Good morning!
There are a couple of observations the last few days that, while quite different, seemed connected to me. It’s about work-life balance and achieving the little things.
The first was an article discussing how people can “have it all.” This has been a mantra, particularly of the women’s liberation (now feminist) movement for some time. It is also a rallying cry for being able to have everything a man or woman can have at work while making elections of their own outside of work.
Then there’s the show For All Mankind, on Apple TV+. That show is a reimagining of the history of the moon landing and the conquest of space (through an imagined space race that leads to a space arms race). In that show, we see the lonely Michael Collins orbiting the moon while Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin descend to the Moon’s surface.
I have been thinking a lot about “having it all.” I think we all strive to do as much as we can. And while I respect when someone goes “all in” on a single thing, they sacrifice in other things. I have come to the realization that most of us really cannot “have it all”—or at least not in the sense of being the absolute best at something and maintaining a work-life balance. I also came away with the sense that most of us will go through life as Michael Collins, perhaps getting close to monumental events, but never actually being at the center. Most will be on the sidelines most of the time, with only bit roles in the larger events of history. And is that so bad?
When we were kids, we played a game called Careers. In this game, the players try to amass points in three areas: Fame (stars), Happiness (hearts) and Financial Success (money). The conceit of the game is that each player gets to decide their own “target” for each of the three areas. So you can go 1/3, 1/3, 1/3, or you can go 50%, 25%, 25%. Some of the more daring (and non-strategic!) players will go “all in” for fame, at 100%. The idea that the game conveys is that all of these things are largely in one’s control (though the game does not take into account luck, being in the right place at the right time, or recognizing and seizing upon opportunity, each of which also is a factor in success). In any event, the game tells us that one cannot “have it all.” One can achieve just as much as one chooses in the mix one chooses. This game had a profound effect on me as a child—really bringing home the notion that work/life balance is important. It had such an effect that, when the kids were old enough for games, I bought it and played it with them. Happiness, fame (or impact), and financial success are all part of a formula. We decide how much of each we seek to attain.
THE REAL THING IS BETTER—BUT THIS IS PRETTY GOOD TOO
Regarding the show, For All Mankind, it is earnest, and its perspectives and social commentary are interesting. In particular, it tackles issues of government overreach, being gay in the 60s, women’s liberation, geopolitics, and civil rights, all around the central theme of space exploration and a continuing space race with the Soviet Union. It is a two-season commitment that starts familiarly and grows more complex and different from the “real” history as episodes play out.
It is a bold idea to rewrite the history of Apollo, American politics (e.g., Teddy Kennedy elected president), and the Cold War, and while the production and many of the plot lines are good, I can’t help but to think that the science fiction falls short of the actual science. As alternative history goes, it’s not nearly the Philip Roth dystopia, nor the Robert Harris rewriting of history. The real history is so much more compelling.
I remember the early space program like it was yesterday, as I and my friends in elementary school were transfixed to the television. Every Gemini mission was a big deal and, when we were in junior high school, Apollo 11 was the biggest success story ever. It was as if we were all part of the space program—as if its success was our success. In many ways it was, as so many of our friends’ parents were in the aerospace industry (now no longer ubiquitous in Southern California). And when Apollo 13 was in trouble, it was like family members were at risk of dying in space. We hung on every bit of the story, nervous for their future, cognizant of the long-odds. When they made it home, it was proof that science and ingenuity to accomplish almost anything—get us out of almost any jam.
Interest quickly waned, as we have the attention span of gnats. And this was before video games, cellphones, TikTok, and Facebook.
GREAT SPACE MOVIES
For truly great renderings of the space program in “real life,” The Right Stuff (the extraordinary recreation of the Tom Wolfe book on the beginnings of the space program), First Man (the story of Neil Armstrong) and Apollo 13 (the Ron Howard classic), rank at the top of the list.
For documentary, Apollo 11, Challenger: The Final Flight, First Man, and For All Mankind (the documentary, not this one).
For fiction, 2001: A Space Odyssey , The Martian, Star Trek: First Contact (not to be confused with the current , Capricorn One (don’t laugh at that one about the moon landing being a farce), Star Trek IV, The Voyage Home, Total Recall, and Gravity.
For comedy, Guardians of the Galaxy (the first one—not the sequel), and Galaxy Quest (truly inspired and still makes me laugh—“you have saved us…”)
For animation, The Iron Giant (which remains one of my all-time favorite movies—animated or otherwise, from the brilliant Brad Bird, admittedly about a guy from space—not in space), and Wall-E.
ENDING WITH HOPE
I think back to those days and feel this generation has missed out on a collective venture that can get us all wishing and hoping and “in it together.” While fighting climate change or fixing our failing infrastructure doesn’t have quite the same sexy ring as landing on the Moon, these are ideas worth getting behind.
Have a great day,
Glenn
From the archives:
Capricorn One was about a faked Mars landing, not the moon. Another historical footnote is that it was on the set of that movie that one Orenthal James Simpson hung the moniker “Whiteshoes” on me.