Day sucked. Horrible day. I don't consider that I accomplished anything. It's more like running in circles. By the time I left I had a headache that was screaming like a jet, lessened only mildly by a couple of Tylenol. I managed to get through dinner and a special on the Lunar Module. Then I went outside to fill the expensive new squirrel-proof bird feeder and dropped the damn thing putting it back up. James fetched it upstairs from the yard and bent the feeder cup back in place, but the spring doesn't seem to be working properly all the time. Bother.

The only saving grace to all this day has been the moon specials. The lunar landing happened just before I left work. I had forgotten, having listened to 40 years of soundbytes trimmed from broadcasts, how much static was in these transmissions! Sometimes you could hardly hear the astronauts or Capcom.

James grilled boneless pork ribs for supper, but they don't seem to have done my agitated digestion any good; despite the Prilosec everything is coming up on me. I finally did swig back three ibuprofin and covered my eyes for about 20 minutes so I could get through the rest of the moon broadcasts without feeling like someone was playing a drum solo on my sinuses. History Channel did a half-hour piece combining CBS News footage of the highlights of the Apollo 11 mission, with a memorial card to Walter Cronkite at the end.

Following is an interesting program: it's a fact-based film called Moonshot, which combines actual footage with scenes filmed with actors. James Marsters is playing Buzz Aldrin with the intensity I understand he had; the encounter after Armstrong purposely rejected an abort in the simulator is pretty similar to the one in From the Earth to the Moon.

Labels: food, history, work

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 9:20:00 PM

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