They’re all three phenomenal in their own right, but Shatner and Tyson love to talk. And talk. And talk some more.
space
The last man on the moon
The short version
Commander Gene Cernan, the last astronaut to leave footprints on the moon, died quietly at his home in Houston yesterday, surrounded by his family. He was 82. Commander of Apollo 17, he spent 75 hours on the lunar surface. Cernan left there on December 14, 1972, and no one has ever been back, something that bothered him greatly. A native of Chicago and a Purdue University graduate, Cernan was the epitome of overcoming obstacles and doing one’s best.
What else you should know
Gene Cernan was born in Chicago in 1934, right smack in the middle of the Great Depression. Neither of his parents went to college, but they taught Gene the value of working hard and reaching for something better. That lesson stuck. The Bachelor of Science degree in Electrical Engineering he received from Purdue University in 1956 was the first of multiple academic achievements.
Cernan joined the Navy right after college and became a naval aviator, something that was a bit of a challenge because of his height. At six feet tall, Cernan’s was a common height for astronauts, but a bit large to fit in the cockpit of a Navy jet. Not only did he manage to do so, however, he recorded over 5,000 hours of flight time and some 2,000 aircraft carrier landings, one of the most difficult things to do in an airplane.
Cernan made three trips into space and his first, aboard Gemini 9, may have been the most harrowing. During that trip, Gene became only the second person to attempt a space walk. It didn’t go well. He had difficulty controlling his body in the weightlessness. The visor on his space suit fogged over from the condensation in his breath making it difficult to see. He struggled to pull himself back into the orbiter. Cernan lost 13 pounds on that trip, calling it the “spacewalk from hell.”
Offered positions on other Apollo missions, Gene held out for one where he was Commander. He wanted to be in charge of the mission and be able to walk on the moon himself. While none of the lunar missions were easy, Cernan made it look that way and made the most of his 22 hours on the lunar surface. He later wrote: “To go a quarter of a million miles away into space and have to take time out to sleep and rest … I wished I could have stayed awake for 75 hours straight. I knew when I left I’d never have a chance to come back.”
Most recently, in 2014 Cernan completed his documentary film, The Last Man On The Moon, which received general release just last year. The documentary chronicles the trip to the moon and Cernan’s life afterward. Throughout his life he was an active advocate for continued space research and returning to the moon, despite opinions of those in Congress who feel such trips are a waste of time and funding.
A little bit of trivia
Before leaving the moon, Cernan wrote “TDC,” his daughter’s initials, in the dust of the moon. Those initials, along with Cernan’s footprints, are still visible on the moon’s surface.
Before Leaving (2012)
“The irony of rule followers is they often quote a lot of people that do not follow as many rules as they do.” ― Shannon L. Alder
[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]Creative people have never liked feeling they were limited in any way. Adventurous people are much the same. Chances are, if you’re a friend of mine, you’re not a fan of limitations, either. Breaking rules? Hell yeah!
There is a song sounding like it’s from the old west that says:
Oh, give me land, lots of land under starry skies above
Don’t fence me in
Let me ride through the wide open country that I love
Don’t fence me inLet me be by myself in the evenin’ breeze
And listen to the murmur of the cottonwood trees
Send me off forever but I ask you please
Don’t fence me in
Cole Porter, who wrote the song based on a poem by Robert Fletcher, was nowhere near the “old west,” though. He wrote the song for a movie that was never produced. Go figure. Some ten years later, the song was given to Roy Rogers who made it a hit because, you know, horses and cowboys and those legendary wide open space were a big hit in post-war America. Interestingly enough, Porter never really liked the song all that much.
A lot of people feign amusement with the concept of wide open spaces, including space itself. Yet, when we find it, not too many of us are actually comfortable. Where space is truly plentiful, where there is an absence of things, there is also an absence of people, anyone with whom one might have a decent conversation, and from there matters quickly get boring. And lonely. And suddenly those wide open spaces aren’t looking quite as good as they did when one first arrived.[/one_half]
[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]When it comes to space, I live in a world of sometimes uncomfortable juxtaposition. A very basic rule of photography is to fill the frame; make the whole picture interesting, give the eye plenty to see, but make sure it’s all cohesive. At the same time, though, advertising needs space, white space, sometimes a great deal of space, for all the copy that goes into an ad. Some are simple, with little more than a product logo and copyright/trademark notices. Others, especially those having anything to do with medicine, can be quite extensive with a requirement for a full list of possible side effects. For those ads, there’s no such thing as too much space.
Today’s picture breaks the fill the frame rule. Maybe it’s still the ad person left in me, but I like the space. I like that there’s room for copy, a lot of copy, but no copy exists. In my mind, the space gives the mind room to create its own story, its own copy, to go along with the picture. We titled the image, “Before Leaving,” because the way in which her body is slightly turned gives one the impression that perhaps she is on her way out the door. Why? That’s for you to decide. Maybe she’s looking for pants. Maybe she’s about to take a shower. Maybe she’s changed her mind and doesn’t like you as much as you thought. Maybe she’s not a fan of the space.
Giving an image space, sometimes a lot of space, leaves a story open to almost endless possibilities. I like that mystery, myself. I’m not looking for a world all neatly bundled together and fitting nicely into a frame. I enjoy concepts that require thinking for myself. For me, space is a friend and I frequently break this rule, especially for portraits. Let this moment be endless, not boxed and framed and predictable.
Just don’t fence me in. Please. Whatever you do. [/one_half_last]
The Sky Is Falling. On Florida. Again.
My personal disdain for almost everything Florida knows no limits. From its insane antics to its morally deprived and equally insane politics to its over-rated beaches and redneck behavior, There isn’t much about Florida that justifies people going there. Ever. There’s an equally good Disney attraction in Anaheim and dozens upon dozens of better beaches around the world. I mean, have you seen Hawai’i? So, I’m never surprised when the universe seems to take a shit on the god-forsaken state.
Well, it’s happened again, this time in the form of space trash that refused to burn up during re-entry. A piece of space junk used batteries from the space station that were supposed to burn up when they hit the earth’s atmosphere. This isn’t a fast process and normally it takes everything anywhere from two weeks to two months to make the trip. But not everything burned up this time. Instead, a piece about the size of a cell phone, if cell phones looked like a chunk of mastodon tusk, fell into a home in Naples, FL. When I say into I mean through the roof, the ceiling, and the floor. All the way through.
Alejandro Otero, the homeowner, said his son was at home when the event happened. There was a “tremendous” noise and then, boom, the sky fell onto the Otero’s home. No one was hurt, fortunately, but NASA says they’re going to have to “recalculate” how space trash re-enters the atmosphere.
Gee, ya’ think?
This isn’t the first time the sky has fallen on Florida or other places around the globe. Every time a new satellite goes up there has to be a projection for when/where it is expected to return when it leaves orbit. Most pieces are expected to burn up. The big pieces they hope will fall into an ocean. Those calculations are wrong to a somewhat frightening degree.
Granted, one is still more likely to get hit by a bus driven by a drunk Republican in Florida, or smashed by a raging bull elephant anywhere else. “Large uncertainties, primarily driven by fluctuating levels of atmospheric drag, prevent more precise predictions at this time,” according to the ESA (European Space Agency), which is one of NASA’s partners in the orbiting laboratory. That means, “We don’t know what the universe is going to throw at us, so maybe go ahead and duck.”
Since so much of what is in space leaves here from Florida, I guess we shouldn’t be too terribly surprised when the universe tries to send it back from whence it came. I’ll just add this to the already long list of reasons to stay the fuck out of Florida.
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