Armstrong continues to inspire, we're still writing tomorrow's history books

Neil Armstrong died last week. I wasn’t born yet when he walked on the moon, and my mom was still in diapers in July of 1969. But that didn’t stop me from idolizing him as a kid in the mid-1990s and early 2000s.

As a kid, every cardboard box was a spaceship, every tire swing was astronaut-training equipment, and every noodle strainer was a space helmet. The corner of Iowa I grew up in wasn’t too far from the “birth place” of “Star Trek’s” Captain Kirk, this only fueled the fire.

Sure, Michael Jordan could slam-dunk and get a pair of shoes named after him that every kid in school just had to have. And Mark Maguire hit more home runs than anybody else. But Armstrong walked on the moon and that was much cooler.

For the longest time I wanted to be an astronaut. As a child, I thought if Armstrong could go to the moon in the 1960s, then surely I could go there too, or maybe even to Mars. Who knew what the world would be like once I reach adulthood. (All I had to go off of for predictions about this decade was “Back to the Future II,” and I’ve yet to own a hoverboard.)

But, reality sunk in as time progressed and I got older. I hate small spaces, and real space ships aren’t like the TARDIS on “Doctor Who,” bigger on the inside and able to get you anywhere in an instant. Getting to the moon means spending multiple days in a small capsule and I can just barely tolerate using a porta-potty for a few minutes.

Plus, the economy tanked and NASA’s funding got smaller each year. (But those are rants best saved for another day.)

Still, the idea of going to space remains in the back of my mind, even today. Never mind that NASA has no need for journalists in space. Honestly, what kind of reporting could be done from space?

I guess I have accepted the fact that I will never go to the moon. But every once in awhile something will pop up in the news about civilians going into space or someone wanting to colonize the moon and my head begins spinning with seemingly laughable ideas of launching into space to see what is out there. The ultimate camping trip.

This is where it starts, with a seemingly laughable idea.

I love the idea of colonizing the moon. I really don’t know what benefit it would bring to humanity other than the satisfaction of knowing we did it. That kind of satisfaction is something I believe the world actually does need.

Of course, fantastic advances in science would be made in the process of colonizing the moon, and those discoveries could enhance life on Earth as well. But, that feeling of collective achievement, of overcoming an obstacle and achieving something that seemed impossible would inspire humanity in a way that not even a new iWhatever could match.

The repercussions of Armstrong walking on the moon did more than just inspire Michael Jackson’s signature dance move, it showed that the sky isn’t the limit, it’s only the beginning.

Before I get too far ahead of myself, let’s put this into some perspective. A little over a century ago mankind couldn’t fly, and up until 1969 we hadn’t been to the moon.

Then manned space exploration sort of just paused. Meanwhile, our computers got faster, our medicine improved exponentially and we mostly focused on the literally down-to-Earth problems.

But right now, we need an encapsulating moment similar to Armstrong’s moon landing, where the line that once divided fiction from reality is crossed and we can say “this is what we did.”

That’s the legacy I want future history books to highlight when covering the start of the 21st century. Armstrong started it when my parents were infants and I don’t want it to end there.

I also don’t want the defining historical moment of my generation to be the Sept. 11 attacks on the World Trade Center. When my grandkids ask me “where were you when…” I don’t want the image that comes to mind when they ask about this era’s defining moment to be one of destruction, but of bold exploration.

The fun thing about history books is that not only are they written by the “winners,” but their “endings” are always to be continued.