Already tuned in to watch the first integrated test flight of Starship. I hope. As in I hope it launches and I hope it is a complete success. No matter what, a lot will be learned and it will allow SpaceX to improve and move forward. As Elon himself has noted, success is not guaranteed, but it is guaranteed to be exciting.
This has brought back a memory from one of the early shuttle launches, or at least the attempt to launch. I can’t remember which mission precisely (stupid lightning), but in those early days there were lots and lots of scrubs. Understandable, but disappointing.
Those flights attracted a lot if interesting people to the press area. James “Scotty” Doohan, who had encouraged my attempt to become an aerospace engineer, joined me and my broadcasts several times. I may not have made engineer, but he was happy at the work I did end up doing. There were “VIPs” who had the stand next to the press area, and who did often mingle when they could get away with it.
On this attempt, there was a strong literary presence in both if I remember correctly. One of them being writer Karen Anderson, the wife of Poul Anderson. I think we all had a great time talking space, science, writing, and more. Seem to recall some cheerful arguments over tech, and the common goal that we needed to get off this mudball and Shuttle was a step towards that. What next and how was a frequent topic.
I seem to recall that this scrub was one with a long delay, as in a week or more I think, and we were all a bit down. Since Karen is no longer with us, and any statute of limitations is surely past, I will admit we broke the rules.
Keep in mind NASA was (and still is I suspect) the puritanical agency. This is an agency that doesn’t even really like to admit that its astronauts have to use the bathroom (for all that they did finally embrace PR about the shuttle toilet trainers). No sex, no smoking, no drinking, no nuthin going on with them or anywhere according to NASA, and nothing fun was allowed at the press or other areas. To the point K9s were used to do random checks for pot and other delights, especially after a film crew apparently enjoyed some herb rather openly.
I remember Karen herding the group out to where her car was parked, away from the press area and all the security and snitches. Hidden (in the trunk?) was a bottle of Old Overholt rye whiskey. Put hair on your teeth and make your chest white stuff. Funny thing was, after we each took a slug, our spirits improved. We went back to things with a bit of optimism.
There are a lot of good ryes and bourbons out there, but to this day Old Overholt has a special place in my heart. Seeing a bottle often makes me smile, and makes me think of space, launches, and the people who help make it happen.
Ad Astra.