Wednesday, 3/29

How much do I enjoy flying? Well, even though I'm on a plane with crying kids, screaming kids, more crying kids, and kids who are hacking their lungs out, I can just stare out the window and zone out by letting the world glide by below me.

THAT'S how much I like flying.

Greetings from 33,000 feet above (with apologies to country music fans) the Florida-Georgia line, on my way back to Marquette from a few days visiting my parents. As you may remember what I wrote before I left, I wanted to accomplish three things. I wanted to see my parents, I wanted to spend some time in the heat and the sun, and I wanted to see the most glorious flying machine ever built. Well, guess what?

Done, done, and done.

While I didn't have a lot of time down there I made the most of it, aided by clear skies and temperatures in the middle 80s each day I was there. I got there Saturday night, spend all day Sunday playing outside (and have the skin tone to show it), and then spent all day Monday acting like a 7-year old at one of the world's greatest playground for space nerds. I even got a little more warmth in this (Tuesday) morning before heading back to a place where, sadly, it's only 40 or so degrees cooler than it was when I woke up.

Oh well. You can't have everything. Besides, to quote a great American philosopher, where would you put it?

My parents winter in Melbourne Beach, so it only makes sense that one of the first places I'd go would be the beach, right? All I had to do was this one simple act, and another of my trip objectives was accomplished--

I spent most of the day walking the beach with my parents, borrowing my dad's bike for a ride in the sun, and taking a whole bunch of pictures, including birds--

Trees that look like birds--

And an amazing sunset as viewed from down the street from where my parents live--

Then Monday, we headed north and I became that 7-year old again as we went to the Kennedy Space Center, where the rest of the kids and I played to our heart's content. Don't believe me? This was within the first ten minutes of walking in--

I actually hadn't planned on sitting in the mock up of the Gemini capsule, just like I didn't plan later on sitting in the mock up of the Apollo capsule or the mock up of the shuttle control cabin. It just kinda happened. You know how that goes, right?

Please tell me you know how that goes.

We took the bus tour out to the Apollo Center, where one of the three remaining Saturn Five boosters still exists--

As does the actual Apollo 14 command module that went to the moon & back--

Then, of course, came the piece de resistance, designed for maximum effect. You go up a circular walkway, watch a video, go through a door, watch another video, and then as the music swells as the end of that video, a huge door rises and you see this--

I almost cried.

Even more than I imagined, Atlantis is breathtaking. Given the chance, I could've spent hours just walking around the ship and staring, my jaw constantly agape. The orbiter itself is bigger than I thought, while at the same time the nose section—the portion that carried the crew—seems so tiny compared to the rest of the ship. You could see the scars of 33 mission on Atlantis, but that actually seemed to give the ship a personality. Everywhere you looked you noticed little dings on some of the thermal tiles, and you could also see the accumulated wear and tear on the ingress hatch (where the crew came and went). But the ship looked like it could easily fly another 33 missions.

It's just too bad it never had the chance.

So, that accomplished, my mission to Florida (and its three objectives) was complete (and that's not even counting the pumpkin pie my mom made as a surprise). I don't ever think I can thank my parents enough for the past few days, especially for putting up with my regression back to the 7-year old version of Jim. Although, as my mom did say, she learned more about the US. space program from my non-stop babbling than she ever would've from a tour guide, so maybe it was good for something.

So thanks for everything, mom & dad. See what all those space books and models you bought me as a kid turned into?

Now, it's back to reality. Although at least it's back to reality with a tan, a flash drive full of pictures, a backpack full of souvenirs, and a grin that just won't leave my face.

(jim@wmqt.com)