Cue theme music: “Mission: Impossible” theme
So there I sat in Mission Control thinking, “If it wasn’t 5:45 am, I’d have the coolest job in the world.” Yep, that’s me in the back room of Houston (as in “Houston, we have a problem…”), listening to an on-orbit checkout of the hardware I teach classes on to astronauts and flight controllers. And the best part of it is, even though it’s far too early in the morning to be up, I got to skate in just before ops started and can leave whenever I want. Pity the poor flight controllers, tied to their consoles. Pity the poor astronauts who can’t even step outside, but must follow step by step the procedures we trained them to execute. Well, okay, I don’t really have much room to pity the astronauts (the lucky stiffs) but you get the idea. An astronaut gets to go up maybe once every several years; I can walk down the hall to the simulator whenever. And my badge lets me in, just like it let me in to Mission Control. “…Badges? We don’t need no stinkin’ badges!”
That’s cool. But what about the future? Every year, NASA fights for the life of the manned space flight program in Congressional budget appropriations. The Dubya Administration has demonstrated apathy if not downright hostility towards the utilization of space. The general public’s attitude seems to be awe and pride when they get around to thinking about it, but few seem to find manned space flight necessary. I sometimes feel we are cruising space in Viking long boats, with our achievements destined for the footnotes of history, awaiting somebody with more funding than knowledge to “discover” our new worlds.
Why do we do it? Why do we need a space station? Why should we think about a lunar base, or humans on Mars? You may as well ask why we put—and keep—humans on Antarctica. Why does McMurdo Station survive? The research, the challenge, the thrill. The inquisitive, exploratory nature of humans can be redirected but not quashed, thank goodness.
We redefine the impossible every day at NASA, pushing the boundaries of what is known about the business of spacefaring. Two generations of scientists and engineers, pilots and mechanics, dreamers and doers have given to this cause, some with their lives. The human race has dreamed of being among the stars since first we looked into the night sky, but only in the last century have we ventured above our atmosphere, taking the first baby steps on our journey. Shall we give up our forward momentum in anticipation of stubbed toes and scraped knees? Or now that we’ve had a taste of walking, shall we discover what it is to run?