When High-Fives Go South

Last night must have been the worst sleep of my month-and-a-week here in the Oakland Bunker. With the alarm set for 4:15AM to view the LCROSS impact I signed the death warrant on my rest. Really, I should have got up at 3:30 and ridden up to the Chabot Space and Science Center to view the impact through their telescopes and get some human interaction, because the NASA TV coverage was abysmal. Even the NASA commentator was nonplussed by the low resolution, juddering camera on the instrumentation vehicle, saying at the end something like "I don't know what we just saw." Coming off this Apollo Program behind-the-scenes history book I just finished last week the expectation was to view a grand, explosive finale of sorts from that cathedral of science and human ingenuity that was mission control in the 60s and 70s. Instead, Gene Krantz and Glynn Lunney were replaced by some balding guy in a red polo shirt, and the MOCR was just some side room at Ames Research Center a tad larger than our living room.

Of course it's the science and not the spectacle that counts on these kinds of things (though if NASA doesn't step up their show game they may feel further budget cuts) and even if I didn't see the ejecta plume there's still the furthering of human knowledge to keep me warm at night. That and the mirth from watching one of the flight officers totally being left hanging on a high-five with his colleague...

That was a priceless bit of hilarity at 4:40AM or thereabouts.

*********************

I think the joblessness is starting to make Maia crack. We just came back from the post office to mail off some volunteer applications to the Academy of Sciences and she slumped down on the couch with a depressed sigh. "What's wrong?" I ask. She replied, "I thought that trip to the post office would give some excitement to the day." Wow, a new low. When it's come to walking to the P.O. to get your kicks then you know something's screwy.

Join us tomorrow when we skateboard to the DMV!

--Matt