Chair Force Engineer

Friday, August 24, 2007


Last night, I had the most horrible nightmare. I am not making this up. I remember my dreams far more often than I probably should (perhaps it's part of the sleep disorder that I'm being checked out for.)

I dreamed that STS-118 was lost on re-entry, and the shuttle program came to an immediate end. NASA had announced that the crew's remains hadn't been found, although there was no chance they could have survived the breakup at 114,000 feet. I recall being confused if the orbiter was Atlantis or Endeavour, because logic doesn't seem to work in dreams (with the functions from the non-dreaming half of the brain not being used.) I also recall comparing the Endeavour's loss to a similar event in Buzz Aldrin's novel Encounter With Tiber.

In the next part of the nightmare, I turn into a staunch Stick supporter. I call for development of Ares I at an accelerated pace, because "no astronaut should have to die in the shuttle again." Apparently, in the land of dreams, the "Safe Simple Soon" mantra is still true.

I don't attach any particular significance to dreams. I don't view them as being anything more than the brain's way of releasing the stored anxieties accumulated during the day. I still find it funny that I would have a nightmare about the recent successes of STS-118, although the bad memories of Columbia will always haunt me. I think the funniest part of this nightmare is how dorky I am. My becoming a strong proponent of The Stick is the stuff that my nightmares are made of.