
It sent be soaring back to the moment when I saw the Challenger come apart in pieces, a cold day in 1986. I was out of school sick, and sat in the den with my mom, her friend and baby, and my new baby sister as history was made right there on live television. Only 7 years old, the reality that death can come swiftly hit me like a ton of bricks. I suppose the Challenger tragedy is for my generation what the Kennedy assassination was for the baby boomers.....something you'll never, ever forget.
Despite all of the dangers involved (I mean, there are tons of dangers when we get behind our steering wheels), I still hold that the study of outer space is one of the most fantastic things ever.
I love all things space-y. I love watching interviews with Buzz Aldrin....I love all the space movies....I love telescopes....I love space museums. And if I were not so claustrophobic, and not so deathly afraid of flying, and tons more mathematically-minded, and living near an air force base, I would certainly try it myself.
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