i'm not speaking to my inner 5 year old.
Forty years ago, as the both the world and my family gathered around televisions to note with silent awe the very moment Neil Armstrong took that historic step i believe i was pointing out to my parents that the wall has outlets, or possibly that doggies go "woof". Oh, i'm sure that there are others out there who likewise observed during the Kennedy assassination there was a kitty cat outside the window or in the stunning silence after Columbia exploded offered their opinions about broccoli, but those are the sorts of things that can be laughed off in later years as "childhood innocence".
No, my five year old self was a total jerk.
Why else would he, knowing full well the sort of science and space nerd i'd grow up to be, decide that the ficus was far more important to study than our species first tentative steps on another heavily body?
Oh sure, my much older and wiser six year old self offers a host of memories about later Apollo missions, but let's face it. i was late to the party at that point. Whatever memories i may have would never really replace the ones i didn't have or had brilliantly replaced with such stunning facts as "my toes taste like sour cheese".
Thanks a load, five year old me.
So, excuse me while i act a bit childish today as i watch coverage of the original landing. Well, properly childish, and watch it all sitting cross legged on the floor, grinning my fool head off. i've got a lot to make up for.
