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My childhood, like many others's my age, was a mix of innocence, wonder and dread. Among the many things we dread and acquire as we grow up are the scary monsters that we see, imagine, and adopt. We have monsters under our beds, in our closets and in the dark recesses of our attics, crawlspaces, and basements. Sometimes these are faceless, ill-defined critters that we feel but never see. I for one never actually saw the monster under my bed and didn't have any idea what it looked like, ditto for the closet monster. The monsters of my dreams were quite a different matter. My dreams were perhaps not surprisingly populated by over-dressed Vampires, Werewolves and Frankenstein monsters, not to mention the occasional rubbery, dinosaueresque beastie.
Despite their inherent scariness these creatures had at least one or two drawbacks that both defined and limited their ability to instill terror. When you saw them or felt them, you knew it; they weren't sneaking up on you. You could mentally check them off as being most definitely monsters and plan accordingly. In addition, the faceless monsters were usually tied to a specific space that could be avoided.
As I grew older I replaced these iconic, monsters with the more subtle, "hard to pick out of crowd" fiends that you could bump into just about anywhere. This can be very unsettling and often can not help but take you by surprise. These monsters vary wildly from an unhinged ex-spouse to a rich cornucopia of creepy co-workers. Unfortunately, we tend to amass more of these as we age, replacing old ones with new ones. Alas, I find that current events have forced me to add yet another permutation to that ever lengthening list. I am of course referring to crazy astronauts.
Who among us has not experienced at least a few moments of dread as we drive the highways wondering if the person in the car behind might be a confused space traveler, sporting disposable diapers and packing a BB gun. After doing so, is it any great mental leap in believing that said traveler might be impatient to keep an appointment that only they are aware of and you happen to be in their way. Speaking only for myself, the mere idea keeps me up at nights.
I defy anyone to not go cold with fear when upon rounding the corner in a supermarket they find themselves face-to face with a person in a space suit, the mere hint of a wig framing the face behind their largely reflective solar helmet shield. The terror is only redoubled when we note that the garbed figure's shopping cart is invariably stocked with items clearly intended for a confused road-trip; items like clothesline, sunglasses, snack cakes, energy drinks and, of course, diapers. No matter how often this happens you just never get used to it.
Astronaut Fun Fact: Space walks usually extend for a period of a few hours and of course, are conducted in a zero gravity. Understandably, once astronauts are out of the spacecraft, they stay out until they are finished with their assignments. As a result, astronauts wear disposable diapers when performing space walks.
Still, this is far less unsettling when compared to contemplating what might be going through their befuddled noggins while they are actually in space. The notion that an unhinged astronaut might be contemplating a demonstration of their undying love for me by crashing their shuttle into my house, (thus raining deranged doom from above), is an understandably disturbing concept. Though not quite as disturbing as it would likely be for the others along for the ride on that particular shuttle. I'm guessing that they may not be consulted when that decision is being discussed by the many voices in Commander Crazy's head.
Back here on earth, perhaps, sadly, this fear has spilled over to the many dating services. While in the past having "Astronaut" listed as your vocation on a dating website carried a great deal of cachet and was sure fire way to get "hits" from would-be paramours, it is now analogous to labeling oneself as an unhappy postal worker. Yes, it appears that many of today's modern daters simply do not have time for a potentially obsessive and bizarre relationship with a highly trained but nevertheless confused admirer.
In closing, I'd like to offer those of you who share my newest fear some small piece of advice that might help them cope with this new dread. To that end, I would suggest that one stay away from Astronauts whenever possible, avoiding their on-line "Chat Rooms," Central Florida, and of course, the local Solar System.
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