Friday, January 19, 2007

Where no Liza will ever go.

I've been a sci-fi junkie for as long as I can remember. Is it my mother's fault? Most likely, the woman took me to see Star Wars when I was less than 6 months old. It's a passion and I love it all.
But here is a fact. If civilian space travel happens within my lifetime, I would not be on board. It's not space that bothers me, it is what is required to burst through Earth's atmosphere and into space that I wouldn't like.
Imagine traveling super fast as far up as you can go, far away with all the mountains, and every big thing shrinking to the size of pea. You'd leave everything you'd know and love behind. Now imagine your space ship breaks and you fall all that distance back to the earth. Dying of a heart attack before you even touch the ground.
You see, it's the falling that is the bad bit; the part that scares me right out of my pants. Maybe it's the knowledge that you're falling, I don't know. I imagine while you're falling, you are aware of it. You are aware you are falling from really far up and you have the opportunity to know you're going to die, but are powerless to stop it. Ooh, that's terrible. It impacts how I feel about a great many things.
I hate being on top of the Sears Tower. Mountains, elevators, and airplanes fill me with such dread. I am fine once the plane is cruising, but the take off and landing make me almost sick to my stomache. I can't imagine that I'll ever find myself living or working higher than the eighth floor of any building.
So I'll leave space travel to the Han Solo's an Mal Reynolds and keep my feet firmly on the ground.
Image from CNN.

1 comment:

La Sirena said...

You might be aware, but it wouldn't be scary. You'd remember all of the love and beauty that is your life and your heart would swell with it and then you just walk right through that next door. But it shouldn't even come up for about 60 or more years.

Not that I'm asking you to go jump in the Millenium Falcon or anything.