An old friend of mine brought up the fact this week marked the United States landing on the moon. He cloudily remembers his family noting this moment in his early childhood--many other friends chimed in, and a rash of memories mixed with dreams assaulted my heart.
I remember being in my sister's room--the television was just switched on, we had just arrived home from dinner. I remember "black and white" snowy puffy man walking in dirt.
We ran outside, looking at the sky. "There are people up there."
I was such a fan of the National Aeronautics and Space Administration--that old logo, with the red swoosh arching around the cosmos, like Kalel (Superman's Kryptonian name) vigilantly patrolling his blue home, stars glittering in the ecliptic.
Best patch of all time. It was a planet... it was a map... it was a badge... I knew we were going to live on the moon, with the great view of Earthrise on the horizon. Cancer was on the run, we were told, and flying cars were around the corner. I had posters of Neil Armstrong, the Apollo Capsules, moonscapes, and Edwin E. Aldrin, Jr.--the last name is only for you REAL fans....
Throughout the 70's, I was always looking at the sky. "Trek" only enhanced the experiences, with a healthy dose of "Space: 1999". After all, "Space: 1999" put our society on a bold timeline to meet this prophetic depiction on our saturday evening screens. "Star Wars" invaded my brain, but I knew at it's heart it was a science-less fable. George Lucas didn't really have a beat on reality or physics as we knew them. No, society will show the REALITY of a perfect "tomorroworld" (yeah, that's what I used to call it). I heard NASA was also developing a ship that would be a literal cosmic AIRPLANE that would effortlessly sail back and forth from the Earth to farthest reaches of the solar system--the Space Shuttle. Travelling outside our atmosphere was going to be a reality. The turn of the century was gonna be awesome!
I started to invent comic book contraptions and their schematics--I culled side views of the Baxter Building (Fantastic Four), wrote faux-formulas for the man-gliders (Nick Fury) and actually planned the timeline as if these gadgets were to be the true predecessors of the mega-technology promised us by the dreamers of the times. And, wouldn't it be awesome, if we actually found an equivalent substance to the power cosmic (Silver Surfer)?
Since I was young, I collected everything. Comics, toys, posters, records--my youth was awesome, because I couldn't wait to grow up in a beautiful future. A future of dreams! On weekend nights, I fantasized how long it would take to travel from tip of the Big Dipper to the tail on Draco. At least 303 years--don't ask me how, I just remember impulse power was the best way to go, and a tight-knit family would be the only solution for that kind of crew. By the late 70's, the first Space Shuttle received its name--Enterprise. I was in Heaven. I was convinced I would live the remainder of my years on another world.
As if on cue, I learned from a spoiled-brat on the playground (or was it football practice?), the Enterprise wasn't expected to travel in interstellar flight. Enterprise wouldn't even be active. It was a placation for the fans. It was one of the first times my love was demeaned by popular culture.
Time kind of got small for me--girls got prettier; the Space Shuttle program hit a few stalls; Captain Kirk looked a little older in "Star Trek--The Motion Picture" (still an awesome film, for me); "Alien" scarred my sci-fi brain with all the gore; my brothers fought with my dad a lot more; I listened more intently to family arguments; I lost track of The Avengers; Han Solo was abducted, and incased in carbonite. Pink Floyd's The Wall told me not to trust anyone, and I started to actively listen to that thinking.
A few years before, I read "The Lord Of The Rings," and kept reading it through the years. This was a different dream, not based in accomplishments or technology, but based in magic, and the fantastical. Add to the fact my friends and I discovered Dungeons and Dragons (1st Edition), and you have a teenage boy who was fed up with Man. Fantasy rode Ron through the 80's--Rush and Yes helped him travel inward, and growing up was a trip.
Needless to say, I grew up, got married, got a couple dogs, a couple degrees, and began to build a career. All this time, I looked sidelong at the calendars as the year 1999 settled into the present. That December 31st, in the waning hours of that sci-fi promise (the news, movies, the presidents, even other scientists told us 1999 was the Year Of Progress--for goodness' sake, there was a TV show SPACE: 199-freaking-9!!!). We had bills and earthly concerns, and, with a rushed tap of a champagne flute in a dark basement, I had to let childhood die. My wife had to retreat upstairs and go to sleep--the pregnancy was exhausting her. There were a couple of other times in my life where I felt as low in spirit... worst New Year's Eve ever.
Ten years later, my son Kalel will attend his first concert later in the summer--Rush at Red Rocks. We bought the uber-expensive tickets online, with the help of me selling some long-held collectibles (a couple old issues of Fantastic Four)... it's a fair trade, especially since I've amassed more issues at a better price, anyway. My wife and son will travel to see her father: an ex-NASA engineer, and will attend some space exploration displays and a "Star Wars" exhibit. By the time he leaves, though, I promised myself I'll guide him through his first dungeon with the Ranger character he created for the new Dungeons and Dragons (4th Edition). What a Lucky duck.
Thanks, Don
and Jeff and Mark...
and Laurie and Kal
