Wednesday, May 01, 2013


"What was his name, Mom?"

Sideways look shot from my place over the sizzling French toast...

"Oh," he says, "the guy, you know? That guy who jumped from space?" gesturing skyward wildly with his hand like the good mini-me he is.

My eyes dart towards the upper lefthand corner of my sockets, clearly indicating I am stretching my 43-yr-old brain to try and uncover that little tidbit of info I used to be able to recall at the drop of a hat for a good Friday night trivia game, even after a couple of glasses of wine, but now can only seem to use tp form the best possible SEO sentence to plug into the googler.

"guy who jumped from space"

The results of which then sent me unexpectedly into tears for the next 10 minutes as I read him the whole story about how an 84-yr-old retired Air Force Colonel, Joe Kittinger, was essentially Felix Baumgartner's mission control and Jiminy Cricket, talking him thru some seriously intense moments on the way up as well as down, including an outer stratosphere out-of-control spin that nearly killed the very same Colonel a half century before.

And by the time I read about how the Austrian daredevil stood at the edge of his capsule, saluted, and marveled at feeling so very small standing there looking out over the entire world, I was literally heaving.

He plummeted at over 833 mph, released his parachute 1000 miles above New Mexico, and landed on his own two feet.

The data his crew of scientists and engineers were able to compile will be used for years to come, and only open up wider the inevitability of tourist space travel. And THAT idea just makes every hair on my body stand on end. Can you imagine? It would be like standing next to the first successful open-heart surgery. To be able to experience that, to feel that sense of hugeness and smallness at the same time, to actually be taking steps forward and beyond and into the infinite...

I was just a big bawling mess at the breakfast table this morning.

So...I'm either pregnant, which isn't really gonna happen without my research, order form, and signature of the FedEx delivery of the nitro tank, or I'm just pms'ing...