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It’s Not The Age, Its the Mileage

Another birthday.


Full disclosure, I’m 58 going on 12.

That’s because I still want to be an Astronaut.  I gave up on my being a cowboy dream after my performance at the Celebrity Bottle Calf Show recently at the Poweshiek County Fair.  You know you didn’t do too good, when you interview a 9 year old kid the next morning and when you ask him if he thinks he could do better, he responds “probably”.

Back to space. ..

My recent trip to the Kennedy Space Center, along with the 50th anniversary of the moon landing is responsible for my resurgence of interest in astronautics.

or maybe its the Tang.

I was particularly fond of Grape Tang as a kid.  Sure, it wasn’t what “the astronauts drink” but it was tastier.

My issue with space flight as I got older was two-fold . . .

1:  I’m EXTREMELY claustrophobic! And the taller I got over the years, the worse it has become.  I start to panic when I have to work under the sink to fix a plumbing problems.

2:  I’m now VERY susceptible to motion sickness!  The Harry Potter Quidditch ride at Universal made me hurl!  Ironically, the Mission Space ride (the Orange version which was supposed to very realistic) did not bother me, so there is hope that if I’m crammed into a tiny space and can’t see anything moving around me, it may not bother me.

That plus the fact that I’ve interviewed a REAL astronaut (Dr./U.S. Senator Harrison “Jack” Schmitt)

and he’s told me the real horrors of space travel.  I’m not talking about monsters, explosions (rocket that is) or computer malfunctions,  more like bodily function issues, and hygiene.

I gotta take a shower every day, and wash my hair.  It goes back to the trauma of me NOT being able to do it for several weeks when I broke my neck in 8th grade.  Dry Shampoo?!?  JOKE!  Apparently, there is no real running water in space, no proper showers, and don’t even ask about how they use the little astronaut room.  There ain’t one.  Just a rube-goldberg inspired contraption involving vacuum suction.  Let’s face it, there are just some places we don’t need hickeys.

So until the whole Star Trek kinda space travel is developed,  I’m outta luck reaching for the stars . . .

maybe I better start working on my ropin’ and ridin’