More Junk From Overhead

We now know that Russia’s Phobos-Grunt Moon-of-Mars expedition will come crashing back to Earth sometime soon – probably next week.

The spacecraft looks like an elaborate wine-cork removal system I once had. “Corkscrew” was too simple a name for it, and it worked about as well as Phobos-Grunt.

While the mission had been to learn more about the Martian Moon Phobos, instead we will find out about more about how big, heavy, out-of-control things re-enter our atmosphere, explode, melt, and plummet. There might even be some advances in debris field plotting, based on the exact location of the uncontrolled landing of 20 to 30 pieces of the spacecraft.

No doubt Bathtub Safety Officer Rafferty would tell us to take cover for the next fortnight, sitting under the stairs beneath a pile of old mattresses until he sounds the all clear. But where’s the fun in that? If a speeding, molten-hot Russian space chunk scores a direct hit on your house, there’s probably no safe spot anywhere inside, unless you have built a reinforced bunker in the basement.

And maybe that bunker is not such a bad idea. The new age of private space exploration means more launches are in our future – possibly MANY more. How many will be poorly planned and ill-advised? If this is the dawn of a new Age of Exploration and the rockets are modern schooners setting out for distant, uncharted continents, then we are the creatures who live at the bottom of the sea – filtering through the stuff that settles and watching for shipwrecks that happen over our heads.

I have often wondered what such denizens of the deep thought of the sudden, catastrophic arrival of the Titanic. Weird, I know. But really – it would come as a bit of a surprise, don’t you think?

And some day in the far, far distant future, when the explosion of our own sun becomes a real threat and we have identified other Earths in “Goldilocks” zones near distant stars, you can bet the well-to-do of our planet will plan their exodus in vessels loaded with their accumulated riches. Why? Because people will always try to take it with them.

Naturally, some of these panicked expeditions will founder.

The good part – Priceless booty rains down all around us.
The bad part – A lot of it is on fire.

Still, it’s always lovely to gaze at the stars.

We blast off for a new planet in ten minutes. What’s in your suitcase?

84 thoughts on “More Junk From Overhead”

  1. The teenager was 9 when my father passed away; we got the call at 6 p.m. on a Sunday. While I made a handful of calls, I printed out our computerized packing list and handed it to her and told her to pack enough for a week (she had never decided for herself before what to bring on a trip). By 7:30 we were in the car heading toward St. Louis. About 8:30 she asked me where we were going to stop for the night. I said I didn’t know… whatever we could find when I got too tired to drive anymore. She knew me pretty well, even back then. She said “No, I mean where are we going to stay?” It took a few minutes for her to realize that I didn’t have something lined up – and even then it was inconceivable to her that there was no plan.

    When we did get to St. Louis and unpacked, I discovered that she had packed all four of her swimsuits, several stuff animals, nice dress, but no shoes!

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    1. bet you figured out how to deal with the shoes, but you would never have covered her on the swimsuits and stuffed animals. kids are not all dumb.

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    2. She packed what was important – shoes may or may not be important. (I have a theory that as long as you have a visa card, you can buy whatever you forgot once you get your destination – unless you are in a cabin in the woods, in which case you may have to improvise if you forgot a toothbrush.)

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  2. Good morning to all. I’ve got 10 minutes to pack? That would be a problem. I’m kind of a slow moving guy. I supose I would get some clothes including blue jeans. My travel toilet kit. I would take a look at my books and select a few, I don’t know which ones. Music CDs and I guess I might need a battery powered CD player and some batteries. My lap top with the hope that I could plug in on the trip and at the destination. Finally Su Doku puzzle books, pencils, pocket knife, chocolate candy, and some family pictures. I have a fire proof box with some records and other docements in it, but if I’m leaving for outter space I think none of the stuff in there has any importance. I guess I would also have to leave my retirement savings behind as well..

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  3. I’d want to bring an iPad . . . the biggest one, the MaxiPad . . . loaded with games and movies. And my Zune, which I have loaded my favorite 6,000 tunes. And then a Kindle loaded with promising books. And then of course, a toothbrush and deodorant. And if I had more time, I’d like to throw in that bag of M&Ms hiding in VS’s drawer.

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  4. It would be nice to have those electronic devices with everything loaded on them. Perhaps I should get up to speed on my use of those things so that I will ready to go into space.

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    1. Ideally, a single device will have all your stuff stored, everything that can be translated into binary bits. Then those hypothetical questions like “What five books would take if you were going to be stranded on a desert island?” become moot. Those questions are probably already incomprehensible to a typical teenager.

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    1. I have a “bit of rope” in my toilet kit to hang up clothes to dry that I might wash in my motel room on a long trip. What would do with your rope, Clyde? Nothing too drastic I hope.

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  5. Greetings! I’ve been learning to get by on less and less. Like most folks have said, just a couple changes of clothes, clean socks & undies, toothbrush/toothpaste, deodorant, brush, soap and a nice shampoo/conditioner. And a soft blankie. And those iPads, iPods and iPhones that I really wish I owned to carry the knowledge and music of the universe with me. And comfy slippers — don’t want to wear shoes all the time. Maybe my make-up kit so I can look pretty sometimes. Extra toilet paper to barter with. Gotta have my Vitamix blender so I can make smoothies wherever I go. Some nice stationery and cool pens so I can write home. My rebounder so I can be sure to get some exercise. Of course, a good camera to document the journey and send pictures home. Ummm … I guess that’s it. Oops! Turned into quite a list. But that’s all i need. Well, wait … I almost forgot …

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  6. Nail clippers. A cat or kitten. A bathtub (curtained). Favorite clothes. Might have to break down and get a kindle or something, not practical to bring so many books. A mentioned above, a guitar (or a keyboard). Some embroidery projects. Scotch tape. A cribbage board, and Husband.

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    1. A nice bit of rope sounds handy. And duct tape — you can always use duct tape.to fix things on a space ship. Ketchup to put on the nasty rations and keep us mellow. A vibrating Bowser Bed to sooth all the savage beasts. Kibbles ‘n Bits for roughage and some kind of “_____” Flakes to keep out mouth pigeons. Thanks, Jim! I’ll probably think of more later!

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  7. A towel, of course, as explained on page 3 of the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

    A towel, it says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have. Partly it has great practical value. You can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapours; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a miniraft down the slow heavy River Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (such a mind-bogglingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can’t see it, it can’t see you); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough.

    More importantly, a towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: non-hitch hiker) discovers that a hitch hiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, face flannel, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitch hiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitch hiker might accidentally have “lost”. What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is, is clearly a man to be reckoned with.

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  8. I try to get by on less too. I’d have to bring the socks and underwear, my Birks, a change of clothes, toiletries, my guitar, a Kindle that I would buy for that occasion and Pippin. He’s my family member, so I can’t leave him behind. He won’t pee in the spaceship (too often), I promise. I like the idea of bringing something to barter with… maybe M&Ms? Or Pinot Grigio?

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      1. It would be tragic if you packed a nice comprehensive wine cellar and as soon as you got into space realized you left the corkscrew behind.

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  9. My laptop (and some sort of charger for it – I’d say solar, but not sure if solar would work) – laptop contains books, music and photos as well as space to write; dark chocolate; baking soda (an all purpose cleaner, including for my teeth – if I use baking soda for many things, it leaves me more room for chocolate – also has medicinal uses if needed); clean set of clothes; my Leatherman multi-tool; duct tape; cheese; gin; a recipe for Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters…and my towel.

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  10. All the things you all have mentioned. Music is a must. Books on tape or on some electronic device as well. Dental floss. Popsickles (I think space is really cold, so I could store them outside ship). Our dog, who would keep us all entertained. Our orange cat. A French Press Coffee maker and real good coffee. I can only drink coffee with cream, so I guess we would have to bring a cow, Jersey or Brown Swiss.

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  11. 10 minutes? I would either be frozen in indecision and not bring anything…or I would grab some of my favorite books (if I could only bring one, it would be The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society) and good chocolate – as much as I could carry. Oh, and maybe some raspberry bushes.

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    1. Frozen in indecision was my first thought, too, Edith…
      What I would take into space seems to not be the same items as the ones I would save from my house if it were to burst into flames. I have that scenario well rehearsed, but this whole spacecraft scenario has thrown me for a loop.

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      1. That’s why Dale posted this, I’ll bet – so we can plan ahead and not be F i I (Frozen in Indecision),

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    2. One or two raspberry canes would be enough. They multiply. You don’t want them taking over the spacecraft.

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  12. I’ll miss you all, but I’m not going! Cramped quarters, especially if they let you bring all the stuff you folks are bringing, and most of it will be useless. I can’t imagine there’ll be water or electricity (probably not even air you can breathe) where you’re going, so no flushing toilet and no use for a bath tub. I’m am pretty sure you won’t find soil to plant those raspberry bushes either. And, dammit, this late in life, when I finally have a decent stove, I’m not going to be eating the crap that will undoubted pass as food. Thanks, but no thanks, I’m staying here with all my stuff.

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    1. maybe you could have your own, private spacecraft, then you won’t have to be bothered with all that stuff. of course, that doesn’t address the lack of decent food or a decent stove.

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      1. Edith, I’m afraid my pioneering days are behind me (though I have to admit, I was never much of a pioneer). I have no desire, none whatsoever, to explore outer space. I could still be talked into a trek to Mount Kilimanjaro, or snorkeling the Big Barrier Reef and whitewater rafting in the Grand Canyon, although all of those would represent a severe physical challenge for me. But, space holds no allure for me.

        Perhaps because of what I’m currently reading, I’m keenly aware of the things that we take for granted, here were we are: clean water, clean air, electricity, the list goes on and on. I can’t even begin to imagine what living inside a spacesuit would be like, and I have no desire to try it.

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      2. I’m secretly with you, PJ. For some reason, I’m getting a kick out of this idea – maybe because I know I would never have to decide if I would go or stay.

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  13. I can see that we’re going to need to bring two bags apiece – one for our own stuff, and I think we should each be in charge of something… Think what you’d be in charge of:
    – rope
    – towels
    – wine cellar
    – chocolate (enough for everyone, now, and not just M&Ms)
    – goats for coffee cream (I’m thinking BiB)
    – coffee
    – real food so PJ will come along
    – raspberry canes and tomatoes
    – Ashton Kuscher and a good Motown band
    – Bowser bed for the pets
    – Target pharmacy so Clyde’s Sandy can come
    – and instead of a bathtub, I’m thinking a sauna

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      1. It would be tragic if you packed a nice comprehensive wine cellar and remembered to bring your corkscrew and as soon as you got into space realized you left the oxygen behind.

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  14. Fabulous moon tonight, right above the roof of my house as I came up the sidewalk, pretending to be perched on the peak. If we go to another planet, can we bring our moon? I would miss it.

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