Rocket Man

Steve and Emily pose in front of a Saturn 5 rocket at the Johnson Space Center, Houston, Texas.

     I married a rocket man.  Not a real astronaut, just a guy who has always harbored a secret wish to be one.  I've always known this.  When we were dating he revealed his deep childhood interest in the moon landings.  He remembers exactly where he was when he watched the moon landing on July 20,1969 -- it was in a motel room in Galveston, Texas, on vacation with his family.  (I may have been in Texas, too, though I don't specifically remember where -- that was the summer my family moved from Atlanta to San Antonio.)  He has committed to memory all manner of facts pertaining to the Apollo missions.  And the sole reason Steve signed up for HBO was so we could watch Tom Hanks' "From the Earth to the Moon" series several years ago (well worth it, by the way).  Not surprisingly, this year, on the 40th anniversary of the moon landing, Steve made it a point to watch the corresponding episode of "From the Earth to the Moon" to commemorate the event. 

     During our courtship, Steve also confessed his lifelong obsession with fireworks and rockets; to prove it, he brought along his decades-old stash of bottle rockets and model rockets when we moved in together.  The items were contained in a shoebox, carefully preserved like sacred family heirlooms.  Over the years the box moved from the back of a closet shelf to the storage room in our apartment building.  When we moved into our house it found a permanent home in the basement.  There it stayed until our son was in junior high.  When Greg was old enough to handle such items without burning himself (we hoped), Steve got them out and dusted them off.  Unfortunately, they hadn't fared well in storage, so Steve went out and bought another model rocket kit.  Last summer he and Greg made a trek to Shawnee Mission Park to launch the rocket.  They did.  It shot into the air and landed . . . somewhere.  It supposedly landed in a grove of trees, but it might as well have landed in the Pacific Ocean; Steve and Greg never found it.  Thus, Steve's brief career as an astronaut came to an abrupt end.

     But not his endless fascination with the cosmos!  Just a week and a half ago we drove out to the country to take part in what has been an annual tradition since before Greg was born:  Watching the Perseid meteor shower.  Just after midnight on Wednesday, August 12th, we packed lawn chairs and blankets in the van and drove out to our favorite spot, just off the aptly named Evening Star Road in western Johnson County.  We set up the chairs and blanket on a grassy area next to the road, let our eyes adjust to the darkness, and peered up at the sky.  Even though the moon was fairly bright that night, we still saw numerous meteors streaking across the sky, many bright enough to leave a trail.  The meteors tend to originate in the northeastern part of the sky, near the constellation Perseus (who, in Greek mythology, cut off the head of the snake-haired demon, Medusa).  The meteors typically travel from northeast to southwest.  This year's shower did not disappoint!  When Greg was younger, we often brought his cousins or friends with us.  We used to make an evening of it -- take in a drive-in movie, head out to Evening Star Road to watch the meteors afterward, and then take all the kids back to our house to spend the night.  This year it was scaled down -- no movie, friends, or even snacks -- just the three of us.  But we wouldn't miss it.  No matter how many times we've gone out Perseid-watching, we have never tired of it.

     We haven't limited our star-gazing to the Perseids, though.  A few times we've traveled back out to Evening Star Road in November to watch the Leonid meteor shower.  Of course, it's colder then and favorable weather conditions less likely.  Still, one of my favorite memories is the autumn evening in 1996 that Steve and I took Greg, then 4 years old, to the Powell Observatory near Louisburg, Kansas to watch the Hale-Bopp Comet.  There was a long line to go inside and observe the comet through the big telescope, so we elected to take our fidgety child outside to one of the many telescopes set up on the observatory grounds.  Hale-Bopp was so bright, we hardly needed a telescope at all -- much more satisfying than the faint Haley's Comet ten years earlier! 

     The "final frontier" also played a part in some of our vacations over the years.  On the way to Colorado in 1998 we spent several hours at the Kansas Cosmosphere in Hutchinson, home to many space program artifacts, including the Apollo 13 capsule (eerie!).  The following year we visited the Johnson Space Center in Houston, where we toured the original control room for the Apollo missions and had our picture taken in front of the massive Saturn 5 rocket displayed on the grounds (see photo above).  About that time, Greg was into his "Star Wars" phase, so he and his dad were in spaceman heaven visiting all the interactive exhibits.  No surprise, then that Greg is taking an astronomy class this year in school -- and it's already one of his favorites.  Steve is very proud!

     Just to be clear, I enjoy these activities as much as my family does, although I'm not so obsessed with all the facts and figures.  My interest in watching the comets and meteors is more aesthetic than scientific, which is probably why my favorite star-gazing memory is from a trip out west we took two summers ago.  We were visiting Mesa Verde in southwestern Colorado.  We spent the day touring the centuries-old cliff dwellings and then spent the night at the lodge in the park.  With no television service available and no other activities except for a sparsely-furnished game room, Steve and I decided to take a walk outside around the lodge.  All of a sudden a generator failed and all of the lights went out save for a couple of battery-powered emergency lights in the main lobby.  But the sudden plunge into darkness revealed a truly wondrous and beautiful display in the night sky.  From our vantage point standing there on top of the mesa, the sky looked like a rich carpet of stars, so close you could almost touch them.  We sat down on the ground and just stared up at this celestial tapestry -- even saw a couple of meteors  streak across the sky!  We marveled that it was so quiet (we could hear the breeze blowing through the trees, and the far-off howl of a coyote), and we noted that this must be what the ancient cliff dwellers saw every night.  In that moment we felt more connected to the people who had lived there so long ago, and we never would have noticed if not for the power outage.

     I bring all of this up because today is my husband's birthday.  We seldom give each other gifts for our birthdays; we usually just go out to dinner together.  But this year, with the 40th anniversary observance of the moon landing and the passing of NASA devotee Walter Cronkite last month, space has been a frequent topic of conversation at our house.  So, when I saw the commemorative "moon" books at a bookstore a few weeks ago, Steve's birthday gift became a no-brainer.  Greg and I presented him with the books last night, and he was (naturally) delighted.

     Happy Birthday, Rocket Man -- thanks for keeping the stars in my eyes!

Senior Moment No. 3: The Last "First Day" of School

Note to reader: This is part of an occasional series of postings chronicling my son Greg's senior year in high school. The above photo was taken on August 14, 2009, Greg's last "first day of school."

Finally, the last year of school has arrived. Greg's senior year began Friday morning when he got himself up, made his own breakfast, and drove himself to school in his own car (okay, legally the car belongs to us, but he's the sole driver now). Technically, the only reason I had for getting up early to see him off was to take the photo at the top of this posting. Of course, Greg thought I was slightly crazy and certifiably corny for doing so. He muttered a mildly annoyed, "Oh, Mom," but he was a good sport about it!

It's a far cry from years past when I was his alarm clock, knocking on his door at 6:45 am . . . and again at 6:50 . . . 6:55 . . . "Greg, it's 7:00 -- you need to get up NOW!" I made him breakfast most every morning until the middle of last year when he finally agreed with me that he could pour cereal into a bowl just as easily as I can (and add milk, too!). The days when he needed me to help him tie his shoes in the morning and double check that his signed permission slips were in his backpack are ancient history now. Those were things for which I automatically assumed responsibility while Greg was in grade school. Particularly in the early grades, I kind of enjoyed "hovering" -- I felt, well, needed. But that began to change by the time Greg entered 6th grade. I'm sure I'm not the only mom who discovered what was adorable behavior in an 8-year-old became downright exasperating in an 11-year-old. I kept reminding myself that my job as a parent was to gradually usher my child to adulthood, and that meant letting him -- no, insisting -- that he start doing a few things for himself. Easier said than done. All my fantasies about getting to sleep in until 8:00 once Greg hit 7th grade went out the window.

My usual routine all through Greg's junior high years went something like this:

6:20 am -- Greg's radio alarm turns on, blasting me out of bed. After four or five blaring minutes in which he obliviously remains asleep, I stagger out of bed, knock on his door, and yell over the din, "GREG! HIT THE SNOOZE BUTTON!" (This scenario is repeated at least twice.)

7:05 am -- Greg finally crawls out of bed, takes a leisurely shower, and gets dressed. Of course, time is growing short, so (against prevailing child-rearing wisdom) I make him breakfast --which he gulps down in five minutes or less, spurred on by my impatient reminders that his ride will be here ANY MINUTE!

7:35 am -- While Greg feverishly brushes his teeth, I retrieve his horn from the studio and set it by the door (because, of course, he won't remember it). As he's stuffing his iPod into the outer pocket of his backpack (funny -- he doesn't need any reminders about that particular item), I'm handing him a signed paper (there was always a paper that had to be signed and returned) and saying, "Now DON'T forget to give this to (fill in the blank) as SOON as you get to school! Go STRAIGHT to (his/her) room before school and turn it in!"

And so it went, day after day, for three and a half years. I learned to ask on a daily basis for updates on band schedules, assignment due dates, and fee payment deadlines. Most of the time I got a bewildered "I don't know," which usually meant I'd better start making phone calls or go online and find the information myself. There was some improvement when Greg entered high school. We went from "I don't know" to "Oh, by the way, Mom, I need (fill in the blank) by tomorrow!" We had jumped from the fire into the frying pan -- we were making progress! Still, I resigned myself to being Greg's unpaid personal assistant for the rest of his formal schooling.

Then, somewhere in his sophomore year, Greg started behaving oddly. He would announce to us that he had homework to do, and he would actually go to his room and do it. If he had papers that needed to be signed and returned, he would hand them to me as soon as he got home from school with the urgent admonishment, "I need you to sign this now -- it has to be turned in a week from Monday!" His grades, which had not exactly been at the top of his priority list in junior high, were suddenly . . . important. By the end of his junior year, Greg was a straight-A student. He has also worked a part-time job at Pizza Hut for eight months. And did I mention he mows the lawn, does his own laundry (with very little prompting from his parents, I might add), and even cooks some of his own meals? If I didn't know better, I'd say he acts like, well . . . a grownup!

And, in grownup fashion, the last "first day of school" was pretty uneventful. Nothing to get too excited about -- this is so routine anymore. The first day of Kindergarten was monumental; I really felt like a sea change had occurred in my life. This year? Not so much. I didn't feel the wistfulness I expected. I suppose it will hit me later. Then again, maybe not. After all, I've spent the last seventeen years of my life raising my son to be a functioning, productive adult, fully capable of taking care of himself. The fact that he can cook for himself, do his own laundry, and keep his grades up while responsibly holding down a part-time job speaks for itself.

So, I've decided not to think of Greg's senior year as a year of "lasts." Instead, I'm thinking of it as a year of refinement. All the elements are in place -- they just need to be polished. For me, that's what Greg's senior year is really all about -- putting the finishing touches on this work of art that has been 17 years in the making. For him, it's about just getting through it and moving on. Either way, I'm encouraged that he made a trip to the store tonight to get buy some cereal for breakfast tomorrow -- his last "second day of school." I'm looking forward to sleeping in for a change!

Shedding Pounds and Blowing Off Steam

This was supposed to be a blog about my weight-loss progress. I signed up for an online personal trainer about a month ago, and I figured it was time for an update (more on that later). But this past week I've been increasingly bothered by a weightier issue than my size: the health care debate. Or, more accurately, I'm bothered by the lack of a debate.

All this week there have been reports and numerous video clips of town hall meetings in which the proceedings were shut down before they even began. Mobs of angry people protesting health care reform have been showing up at these meetings and shouting down the congressmen and women trying to conduct a forum. Most, but not all, of these meetings are being conducted by Democratic representatives. The protesters, apparently assuming that any Democrat is in support of the current health care reform bill making its way (or not) through Congress, are using the "shout down" tactic to disrupt the meeting, thereby making it impossible for anyone else to get his or her questions answered.

Some news outlets have reported that many of these protesters are actually hired by the health insurance and pharmaceutical lobbies to disrupt these meetings. These so-called "astro-turf" organizers (that is, fake "grassroots" groups) are sent to the meetings with a scripted "spiel" and instructions on how to effectively interrupt -- and therefore stop -- the meeting. There have even been reports that some of these protesters have been bussed in, courtesy of the lobbyists, although such reports have been roundly denied. It also appears that many Republican party members, while perhaps not directly involved in organizing these protesters, have at least been complicit in these mob scenes through their own silence.

However this debacle began, it now seems clear that, encouraged by the "astro-turf" protesters, other "angry" people have started coming out of the woodwork to join them. The mob mentality has truly taken hold; otherwise reasonable people are joining in the melee, spurred on by unsubstantiated rumors about "killing off" the elderly and their own emotions. And for some, this is just an excuse to engage in anti-social behavior. Whatever the reasons, one thing is clear: another round of fear-mongering is in full swing.

What happened to civil public discourse in this country? When, exactly, did we devolve into a nation of "I'm mad as hell and I'm not gonna take it anymore" mobs? Has it occurred to any of these so-called protesters that they elected the very people they are trying to shut down? Instead of showing up at these meetings with clenched fists and "Just Say No" banners, why not sit down and actually listen to what these congressmen and women have to say? They are there to answer questions. Well, then, ASK QUESTIONS! But do it calmly and civilly, and then LISTEN to the response. If more people kept their cool and actually gave our representatives a chance to explain themselves, they might learn that the health care reform bill isn't quite as scary as some would lead us to believe. At the very minimum, we need to have a structured, civil, and productive debate on this very important issue -- not a free-for-all.

Now, what does all of this have to do with my weight-loss efforts? Well, I for one would like to know what exactly is in this health care reform bill. I have pre-existing conditions that may improve as I drop the pounds, but the very fact that I've been treated for high blood pressure and high cholesterol, for example, automatically puts me in a precarious position if my health insurance plan changes. And it could change on a dime whether Congress passes a reform bill or not. That's the point. In my opinion, those who are saying no reform is needed because they're happy with their current plan aren't looking very far down the road. You could lose your job, have a catastrophic illness or accident, or your insurance company could go out of business. Remember AIG? Lots of folks were upset with the bailout of AIG, declaring that they should "be allowed to fail." I don't disagree with that, but consider the ramifications of an insurance company failing under the current system -- what happens to the people who depend on that company for their health insurance? You see, it's a very complex issue; there' so much more to this than whether or not the elderly will be forced to make a living will.

Look, I don't even pretend to know what this bill contains, which is why I'd like to hear someone in Washington explain it to me and be willing to answer any questions I might have. But, in order for that to happen, we have to turn down the heat on the boiling pot and let our representatives speak. Until or unless cooler heads prevail, I'm afraid we'll never get to ask those questions. We're only hurting ourselves when we allow this kind of display to continue. I'm calling on Republicans and Democrats alike to say ENOUGH with the mob scenes. Yes, these are our elected officials, and we should hold them accountable for the content of their legislation. But, last time I checked, this is still a government of the people and by the people as well as for the people. We have a responsibility, too, to at least hear them out and to LISTEN.

So, for my part, I'm going to keep working on losing weight, just in case health care reform goes by the boards. I believe in personal responsibility, and for me, the best health insurance is taking care of myself. Well, I've lost 4 lbs. this past month. I must be doing something right.