Earlier this week–Monday to be exact–many people across the nation wrote articles in reverence to the 40th anniversary of the Apollo 11 spacecraft landing on the moon.
Here at the Brand New Cool, we like to acknowledge and commemorate the things that really matter, such as Apollo 11 not ending with the astronauts dying horribly in the airless void of outer space. On July 24th 1969, Apollo 11 had splashdown back on the good ol’ planet Earth, and I’d wager that this was a big damn deal to them at the time.
Getting back to Earth was at least as important as making it to the moon, wasn’t it? Sure, that part of it doesn’t have dramatic footage or photos being shown to the masses again and again, and the celebratory yell of “Fuck yeah! We’re alive!” probably doesn’t have the same timeless, awkwardly-worded class of “One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.” Nonetheles, July 24th, 1969 deserves to be lauded as much as July 20th, 1969–you know, the day when the mission was just half done. JFK said in ’61 that the goal should be to put men on the moon and then “return [them] safely to earth.”
I’m not in any position of authority to state this definitively, but I’m guessing that the discussion between Armstrong, Aldrin and Mission Control would’ve gone a bit differently had the goal only been to get to the moon…
NEIL ARMSTRONG: “All right, you sons of bitches. We’re here, the Eagle has landed on the moon. Now for the love of God, tell us how to get home!”
CONTROL: “Sorry Neil, couldn’t hear that last part over all the cheering and champagne bottle-poppin’ down here. Could you repeat that?”
ARMSTRONG: “You’re going to burn in hell for this, you bastards! Burn in–”
CONTROL: “Just a sec, Neil. Hold on… Hey, Mrs. Aldrin, be careful with where you’re aiming those wine corks. You almost took my eye out.”
BUZZ ALDRIN: “My wife’s there?”
CONTROL: “No Buzz, I was talking to Peggy Aldrin from space accounting. You think you’ve got a monopoly on that last name? God, what an arrogant prick.”
BUZZ: “Screw you all, you murdering bastards!”
CONTROL: “Yeah, yeah. Look guys, I’ve got to let you go. They’re about to drop the ball in Times Square to countdown your oxygen supply. Oh crap, it’s already started. Five! Four! Three…!”
So here’s to the Apollo 11 crew being brave/insane enough to fly off the freakin’ planet and fortunate enough to not still be floating aimlessly through the cosmos. Cheers, gents.
