Sunday January 18th. Kennedy Space Center. Years ago, before kids, Peter and I had stayed at a real flea bag hotel in Kissimmee to visit WDW, Sea World and see a Space Shuttle launch. The launch was scrapped the first day, so we took the tour of the Center. We got up early the next morning, drove to Canaveral, waiting for the launch, scrubbed again. The third morning, after tearing around WDW and staying late at the Adventurers club, we slept through our alarm and rose just in time to turn on the TV and watch the Shuttle take off, bummer. There would be no launch on this trip. At the rate the Shuttles are aging, there might not be many more. We wanted the kids to see Kennedy Center this trip, finally they might be old enough to appreciate it, and connect the place with future launches.
I did another load of laundry. The day was sort of sunny, but rain clouds were in the distance. We drive toward the causeway and see familiar smoke stacks in the distance. We turn into the port and there is the Wonder at dock. We drive past slowly, snapping a bunch of pictures. It is that time that all the past cruisers have long gone, but few new ones have arrived. There is no one to look at and say jealously: Ohhh they are just starting their cruise. The plan was to visit Merritt Island refuge, but it started to rain as we were driving, so we headed for the Space Center. I thought it would be a nightmare there, since it was a three day weekend and we had read that WDW was booked solid. But we arrived, fairly late in the morning, to a nearly empty parking lot. What do you Floridians do on a three day week-end?
The Center has vastly improved since our last visit, but the lousy food has remained the same. You cannot bring in coolers or certain types of food. What, no tuna sandwiches? Security is pretty tight, the process pretty similar to getting a wheelchair and all your other stuff through airport security. We headed for the bus tour and waited. Seems like it takes a long time to get busses around for loading. I can see why this place is a nightmare when it is crowded. They took Gmas wheelchair to a holding area, assuring us there would be loaners at each stop. Another group seemed to be pretty upset about this arrangement. The folks who load the busses could use better communications skills about what is expected.
We boarded the bus. There is a video that shows while you are riding, with the bus drivers trying to point out wildlife as you go. We saw an eagles nest, a small alligator and lots of armadillos. The first stop is near the VAB (Vehicle Assembly Building). This is a huge structure that was used for the Titan series and is now used to attach the Shuttles to their rockets. The top of the building was obscured by clouds, that is how tall this thing is. There is a painting of a flag on it, done for the Bicentennial and each stripe is as wide as a truck road. There is a film detailing how the shuttle is moved to the buildings, rockets attached to the shuttle in the VAB, then how it is moved and manipulated on the launch pad. After the film, there is a working model of the launch pads and a small interactive kiosk. This stop also has an observation tower, where you get a wide view of the VAB and launch sites. There is junk food for sale here, and pelleted ice cream (forget what it is called). Very pricey, over $11 for a couple of doughy pretzels and a bag of chips to stem off our hunger. Back on the bus.
This leg has the video running again, detailing what animals live in the area. The next stop is a large building housing a Titan rocket, one of the three never used for an Apollo launch. There is more junk food for sale and a shop. We watch one film on Apollo, and then are escorted into a room containing the original control desks of the launch team with a presentation of a launch. I remember this display, it is now housed in a less-utilitarian setting, kudos to the designers. There is another theater, sit-down this time, with films and rising and falling displays of the moon landing, the LEM highlighted against a starry black sky. The kids were very taken with this. It tugs at your patriotic heart strings, but left me feeling saddened.
I grew up in the days where every launch from Canaveral meant a trip to watch every second of the countdown in the school gym on a tiny black-and-white TV, barely containing your excitement. I remember the space landings, my mother making us go outside to look up at the moon and try and fathom that a man was walking there, right this very second. I remember Apollo 13, standing transfixed in front of a department store TV display as news of the peril of Lovell, Swigart and Haise was broadcast to the world, and again looking up at the moon that night and feeling fear. Now NASA has a budget many times that of the NIH. And yet, at my kids school, the Title I teacher walks the hall with micro-waved noodles to feed students who have come to school without any breakfast or lunch. She needs to fill the stomachs of fifth graders so they can concentrate, students who have come to the school still not able to read. Here are my cornucopia kids at WDW, after a Magic Cruise and seeing places where we blasted off for the moon. How I wish we could go to Mars. How I wish no child was hungry. I vow to dig up copies of the movies October Sky, The Dish, Space Cowboys and The Right Stuff and make my kids watch them, while they are still innocent enough not to weigh the cost of these programs against the needs of their less fortunate classmates, and world-mates.
Back to Kennedy and Earth. We get back on the bus and return to the main complex. We look at the rocket displays and watch one of the Imax films, the shuttle scenes filled with the smiling images of Astronauts who died. We get the heck out of there and check out the shops to cheer ourselves up. We walk up to the memorial, very sobering, but I wish there was more personal information about the names on this huge black wall. Most are familiar and I know the circumstances of their deaths. But some are not. How did this person die? Did they have a family? Is the family O.K.?
We stop and listen to a question and answer session by Mark Lee. I feel bad that I had to come home to look up his accomplishments, three Shuttle trips and much more. Astronauts are not our everyday heroes, now. We know more about obscure rock stars then people who altruistically yearn for the stars. There is one young woman in the audience who wants to be an astronaut, shes so excited just to get her picture taken with Mark Lee. She is a biologist, will they take her? It is nice to see that there are still young, enthusiastic people who want to go to space, heck with the danger. I try to convince my kids to get a picture, they are too shy, or I guess they do not realize that this person HAS touched the sky.
We go through some static displays, the kids are losing focus rapidly. We look for something to check the status of the Mars rover landings, (one successful, at least today, still), Europes not. There is only one small panel with a few pictures talking about the FUTURE landing. With food at such outrageous prices at this franchise, you would think they would have enough money to pop for a computer that would let you log onto the live site, you can do it from home. There is more information to be had by listening to NPR than visiting Kennedy Space Center.
We leave the Center, pretty quiet and tired. As we drive down the deserted road, a bobcat crosses our path, we barely see him before he is gone. What a remarkable place this area is, rockets to the moon and animals, still here, that called this home long before we invaded.
The weather has cleared this afternoon, we are hungry. As we cross the causeway heading back to Cocoa beach we can see the Wonder moving down the channel. We stop for dinner at the Sunset Waterfront Café and Bar, mentioned somewhere on Daves site? or the DIS?. Another funky place. It has tables on the Banana River, protected tables on a deck and an inside area, deathly quiet, occupied by two lone seniors at one table. We opt for the covered deck. Live band, lots of renditions of things my husband and I remembered, Fleetwood Mac and Janis Joplin and like ilk. We watch the sunset and eat more salad, fish and carbohydrates. I have crab cakes, thinking that for the cheap price I will get a couple of small ones. These things are the size of Frisbees, I can only eat one. Peter takes care of the other one. Pretty good food, decent price, marginal wine. Lots of cute servers in tiny t-shirts and short-shorts. The guys must love this place.
Back to the resort. I do another load of laundry. A visit to the pool for all. There is a hot tub on the deck above the parking, stairs lead from the pool. We enjoy our lofty perch and look over at the Hilton. I can see why folks trash this place. It is a very unattractive block, nice location on the beach but few of the rooms even look toward it. We relish that we are here and not there. Thanks Dave. I do another load of laundry. To bed after another sit on the balcony and a look through the binoculars at the fishing boats.
Tomorrow, Merritt Island Wildlife refuge.
Now I'm no longer Tink, the pixie dust gone, just
Carla
I did another load of laundry. The day was sort of sunny, but rain clouds were in the distance. We drive toward the causeway and see familiar smoke stacks in the distance. We turn into the port and there is the Wonder at dock. We drive past slowly, snapping a bunch of pictures. It is that time that all the past cruisers have long gone, but few new ones have arrived. There is no one to look at and say jealously: Ohhh they are just starting their cruise. The plan was to visit Merritt Island refuge, but it started to rain as we were driving, so we headed for the Space Center. I thought it would be a nightmare there, since it was a three day weekend and we had read that WDW was booked solid. But we arrived, fairly late in the morning, to a nearly empty parking lot. What do you Floridians do on a three day week-end?
The Center has vastly improved since our last visit, but the lousy food has remained the same. You cannot bring in coolers or certain types of food. What, no tuna sandwiches? Security is pretty tight, the process pretty similar to getting a wheelchair and all your other stuff through airport security. We headed for the bus tour and waited. Seems like it takes a long time to get busses around for loading. I can see why this place is a nightmare when it is crowded. They took Gmas wheelchair to a holding area, assuring us there would be loaners at each stop. Another group seemed to be pretty upset about this arrangement. The folks who load the busses could use better communications skills about what is expected.
We boarded the bus. There is a video that shows while you are riding, with the bus drivers trying to point out wildlife as you go. We saw an eagles nest, a small alligator and lots of armadillos. The first stop is near the VAB (Vehicle Assembly Building). This is a huge structure that was used for the Titan series and is now used to attach the Shuttles to their rockets. The top of the building was obscured by clouds, that is how tall this thing is. There is a painting of a flag on it, done for the Bicentennial and each stripe is as wide as a truck road. There is a film detailing how the shuttle is moved to the buildings, rockets attached to the shuttle in the VAB, then how it is moved and manipulated on the launch pad. After the film, there is a working model of the launch pads and a small interactive kiosk. This stop also has an observation tower, where you get a wide view of the VAB and launch sites. There is junk food for sale here, and pelleted ice cream (forget what it is called). Very pricey, over $11 for a couple of doughy pretzels and a bag of chips to stem off our hunger. Back on the bus.
This leg has the video running again, detailing what animals live in the area. The next stop is a large building housing a Titan rocket, one of the three never used for an Apollo launch. There is more junk food for sale and a shop. We watch one film on Apollo, and then are escorted into a room containing the original control desks of the launch team with a presentation of a launch. I remember this display, it is now housed in a less-utilitarian setting, kudos to the designers. There is another theater, sit-down this time, with films and rising and falling displays of the moon landing, the LEM highlighted against a starry black sky. The kids were very taken with this. It tugs at your patriotic heart strings, but left me feeling saddened.
I grew up in the days where every launch from Canaveral meant a trip to watch every second of the countdown in the school gym on a tiny black-and-white TV, barely containing your excitement. I remember the space landings, my mother making us go outside to look up at the moon and try and fathom that a man was walking there, right this very second. I remember Apollo 13, standing transfixed in front of a department store TV display as news of the peril of Lovell, Swigart and Haise was broadcast to the world, and again looking up at the moon that night and feeling fear. Now NASA has a budget many times that of the NIH. And yet, at my kids school, the Title I teacher walks the hall with micro-waved noodles to feed students who have come to school without any breakfast or lunch. She needs to fill the stomachs of fifth graders so they can concentrate, students who have come to the school still not able to read. Here are my cornucopia kids at WDW, after a Magic Cruise and seeing places where we blasted off for the moon. How I wish we could go to Mars. How I wish no child was hungry. I vow to dig up copies of the movies October Sky, The Dish, Space Cowboys and The Right Stuff and make my kids watch them, while they are still innocent enough not to weigh the cost of these programs against the needs of their less fortunate classmates, and world-mates.
Back to Kennedy and Earth. We get back on the bus and return to the main complex. We look at the rocket displays and watch one of the Imax films, the shuttle scenes filled with the smiling images of Astronauts who died. We get the heck out of there and check out the shops to cheer ourselves up. We walk up to the memorial, very sobering, but I wish there was more personal information about the names on this huge black wall. Most are familiar and I know the circumstances of their deaths. But some are not. How did this person die? Did they have a family? Is the family O.K.?
We stop and listen to a question and answer session by Mark Lee. I feel bad that I had to come home to look up his accomplishments, three Shuttle trips and much more. Astronauts are not our everyday heroes, now. We know more about obscure rock stars then people who altruistically yearn for the stars. There is one young woman in the audience who wants to be an astronaut, shes so excited just to get her picture taken with Mark Lee. She is a biologist, will they take her? It is nice to see that there are still young, enthusiastic people who want to go to space, heck with the danger. I try to convince my kids to get a picture, they are too shy, or I guess they do not realize that this person HAS touched the sky.
We go through some static displays, the kids are losing focus rapidly. We look for something to check the status of the Mars rover landings, (one successful, at least today, still), Europes not. There is only one small panel with a few pictures talking about the FUTURE landing. With food at such outrageous prices at this franchise, you would think they would have enough money to pop for a computer that would let you log onto the live site, you can do it from home. There is more information to be had by listening to NPR than visiting Kennedy Space Center.
We leave the Center, pretty quiet and tired. As we drive down the deserted road, a bobcat crosses our path, we barely see him before he is gone. What a remarkable place this area is, rockets to the moon and animals, still here, that called this home long before we invaded.
The weather has cleared this afternoon, we are hungry. As we cross the causeway heading back to Cocoa beach we can see the Wonder moving down the channel. We stop for dinner at the Sunset Waterfront Café and Bar, mentioned somewhere on Daves site? or the DIS?. Another funky place. It has tables on the Banana River, protected tables on a deck and an inside area, deathly quiet, occupied by two lone seniors at one table. We opt for the covered deck. Live band, lots of renditions of things my husband and I remembered, Fleetwood Mac and Janis Joplin and like ilk. We watch the sunset and eat more salad, fish and carbohydrates. I have crab cakes, thinking that for the cheap price I will get a couple of small ones. These things are the size of Frisbees, I can only eat one. Peter takes care of the other one. Pretty good food, decent price, marginal wine. Lots of cute servers in tiny t-shirts and short-shorts. The guys must love this place.
Back to the resort. I do another load of laundry. A visit to the pool for all. There is a hot tub on the deck above the parking, stairs lead from the pool. We enjoy our lofty perch and look over at the Hilton. I can see why folks trash this place. It is a very unattractive block, nice location on the beach but few of the rooms even look toward it. We relish that we are here and not there. Thanks Dave. I do another load of laundry. To bed after another sit on the balcony and a look through the binoculars at the fishing boats.
Tomorrow, Merritt Island Wildlife refuge.
Now I'm no longer Tink, the pixie dust gone, just
Carla
