Monday, October 15, 2018

Docking

I am by no means tribal. However, if a war among tribes breaks out, I would probably assign myself to the Nerds. Not because I am one, necessarily. It has more to do with the meek inheriting the Earth and wanting to have a good seat. Anyway, I am sure I would gain admittance because I do associate parts of my body with characters from Star Wars. Hear me out. Though I am only 40, I already make sounds like Yoda when I try to get out of my car or up from a difficult sitting position. Long ago, I decided that if I had to give my ass a name, it would be Chewbacca. Let that settle for a moment. But in all seriousness, my brain is the Millennium Falcon. Yes, the Falcon is a spaceship but I defy you to prove it's not a character in those films. Why do I call my brain the Millennium Falcon? Because she's got it where it counts. I've made a lot of special modifications. She might be the fastest ship in the fleet.

OK, but back here on Earth, actual spaceships make the old "bucket of bolts" look like, well, a spaceship. After watching First Man, Damien Chazelle's film about Neal Armstrong, I was reminded of how insane it was to strap oneself into anything they called a space craft back then. Have you ever been to a carnival or amusement park and noticed that the ride you're about to go on must have been around for decades? You notice the old seat belt, faded paint, rusted metal, old car smell? You probably questioned whether or not you should get in, as well you should! Not only did guys like Armstrong get in something similar, they let someone shoot the thing into space, with them in it! And they were engineers and stuff!

Where am I going with this? As I watched Armstrong pilot these claustrophobic death traps thousands of miles above the Earth, I was reminded of piloting my own brain. I recalled comparing it to the Millennium Falcon. Most importantly, I made an important connection to the crucial mission that occurred before Armstrong made it to the moon.

As the commander of Gemini 8, Neal and pilot David Scott had to dock with the Agen a target vehicle. Bear in mind, just piloting one of these things is a feat of impossibility, much less perfectly aligning it with another craft that has found its way into orbit. Docking was the most crucial test in the series of missions that led to the moon landing. This first attempt was successful but soon after, the joined spacecraft began spinning out of control. Neal separated but this only made matters worse. Mission control even cut off communication with Neal's wife, so she wouldn't have to hear what was going on. She wasn't having it, so she marched right down to Mission Control and let them have it. Neal was able to regain control but most importantly, as we all know, he mastered docking and eventually walked on the moon.

Are you still with me? I began this new volume of my blog with an entry called Re-Entry. I was going for a metaphor of me, in my spacecraft, crashing to Earth. As a metaphor for my relationship with my life partner, it implied that she was grounded and I was from space. More recently, we celebrated our two year anniversary, but it was less than a year since that so-called Re-Entry. I wrote something for her The Spaceman & The Explorer. You know who the Spaceman is. But in calling her The Explorer, I think I understand her and us so much better. Explorers originate from some point on Earth but they are most alive in the exploring. They are curious. So I think she made it into orbit. And we've been docking.

Related image

Oh yeah. We've been docking. And the moon? That's just the first stop.