Tomorrow, The Stars

"Speak to me of summer, long winters longer than time can remember,

The setting up of other roads, to travel on in old accustomed ways.

I still remember the talks by the water, the proud sons and daughter that,

Knew the knowledge of the land, spoke to me in sweet accustomed ways."

"Starship Trooper: a. Life Seeker, b. Disillusion, c. Würm"

The Yes Album, Yes, ("b." Squire)

When Tamara posted about this photo of a Martian sunset, I was surprised at how powerfully it hit me. I have in-laws who regularly make fun of how the only thing the space program ever brought them was Tang, and they don't even like Tang.

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I was reared differently. My mother sent in money, in the '60s, to the space program to help with the moon shot. When I was a boy, I had an 8X10 color photo of Allen Bean hanging in my bedroom. Dad had been reading Heinlein for decades before I was born, and our attic was stuffed with old issues of Analog and Isaac Asimov magazines. Both parents recounted how disgusted they were when they heard that the crowd at Woodstock had booed upon hearing how Apollo 11 had landed on the moon.

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All my life, I've expected us to set foot on frontiers beyond this earth. Making it to our own satellite is a necessary step, but it hardly represents a stopping point. There is new talk of renewing our reach to the other planets. I may see it, and I may not. But my daughters will. They may even have a part in it.

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My elder daughter returned last night with news that she was one of three in her class to make a perfect score on her state math test. Ironic, in that she's about as interested in math as I am in window treatments-- read: not at all. She'd have been prouder to have won the school-wide spelling bee that she qualified for earlier this year. But I'm proud of her. I know that she and her sister represent a chunk of our species' hope for salvation.

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As I mentioned in my comments to Tamara's entry, Elder Daughter gets a copy of Podkayne Of Mars this summer. Next summer, Tomorrow, The Stars.