I’ve taken to sketching on my iPad. Quite likely, this is only the first of many brain dumps. You’re welcome/I’m sorry?
When I was growing up, everybody wanted to be an astronaut – including me – but then the Challenger exploded and I rethought my career goals. I still feel like that was the day my generation lost faith in NASA which is probably what led to all the funding drying up and is probably also the reason we don’t have moon colonies. Apparently most people my age are responsible adults who get asked about whether to renew funding for things. Just be glad I’m not one of them….
But still, I feel kinda bad for NASA an d really feel like I should have at least tried to help out, even if almost no one asks me to approve any kind of budget unless it’s my nephew asking me the rules for Communist Monopoly *again* — sometimes I think he just doesn’t listen.
Anyway, last night I had a bout of insomnia and I had the idea I should have had ages ago and maybe NASA wouldn’t be so sad and I wouldn’t have all this childhood guilt about moon colonies. So as my official apology to NASA, I’m offering them exclusive use of this design for all upcoming space missions. I wish I’d thought of it sooner, but my list of things about which I carry existential guilt about is quite long and. If I stayed awake long enough to solve every problem arising from 1979 onward, there’s a good chance I could be psychotic, dead or BOTH. And I don’t want to be a psychotic zombie. Really, that solution isn’t good for anyone. Do you know how hard it is to come up with a valid treatment and medication regimen for a psychotic zombie? I don’t, but I’m guessing it’s not easy. If it were easy, people would treat zombie psychosis like it’s as dangerous as the common cold. That’s clearly not the case and mental health professionals are already overworked.
So last night, I only solved NASA. I’ll try to do better in the future.
Dear NASA: Shark Rockets.