To The Moon.

Why the moon?

I believe that Kennedy said it best:
"Many years ago the great British explorer George Mallory, who was to die on Mount Everest, was asked why did he want to climb it. He said, "Because it is there."
Well, space is there, and we're going to climb it, and the moon and the planets are there, and new hopes for knowledge and peace are there. And, therefore, as we set sail we ask God's blessing on the most hazardous and dangerous and greatest adventure on which man has ever embarked."

In 1969, we achieved that goal - of landing a man (2 in fact) and returning him safely to earth. In the 3 years that followed, we did it again 5 more times. Since then, the US's NASA has sent men, women, and almost every order of animal into the skies, has developed systems with other nations, sent humans to low earth orbit on short and long term missions, and reached our robotic eyes and arms to the far reaches of space.


But why the moon?
Short answer: I don't know.
Call it folly, fascination, obsession, delusion... whatever. For some reason, my goal has always been to go to the moon. Even as a wee one, playing with my model Shuttle Enterprise and knowing I would sit beside Sally Ride someday, my goal was never low earth orbit. I would put my feet on the moon as sure as I have them on Earth today.

Always a goal setter, I had a few childhood dreams:
I would marry Davy Jones. That one kinda fell out when I learned what a "rerun" was and figured that the 40 year age difference would make a courtship too difficult.
I would become a rock star. Not quite, but I did play one song with a nice rock band at a festival many years ago. The 20,000+ crowd would have been welcomed had my recent diet not allowed my pants to fall too low while on stage. I'm sure the 20,000+ crowd would have welcomed me more had I not mooned them.
I would live in Chicago. Somehow, I always ended up living on an interstate route to Chicago. It seemed like a mystical land where everything was right (as long as you didn't say "Candyman" into a mirror or were fleeing Federal Marshals). For 9 years, I did just that. I lived in Chicago, worked at Navy Pier, went to the Judge Joe Brown show, rode the CTA, watched them dye the river green, ate Garrett's Popcorn, and cheered the Cubs. I only left because I had to choose between an expensive tuition or an expensive rent. After being homeless for 2 months, I knew I had to go somewhere cheaper to finish my schooling. Sad... Had I hung on just another month or so, the rental market bottomed out and I would have found somewhere in my price range.
I would go to the moon. Or Mars. Depended on the day you asked me. Even as a youngin' I knew Mars was where it was at. While my schoolmates were plotting to Jupiter (it's so big!) or Saturn (I like the rings!), I trusted the data that Mars was most closely analogous to us. The moon, though... Man... It's so hard to explain to sciencey people that you have a purely emotional reaction. Why do I want to go to the moon? I really don't know. It calls to me. The moon is Sputnik 0 - our original Traveling Companion. When I hear the words from the moon, my eyes leak. No, I don't cry. The emotional response I have to the moon is so autonomic that I can't even call what I have an emotional response. The moon is my soul. The moon is my home.

I choose to go to the moon because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of my energies and skills, because that challenge is one that I am willing to accept, one I am unwilling to postpone, and one which I intend to win.
And, knock on wood that Blogger will be there, you are coming along with me.