The Northward Contrail

Christmas

The great day is finally here.  Whatever you celebrate, and however you celebrate it, may the best wishes of the season be yours.

In the beginning

In lieu of new content today, I'd rather you revisit a great moment from 41 years ago tonight.  Time will not diminish its situational eloquence.

Tomorrowland

A few weeks ago I treated myself to the "Tomorrowland" DVD set.  I'm slowly working my way through it, and am I enjoying it.

 If you're interested in the history of space flight, especially the American efforts, you really can't discount the influence of the "Tomorrowland" series on space flight, or the Collier's Magazine series that preceded it.  Both were big, beautiful expressions of a future in space.  The "Tomorrowland" programs aren't exactly like the Collier's pieces -- there were changes for technical and legal reasons, among others -- but you see the concepts brought to life on the screen, through animation and live-action footage.  There's also expert testimony on rocket science, space medicine and spacecraft design from Willy Ley, Heinz Haber and Wernher von Braun. 

Watching these programs, you think about how they'd never get on the air today.  A good bit of the introductory portions of the programs is hosted by producer/director Ward Kimball, who looks like an older Scott Adsit and speaks in plain, patient, almost teacher-like tones.  The three experts all have accents of varying thicknesses and speak haltingly at points.  Nowadays, they'd be relegated to sound bites, with their main points made by a narrator.  In these programs, they're allowed to speak at length. 

(Of course, there's also the issue of von Braun, our space program's own Faustian tale.  In the "Man in Space" feature, there's brief coverage of the German rocket program and how it culminated in the V-2.  No real mention is made, of course, on the V-2's wartime implications.  But, I digress.)

For the space historian, it's great to see these people come to life on the screen.  They're no longer names in a history book; there's Willy Ley talking about rockets, and Uncle Wernher talking about how a flight to the moon would unfold and sharing a vision of a space plane that's roughly like what became the Space Shuttle.  And from a viewing standpoint, it's a treat.  The production values are so good that it's easy to forget these were films made for television.  Yeah, you can tell they're done with models, but I prefer models anyway.  CGI bores me to tears.  Models have the virtue of being real.  There's also some gorgeous animation done with a lot of wit and style, too.
 
Then there's the dream, compared to what happened.  These films show the dreams of 1955 and 1956, and talk of space flight as something that could be achieved within the next decade.  But we know what happened in 1957 and 1958, and how people first flew in space in 1961.  Indeed, while von Braun talks of a voyage to the Moon in 1955, within a few years he'd be overseeing the development of the Saturn rockets that would propel Americans to the first real-life lunar voyages, following a flight plan that didn't differ that dramatically from those he outlined on the Disney series.

Within 15 years, Americans would have flown around the moon and landed multiple times.  The dream that electrified the viewing audience of 1955 would, by 1970, become commonplace, and by the time of Apollo 17, the television networks would devote little, if any, time to the last flight to the Moon.  The real flights to the Moon were, for the most part (and with the obvious exception of Apollo 13), mostly devoid of the tension and drama you see in the Disney versions.  It looked so dramatic and glamorous in the Disney telling; in real life, it was up to 12 days in tiny spacecraft for a group of guys, eating from tubes, pooping in plastic bags, and after splashdown, frogmen reeling when they opened the hatch and the smell from inside hit them in the face.   

I'm glad we went to the Moon, and I can't wait for our return.  The ways we actually got there worked fantastically.  But when you see the vision of tomorrow that existed yesterday, you really wish that today didn't end up being so much like yesterday.  I love that we have iPods and digital cameras and Trivection ovens and cars with built-in hard drives to hold MP3s, and it's a great time for gadgets in general.  But, man, I'd trade a lot of that in a second if the vision of 1955 could have become the reality of 2010.

For whom the blog rolls

We had some time the other day for movies, and we watched Julie and Julia.  If you haven't seen it, you really owe it to yourself; it's a delightful movie, and Meryl Streep could not have better inhabited the role of Julia Child.  (And the scenes with Jane Lynch as Julia's sister are nothing short of a hoot.)

The premise of the story, based on something that actually happened, is that a young woman decides to cook her way through Julia Child's cookbook in 365 days, and she writes about her experiences in a blog that steadily gets a following and media attention.  Throughout, there's her wish that she could meet Julia Child, and her wondering if the great one had read her blog.  (I'll leave it at that so I won't spoil the story, if you don't know the outcome.)

I watched this film with delight, of course, but I also watched it from the standpoint of someone who keeps an online journal.  Unlike Julie's, mine doesn't chronicle an ongoing adventure or project (unless you count "living one's life" as an ongoing adventure or project).  There's really no mission here, as you've probably noticed.  I have thought it would be great to have an ongoing project I could chronicle and share online, because it's neat to check in on projects and watch progress be made.  Once upon a time, I meant to do that with my flying lessons, but you know what happened there.  I could do it with my models and gadgetry.  But, there, you run into the same problem I have with the projects I do in the workshop: I work on them at a glacial pace, and I really hate having to stop at certain points to take pictures, and then download them from the camera, Photoshop them...you get the idea. 

And, aside from that, none of the projects I do are really that interesting.  There's only so many posts, for instance, you can get out of degreasing and cleaning a surplus Enfield.  Once you've cleaned and refinished one, they're all pretty much the same after that.  Could I do the same with a Selectric?  Well, I could sure take it apart, but getting it back together and working properly again...let's not talk about that.

For whom do I write the blog?  For me.  I know there's a few folks who read it (even a famous person or two have stopped in), and I appreciate it, and I hope they get something out of it, even if nothing more than an occasional laugh (for the right reasons, I hope).  But, if no one else but me ever read it, I'd still do this.  It's good for me.  It helps me keep my writing skills at work.  It also lets me get some thoughts and feelings out that I couldn't easily get out elsewhere.  (Few things are less romantic than a quiet evening at home in which I turn to hubby and say, "I had the greatest day cleaning my Selectric II today."  Yeah.) 

Would the Julie Powell thing be interesting if it happened to me?  Perhaps.  I'd love a book deal, for one thing, even though I really have nothing worth putting in a book (though Heaven knows we could use the money).  But, even if the blog remains forever the way it is now, I'm happy.  I have enough going on to be content, and I like having my own editorial direction.  It's one place where I know I'm in charge, and I like that.  

"Mr. Goodwrench Builds His Dream House," produced by me

Taking the car in for service today.  Early, too.  They need the car the whole day, and a lot of work needs to be done since it's a 100,000-mile checkup.  It ain't gonna be cheap, either.  But I'd rather get it done, because even if it costs a lot of money and time, it's the same feeling you get after a lot of dental work or a rigorous physical exam.  You come out of it knowing it's been looked at and worked on, and it's one less thing to worry about.

Anyhow, wish me luck that no unexpected issues are lurking.  See you tomorrow.