Winding Down

Earlier this morning, the connecting hatches between shuttle Atlantis and the International Space Station closed for the last time.

I know I keep writing variations on the same theme, “last this” and “final that,” and it’s probably starting to get a bit tedious for Readers who don’t share my fascination with human spaceflight. But please understand that I have to do this. Each and every one of these landmarks is important. We need to mark them, because these last two weeks are the closing words of a chapter in a future history book. And very possibly, they’re the end of several generations’ dreams as well. I’m trying to be optimistic about the future of the space program, I really am. I know of four separate private-industry groups that are working on manned vehicles capable of reaching low-earth orbit, including one spaceplane that’s designed to land on a runway like the shuttle, and there are probably more I don’t know about. But with news that Congress is looking to cut NASA‘s annual budget — which, by the way, is not the outrageously high percentage of the federal budget most people believe it is, but is in fact smaller than the amount we’re spending every year to air-condition military tent cities in Afghanistan — as well as rumblings that some folks want to deorbit the just-barely-finished station as soon as 2015… with a cultural zeitgeist that no longer seems to have much interest in the Final Frontier, and a nagging, dread-filled sense that the whole damn country is falling apart while we surf for porn on the InterWebs… well, it’s hard to keep telling myself the United States is going to be launching people into space again anytime soon, let alone going back to deep space. American robots, maybe… but actual Americans? I just don’t know anymore. Once upon a time, I thought it was simply, logically inevitable that human beings — Americans, to be precise — would explore and settle and spread out across space. It seemed as natural a progression to me as manifest destiny must’ve seemed to people in the 19th century. And of course, I figured the progression would never falter, but just keep going ever higher, ever farther. But now I’m wondering, with a big tablespoon of bitter disappointment, if perhaps these ideas were only the naive thinking of a kid who watched too much Star Trek and was dumb enough to believe.

Before the crew of Atlantis returned to their ship for good this morning, they assembled with the crew of the ISS for a little ceremony, in which the station commander was formally presented with a model of a shuttle orbiter and a small American flag. The model will stand in for a more impressive monument, commemorating the winged spacecraft that assembled the outpost in space. It was immediately mounted on a bulkhead alongside the forward hatch in the station module known as Node 2, where 35 shuttle missions have docked. The flag, meanwhile, is something of a sacred NASA artifact. It flew with astronauts John Young and Robert Crippen on board shuttle Columbia during the very first mission, STS-1, 30 years ago. It will now live on the ISS, fastened to the Node 2 hatch cover itself, with the idea that it will remain there until the next American crew on board an American spacecraft comes up to retrieve it. And then if all goes well, it will fly again the next time a manned American spacecraft ventures beyond low Earth orbit, bound for the moon, or Mars, or the asteroids.

I only hope that it’s not still there, forgotten, when the ISS comes back down to Earth…

Atlantis is scheduled to undock shortly after midnight tonight, Mountain time.

Jul162011

About that John Carter Trailer…

The trailer for Pixar’s adaptation of Edgar Rice Burroughs’ classic Barsoom stories, John Carter, made its online debut two days ago, so probably everybody and their cat has seen it by now, but just in case you haven’t:

I’m very, very pleased and excited by what I’m seeing here. Oh, I could quibble about some of the details. I don’t remember any magic blue glowing rocks from the books (although it has been decades since I’ve read them, so maybe they’ve just slipped my mind), and the airships of Helium are far different than I imagined them (which was pretty much like Jabba’s sail barge in Return of the Jedi), and Tars Tarkas (the green guy at about 1:09) is neither as tall nor as buff as he ought to be… but I don’t want to be another damn Comic Book Guy griping about an otherwise enjoyable movie because it doesn’t take into account the critical events of issue #327 or whatever. The fact is, this trailer is showing a lot more things that are faithful to the books than not: the opening scenes with Edgar Rice Burroughs himself as a character; John Carter’s origins as a Confederate veteran and a cowboy; Barsoom being a dying planet kept alive by great machines; Carter’s ability to make superhuman leaps (Mars has lower gravity than Earth, so his Earth-trained muscles are more powerful there); and most of all, the grandeur and brutality of an alien word populated by ancient, decadent civilizations. And even if Dejah Thoris isn’t walking around mostly naked as she was described in the books, the costumes nevertheless look right. Consider, for example, the harness and breast plate Carter is wearing in some scenes, and then look at Michael Whelan’s definitive cover art from the 1970s paperback edition of A Princess of Mars (i.e., the one that I read as a kid). Based on this trailer, at least, the people behind the movie get it. They understand what was cool in the books, what appealed to the 12-year-old boys who loved them. And if they had to change some details to match modern sensibilities — remember, A Princess of Mars was first published in 1912, a full century ago — well, I’d rather they get the overall spirit right than make a slavish but lifeless adaptation, or one that rips off a few key ideas and bears no real resemblance to the source material.

I’ve been cautiously optimistic up until now. Now I’m downright giddy… I want to see this in a way that very few movies of the past few years have appealed to me…

Jul162011

Amazing Restoration Job

You’d never know it based on my recent posting habits, but believe it or not, I really am interested in things other than space shuttles. No, really! I’m serious… stop laughing! I’m interested in all sorts of things! There’s movies and old cars and pin-up art and Googie architecture and neon signs and toys and travel and animals and historical subjects of all kinds… And I’m positively fascinated by old photographs. I love looking at them, even photos of people I don’t know or have no real connection to. To invoke a cliche’d idea, the images are like windows to the past, and if you stare long enough and hard enough, you start to feel as if you can slip right through them and enter that other time, talk to these long-dead people, and generally experience… some place else.

The problem with old photos is that they’re often in pretty bad condition: dirty, scratched, faded… sometimes, in the case of paper prints, they’ve been creased or stained, or they’re missing pieces. And all that of course makes it difficult to see the very details that are so fascinating. Fortunately, technology has made restoring old photos much easier. Even laypeople with consumer-level equipment can do things with images that would’ve been downright impossible only a few years ago. And if you put a professional on the job, the results can be nothing short of astounding.

Consider, for example, this before-and-after comparison:

The image on the left is a tintype, a photo printed on a thin sheet of metal, dating to the 1870s. The image on the right is the restored version. The restoration brought back so much detail that the photo’s owner can now date it using the wedding ring on her ancestor’s hand — a ring that was virtually invisible in the original, discolored version.

It’s no secret that I am somewhat uncomfortable with many aspects of our modern digital age, and especially with the ease with which movies and photographs can be altered. You can no longer trust that what you’re seeing is what was originally captured, and images no longer have a sense of permanence… although I suppose you could argue they were never permanent anyway, considering what simple time did to that tintype. But in any event, this sort of restoration is one aspect of digital technology that I am completely onboard with. I just hope the owner of that image above kept the original tintype as well; the actual artifact is as important as the image, in my opinion, as much a link with the past. Perhaps moreso, since it is the traveler that’s brought the image down through the years.

You can read the full details of this restoration here, if you’re interested, and check out some of this man’s other restoration work here. Simply amazing stuff…

Oh, on a somewhat related note (in the sense of old photography), did you hear about the lost Charlie Chaplin film purchased in a UK junk shop last week for the equivalent of about five bucks? The movie is a propaganda piece from 1917 called Zepped — it was apparently intended to calm Londoners’ fears of zeppelin attacks during World War I — and there’s only one other known copy of it. It never fails to astound me when stuff like this turns up in such prosaic settings.You never know what’s out there hiding in people’s attics and garages, and oftentimes, they don’t know either. You can read about the find here, and more about Zepped here.

Attribution where it’s due: I found the tintype restoration story via Boing Boing.

Jul132011

A Sad Sight…

That’s space shuttle Discovery, now stripped of her three main engines as well as the distinctive orbital maneuvering system (OMS) pods that used to flank her vertical stabilizer. She’ll be fitted out with dummy engines before she goes on display at the National Air and Space Museum in Washington, DC, but for now, she’s looking pretty shabby and weirdly deformed without those pods. And I’ll be honest, the thought of her without her engines, the burning heart of a rocket ship… well, comparisons to taxidermy are not inappropriate, in my mind. You can admire the form and colors of a stuffed bird, but its vitality, the thing that made it truly beautiful, is gone forever.

This photo, taken yesterday, shows Discovery being moved out of a hanger known in NASA-speak as Orbiter Processing Facility 2 to make room for Atlantis when she comes home next week. Endeavour, meanwhile, is in Orbiter Processing Facility 1, having her various fuel tanks drained. A few weeks from now, both she and Atlantis will look like Discovery as all three surviving orbiters undergo their decommissioning and become butterflies on a pin.

If you haven’t heard, Atlantis‘ mission has been been extended by one day. She’s now scheduled to land on July 21, a week from tomorrow, at 5:56 AM Eastern. Which will be the wee dark hours here in the Mountain zone. I’m debating over trying to get up (or just stay up) to see it live…

Jul122011

I Must Be a Royal Boob

First, I got choked up over the video from the close-out crew, now I’m actually a little moist-eyed over this:

That’s a composite photo of a guy named Chris Bray and his father attending the first and last shuttle launches, three decades apart. Or, as he called it, “The picture we waited 30 years to complete.” What an amazing honor it must’ve been for him to be present at not just one but two such historic events, to be able to say you bookended an era. And to be able to experience both events with your dad… well, I’m not too proud to admit that I envy this guy.

My father and I have never been what most people would consider close. We’ve had our moments, like those times I rode along with him when he was driving truck, and more recently in the mornings, when he’s gotten in the habit of dropping by my house with a cup of coffee before I leave for work, but for the most part, we’ve just never clicked in that Hallmark Channel kind of way. I don’t blame him for that. The culprit was more a matter of circumstance than anything. When I was a young schoolboy, he worked afternoon shifts from 2 to 11, so he rarely got to see me while I was awake. And later, when I started to grow up, we just seemed to lock horns over damn near everything. My mom’s theory is that our respective temperaments were too much alike, and we both wanted to be the alpha. Which I suppose is probably true.

But one thing we’ve always shared is an interest in the space program, especially the hardware. Back in the early days of the shuttle program, when the orbiters were landing at Edwards Air Force Base in California, Dad used to suggest we load up the camper and take a family road trip down there to see one. And then the primary landing site shifted to Florida, which made the logistics of attending a landing far more difficult, and we stopped talking about it so much. And now the program is just a heartbeat from being over, and it’s too late. We missed our chance, just never got around around to doing it, and I really wish we had. I suspect there are a lot of fathers and sons out there who could tell a similar story.

I wonder if Chris Bray appreciates what he and his dad managed to pull off. For his sake, I hope he does.

Via.

Jul102011

Poetry in Motion

Atlantis made its “backflip” maneuver earlier this morning, allowing the crew in the International Space Station to take high-resolution photos of her belly to check for any damage to the heat-shield tiles. The actual Rendezvous Pitch Maneuver, its formal name, takes about nine minutes. Here’s a time-lapsed version:

The RPM was instituted, of course, following the Columbia disaster, when a damaged section along Columbia‘s leading wing edge allowed superhot plasma generated during re-entry to melt delicate systems and structures inside the wing. So there is a certain grim overtone to the proceedings. But it is nevertheless a beautiful sight, like a woman turning 360 degrees to show off her new dress. But once again, the voice of Mission Control reminds us… this is the last time this woman will ever show off for us. Savor every moment with her, because soon she’ll be gone.

Atlantis docked with the station at 11:07 EDT, about one hour after this maneuver began, and the hatches between them were opened at 12:47, only about 10 minutes ago as of the time of this writing. If you’re keeping track of the trivia, this
is the 12th time Atlantis has docked with the ISS, and the 46th
time a space shuttle has docked to any space station. Nine of those occasions were to Russia’s old Mir station, 37
to the ISS.

And now I think it’s time for breakfast…I really should have eaten before I went down the rabbit-hole of mission updates and related videos!

Jul082011

Friday Evening Videos: “Countdown”

Given the events of this morning, I think there’s really only one possible song I can post tonight:

Ah, Rush. The Canadian prog-rock so beloved of nerdy, intellectual fourteen-year-old boys and Ayn Rand fans (often the same people, now that I think about it). And also, weirdly, by the mullet-and-muscle-car set I used to hang on the fringes of. I was never a huge fan of these guys — a greatest-hits compilation is all the Rush I require, thank you, and then I really only like about two-thirds of the songs on the disc — but this particular song raises the hair on my arms. The throbbing synthesizer is very 1981, but also very dramatic and futuristic… at least in terms of how we used to imagine the future. Nobody in ’81 anticipated Auto-Tune. I’ll happily take the synths over that thing.

Anyhow, this song was obviously inspired by STS-01, the first shuttle flight made by the lost Columbia. The voices you hear layered over the music — part of what makes the song so awesome, in my opinion — are the real thing, taken directly from the tapes of that historic launch. And all the non-Rush clips in this video are authentic to the first flight as well. If nothing else, this song and video should demonstrate just how prominent the early days of the shuttle program were in the North American zeitgeist, as reflected by our pop culture. People were excited about the shuttles back then. It’s sometimes easy to forget just how excited. There was so much hope and optimism about where we were going, so much national pride generated by our achievements in space. Healthy, non-militaristic, non-jingoistic, non-partisan pride, I might add. The ’80s usually don’t seem that distant to me; I can clearly remember so many of the textures of everyday life back then. But tonight… well, things have changed so much in this country that the ’80s may as well have happened in the Cretaceous Era.

And now, to bed, I think. It’s been a long damn day. But first, maybe I’ll just click over to NASA TV and watch a few minutes of the earth slipping by beneath Atlantis on the live feed… so peaceful… Goodnight, kids…

Jul082011

A Sentimental Journey into History

Photo Credit: (NASA/Dick Clark)

“A sentimental journey into history.” That’s what the Houston flight controller called it as Atlantis soared into a clearing sky laced with thin, patchy clouds this morning. In the end, the weather that had everyone worried last night caused only a slight delay, a couple of minutes, and the shuttle lifted off at 11:29 Eastern time. I missed seeing it live, as I feared I would. Stupid commute. I’ve been feeling vaguely guilty about it all day, as silly as that sounds. But you know, I saw the very first launch live. I was late for school that day so I could see it. I guess I feel like I should’ve done the same to honor the final launch as well. To bring everything properly full circle. But duty called, and like a good little corporate drone, I obeyed. Needless to say, my heart wasn’t really into looking for misplaced commas today.

Fortunately, the Internet provides in a way that Walter Cronkite never could, so I’ve been able to watch the replay, at least. If you didn’t see it live yourself, you can catch the full 10-minute clip, covering main-engine start to external tank sep, here. Some of those “POV” videos in the past have been pretty washed out and uninteresting, but this one is superb, especially right at the end when the orbiter is getting ready to drop the external tank. The lighting is perfect; you can make out every tile on the shuttle’s belly, every ridge on surface of the tank. You can even see a bolt sliding open on the tank’s forward mounting bracket at the moment of separation. Truly magnificent.

Jul072011

Threatening Skies…

This somewhat ominous photo of Launch Pad 39A was taken earlier today:

As I mentioned in the previous entry, these storm clouds have had the NASA powers-that-be a little nervous about whether to postpone the final launch tomorrow. Lightning is the big concern; it’s already struck twice in the vicinity of the pad complex, once on a water tower 515 feet away from the pad, and again on a nearby beach, but the engineering teams have since determined no shuttle or pad systems were damaged, and last I heard, the countdown was still running. Atlantis is set to go as scheduled tomorrow morning at 11:26 EDT. That’ll be 9:26 my time; I’ll still be on my train at that point, so I’ll miss seeing the launch live. I’m a little unhappy about that… I may have to adjust my routine so I can get in front of a TV or computer for the big event. I was watching the very first launch live 30 years ago; it seems only fitting that I do the same with the last one.

Photo source: Kennedy Space Center’s official Facebook page.

Jul072011

Space Shuttle Pic of the Day: There’s Something Different Here…

An iconic shot of Columbia standing on the pad prior to its launch on the first-ever shuttle mission, STS-01, in April of 1981. Notice anything different about the Columbia‘s appearance compared to more recent shuttle stacks?

The external fuel tank was only painted white for the first two missions before the engineers realized they could save several hundred pounds in weight by leaving it off. The more familiar orange coloration is the natural appearance of the spray-on insulation that coats the tanks. It’s funny, though… the painted tank was only used for two out of 135 missions, and 30 years ago to boot, but this is how I imagine space shuttles — spaceships in general, really — ought to look: clean and white, sparkling beneath the sun (or the floodlights, as the case may be). In fact, I was kind of hoping the paint might make a return for the final launch, just to bring everything full circle, but I suppose engineers aren’t as sentimental about such things.

Incidentally, it’s starting to look as if the final launch might be delayed. The forecasts are showing only a 30% possibility of favorable weather tomorrow, and I’ve just read of a lightning strike this morning within a third of a mile of the pad, which may have damaged Atlantis or the equipment around the pad itself…

Photo source.

Archives