I was in grade school. I sat in front of this giant piece of wooden-clad furniture that we called a TV, on a pillow on the floor with our hunting dog laying besides me. School was out and nothing else in the world, or space, mattered.
We had hoped, and prayed, that the crazy test pilots (astronauts) and the enormous group of engineers and scientists could pull this off. Nobody cared that they were white, predominantly married men, and that a smoky haze filled Mission control.
Back then, ■■■■ did not matter. Accomplishment did.
As a young boy, I hated that it took so long between landing and cracking the hatch and putting a boot on the moon. My parents must have let me stay up to watch it. I don’t remember that, but I remember seeing that America put an American on the Moon.
It was only later in my advanced education that I figured out that this was JFK’s version of RWR’s SDI. Pushing technology forward, to show the Soviets that they could not match our pace, innovation, and economic system that funded it all.
It was a welcome return to American Exceptionalism, from the 1968 Hippies, controlled by Yippies, rioting just south of us in Chicago.
Anyone who wishes to dispute “American Exceptionalism”, please cite other nations to land 'nauts on the moon and return them alive…
And as I told my kids to punctuate this achievement.
So, we Americans landed men on the moon, what do we do next? Our Astronauts walked around, well hell we can’t have that, we’re Americans; they need a car. So we sent a “car” to the “moon.”
Let that sink in: America sent a car to the moon.
America: We sent men to the moon, with cars, because we could!!, because America is exceptional. No emotional support iguanas, no pink hair, no gender wierdness, no blah, blah, blah.
There are exceptional American cars on the moon, right now.
There, I said it. Thank me very much.