Enough is enough

As everyone knows, I work here at the Johnson Space Center at the southeastern reaches of the hot and humid city of Houston where the motto is, "I reckon' it sure is hot and humid outside". I'm not particular proud of this fact but it's something I've learned to live with over my three and a half years working here. It's not always where you are, but who you're with and working here at NASA means I've surrounded myself with some incredibly unique and incredible people. These are the people that make me proud of what we all do here, people whose intelligence is only outweighed by their heart and dedication. We work hard here, earn less than we're worth, and put up with interminable beauracracy because we have a passion for the space industry and an overwhelming desire to get our astronauts in space and to keep them healthy. Because, really, everything thing we do here, all the procedure writing and console support, is done with the goal of making our astronauts happy. We wouldn't be anything without them and this fact is not lost on them. Of the astronauts I've had the pleasure to meet and work with, not one of them is blind to the fact that we bust our butts for them and the appreciation we get from them because of this is second to none.

As I grew up, I always had a fascination with space (like many young children) and astronauts were surely up on a pedestal in my little world. I carried that reverance throughout my life, even bringing it with me the day I started working here. It wasn't until I finally got to start working with these astronauts that an incontrovertrible truth finally dawned on me: despite the aura of mystique that surrounds them, astronauts are only human. And, like any human, they sometimes make mistakes. I'm sure by now you've all heard about one of them and I'm just appalled by the media coverage this is getting.

NASA has numerous space probes travelling through the cosmos, a space shuttle launch every three months, and a space station that has been in continuous operation for 7 years. I rarely see a mention of any of these in the evening news. I've seen astronauts pull off amazing feats performing space walks and the only mention they get is an over-exaggerated headline of a 'toxic leak' which had little effect on anyone. Sadly, the most media exposure they get is when one of them has an emotional break down and gets involved in some rather unfortunate events. It's a tragedy, really, and I'd expect the media to jump on this one, but the extent and nature of the coverage has left me even more disgusted with the news than ever before.

Although I have not had the pleasure of working with Lisa Nowak, I know she is a highly respected member of the NASA community. Why she would take this course of action everyone is still trying to figure out and no doubt the answers will come slowly and, even then, the whole story will probably only be known by a small group of people. Despite the limited amount of information that is known at this point, the media outlets are overloading the airwaves and front pages with 'coverage', basically rehashing the limited known facts repeatedly, delving into her professional career, and interviewing neighbors who, as expected, have nothing to say other than they didn't see it coming. I've seen computer generated mapped routes between Houston and Orlando, news segments dubbed 'Space Oddity', repeated reference to the diapers she wore during the car ride (interesting fact: astronauts wear them during shuttle launches and spacewalks), and that demeaning mug shot. There have been psychological profiling, endless speculation, and *gasp* shock that an astronaut could do something like this. Yes, I admit it's strange. No, not strange, unfortunate and very sad. It's never easy to see a family member (we're all part of the NASA family around here, in a non-sappy way) go through something like this but it's almost as hard seeing her name get dragged through the mud without any shred of fact being released about the case.

No doubt drama like this occurs throughout the country on a daily basis. I rarely hear about it on the news. This case is different, of course, because it involved a fall from a pedestal. Same thing would have happened if a movie star tried to pull this off. I can accept that. What really pisses me off, and this is what it comes down to, is that the only time these brave people get recognized for anything is when they mess up, as all humans are bound to do. Looks like Letterman did a top ten list on how you know if an astronaut is trying to kill you. Funny? Maybe. Appropriate? Definitely not. Leave her alone. Please.

With all that's going on in this world I would hope that Americans have more vital issues to follow than this little soap opera scenario. But that's just American society, isn't it? Forget about the war, there's some good dirt on a semi-famous person. It's the same old story. Perhaps Lisa Nowak isn't the only person guilty of bad judgement.

Had Enough Yet?

Alright. That last post hardly fulfilled my intention of filling you in on my life and all that's happened over the past four months. Sadly, it was probably the highpoint of that time period. To summarize, this is what I've been doing since October:
1) Returned to Houston from Germany
2) Flew to NY. Flew back to Houston. Saw the family in between.
3) Once again spent Christmas at work. Bah-humbug.
4) Started a Netflix subscription.
5) Flew to Denver. Flew back to Houston. Went to a conference and did some skiing in between.

My life sounds rather dull when I lay it out like this. I should also mention that I'm working the midnight shift this week and by brain is quietly shutting down as the night progresses. Those works of art you would normally expect in this blog, and a fresh posting full of mind-numbing insight, are conspicuously absent today. I'll get back to you on that one.

This is where I summarize the last four months of my life

My hand swatted at the alarm clock in a feeble attempt to turn the damn thing off. The lack of NPR emanating from the speakers told me that my aim must have been pretty good despite the early hour and complete darkness. Nothing is worse than waking up in complete darkness, which is why I like to sleep with the blinds open. If there's any sunlight to sneak its way into my bedroom I'm going to make sure my door is open for it. My body felt tired and my head was full of that sleep-induced haze which requires minutes of unconsciousness to form but hours to totally clear away. It couldn't be morning already; my brain was still aching for some rest and comfort of my bed. The clock did say 6:00 A.M., didn't it? It must have, the alarm went off and I'm awake. I think. Regardless, I'm awake now which only means it's time to jump into the everyday routine of brushing my teeth and taking a shower, maybe throw in a shave if I have to look particularly clean that day. Getting out of bed wasn't easy, room temperature never being nearly as warm as it should be and the cold linoleum of the bathroom floor as inviting as a dead fish down the pants. I know it must be done but, really, something just doesn't feel right. It's as if time itself was playing some cruel practical joke on me and managed to freeze the world so I was the only thing animated, with no hope of actually getting to my destination. Even with my mouth full of toothpaste I couldn't shake the feeling that I was out of place, that someone was watching me from a one-way mirror and having a good laugh. With toothbrush dangling from my teeth I headed back into the bedroom, where my mortal enemy the alarm clock sat on my nightstand, within screaming distance of the indentation on my pillow where my head used to be. Eyes still have closed by the cobwebs of lethargy I tried to convince myself that the clock didn't actually read 12:30 A.M. If that was true then I had no earthly reason to be brushing my teeth or, for that matter, looking at clocks. How could a clock suddenly turn back six hours and could I possibly be the luckiest person alive, having discovered I still had a few hours to rest my bones? I wasn't convinced and the evidence was puzzling at best. My brain said morning, my clock said night; a classic case of man vs. machine though this time the former had an overwhelming desire to be on the losing end. There was only one way to settling this precarious situation: best two out of three. A quick romp into the living revealed a cell phone, and a small brightly glowing LCD screen which screamed out the time in all its neon glory. 12:30 A.M.! 12:30 A.M.? Why they hell am I brushing my teeth at this time of the night! I was seconds away from jumping in the shower. If I didn't bother checking I could have been halfway to work before I realized that my morning ritual was six hours premature. Most disturbing, though, is the thought that I must have, all in my sleep mind you, 'heard' my alarm, 'hit' the off button, 'looked' at the clock, and decided that it was time to wake up and get dressed. Not my greatest accomplishment ever but certainly not the worst given my past performances.