I was huddled around the living room in a villa in Guadalajara, Mexico (served as a boarding house for students) watching the landing on television. It was the summer after my junior year in college. I was attending a five week course in Spanish (my minor). I was proud of NASA too.
I traveled home via the Ferrocarrill del Pacífico (no AC!) to Nogales where my dad and brother met me. It was hotter than Hades. They wanted to walk back to the border (train station south side) because they had paid a hefty sum for a cab. No! Using my vastly improved accent I spoke to a line of taxi drivers and we rode back for $1.75. It was an interesting summer.
I was proud of NASA too. Back in the day my bike, a resurrected standard with 20" balloon tires and only a basket on the front, and just spindles remaining from cheap pedals. Things were simpler then. It took me everywhere except when the goat heads weren't flattening my tires. @#$% goat heads!
And like you Fitz back in the day I too was young and bullett proof. I could take the heat, but not anymore. I ride the Loop on my Catrike recumbent dressed in all white riding kit. I don't want my dermatologist to retire young. Now it's getting out there early, early to be home by 1030. My hydration pack has ice and I have a Plan B: a section of cooling towel, saturated with water and put up under the front of my jersey. I'm not afraid to use it!
Thanks for your always erudite and witty descriptions... Ah, those memories. 8-)
It’s nice to be reminded of how good it was in the sixties—bikes and ice cream trucks, roller skates and astronauts. Thank you for some welcome time travel.
Fitz was probably suffereing from travel fatigue and/or the heat when he wrote that so we'll let him slide. Probably flashing back to O'Reilly Chevrolet or Monte Mansfield Ford. It's understandable. 8-)
You still hold that moment in time accurately. It is a momentous memory of a great event based on peaceful work and accomplishments. Thank you for this blog entry.
I also envy you for your Stingray and saddlebags! Also your perch for watching Barberella!
Oh man! I had a bike like that in 1969! We called it a Banana seat; didn't know it had a brand name.
I was enthralled with the space program, too. I think most of us that age were. My eldest sister had worked for NASA in that big Boeing building at Cape Canaveral as a secretary until Apollo 1 burned up on the practice launch pad. The danger was very real and intense to my ten year old mind from that point on.
Thank you for sharing what had been a momentously happy united moment after the Summer of '68, when it seemed our country would tear apart - but didn't. There is hope for us, even now.
Your last three pieces have been fabulous.....beyond comments, heartfelt and nostalgic. I grew up in NYC and it was wonderous to travel there again with you and your family.
And today's piece, older than you though I am, I remember the same sense of awe that you felt in Tucson on your bike while I was on my bus in the city of my birth.
I was huddled around the living room in a villa in Guadalajara, Mexico (served as a boarding house for students) watching the landing on television. It was the summer after my junior year in college. I was attending a five week course in Spanish (my minor). I was proud of NASA too.
I traveled home via the Ferrocarrill del Pacífico (no AC!) to Nogales where my dad and brother met me. It was hotter than Hades. They wanted to walk back to the border (train station south side) because they had paid a hefty sum for a cab. No! Using my vastly improved accent I spoke to a line of taxi drivers and we rode back for $1.75. It was an interesting summer.
I was proud of NASA too. Back in the day my bike, a resurrected standard with 20" balloon tires and only a basket on the front, and just spindles remaining from cheap pedals. Things were simpler then. It took me everywhere except when the goat heads weren't flattening my tires. @#$% goat heads!
And like you Fitz back in the day I too was young and bullett proof. I could take the heat, but not anymore. I ride the Loop on my Catrike recumbent dressed in all white riding kit. I don't want my dermatologist to retire young. Now it's getting out there early, early to be home by 1030. My hydration pack has ice and I have a Plan B: a section of cooling towel, saturated with water and put up under the front of my jersey. I'm not afraid to use it!
Thanks for your always erudite and witty descriptions... Ah, those memories. 8-)
It’s nice to be reminded of how good it was in the sixties—bikes and ice cream trucks, roller skates and astronauts. Thank you for some welcome time travel.
Umm, can't say Ford and Impala in the same sentence. Breaks all the rules.
Fitz was probably suffereing from travel fatigue and/or the heat when he wrote that so we'll let him slide. Probably flashing back to O'Reilly Chevrolet or Monte Mansfield Ford. It's understandable. 8-)
I believe our Impala was an actual antelope we took turns riding
Geez, you had all the fun. I either walked or rode my clunker of a bicycle. You were a privileged kid.
You still hold that moment in time accurately. It is a momentous memory of a great event based on peaceful work and accomplishments. Thank you for this blog entry.
I also envy you for your Stingray and saddlebags! Also your perch for watching Barberella!
Most of us remember where we were when tragedies occurred. Thanks for bringing back a happy memory of “where were you when you heard”
Excellent, Fitz - thanks!
Ford impala?
These days all that Stingray bicycle needs is a nice little motor.
Oh man! I had a bike like that in 1969! We called it a Banana seat; didn't know it had a brand name.
I was enthralled with the space program, too. I think most of us that age were. My eldest sister had worked for NASA in that big Boeing building at Cape Canaveral as a secretary until Apollo 1 burned up on the practice launch pad. The danger was very real and intense to my ten year old mind from that point on.
Thank you for sharing what had been a momentously happy united moment after the Summer of '68, when it seemed our country would tear apart - but didn't. There is hope for us, even now.
Your last three pieces have been fabulous.....beyond comments, heartfelt and nostalgic. I grew up in NYC and it was wonderous to travel there again with you and your family.
And today's piece, older than you though I am, I remember the same sense of awe that you felt in Tucson on your bike while I was on my bus in the city of my birth.
Thank you......