Apollo 11
I have just
returned from our local highbrow-artsy theatre, where I saw the movie/documentary
Apollo 11. My heart-rate is beginning to get back to
normal, and I no longer need to remind myself to breath. You
must see this film! It consists
mostly of original footage, including dialog, and it sucks you in to the point
where you feel like you are the fourth person in the capsule, responsible for keeping everybody alive! If this is a documentary, and doesn’t win the
Best Oscar (as Linda was wont to say), then there is something truly rotten in
Hollywood.
Here are
some things I particularly noticed:
Mission
Control then consisted of about 100 guys – no women visible – each of whom sat
in front of a device monitoring – something.
At the proper time they would say “XXX is a go”, or words to that
effect. There even was a shot of a guy
typing a report, on a mechanical typewriter! Every one of these people wore a
short-sleeved white shirt and a necktie.
Nowadays Mission Control would consist of a half-dozen guys in
jeans and T shirts, sitting in front of a like number of very expensive
computers. Some of those folks might be female. Probably some venerable scientist
with a grim face – I visualize my old mineralogy professor – would be there to supervise. Meanwhile, every politician on the make would
be poised outside, speech in hand. Not
to mention the TV crews.
What
happened to the Eagle? Is it still in
orbit around the Moon? Did it crash into
the Moon’s surface to make a tiny impact crater? Or is it traipsing through the solar system,
on its way to Ultima Thule?\
‘Nuff wasted
words. Go see it for yourself.
Thanks, Kristen
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