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for the Irish Pub Community





Once in a Blue Moon





By Chris Poh






Black boy in Chicago

Playing in the street

Not near enough to wear

Not near enough to eat

Don't you know he saw it

On a July afternoon

He saw a man named Armstrong

Walk upon the moon

         - From the song "Armstrong"
                                 by John Stewart


Neil Armstrong's first step on the moon as seen in PartingGlassMedia.com

It seems both appropriate and bittersweet that we have honored the achievements, and marked the passing of Neil Armstrong on the occurrence of a blue moon. I was fifteen years old during that momentous summer of 1969 when we placed two men in the Sea of Tranquility, as a third crew member orbited  Earth's only natural satellite. But truth be told, I was much more interested in that which transpired among the sea of humanity that had landed on Max Yasgur's farm near Woodstock, New York. But within those two very different events there was a common measure of human potential. In the midst of generational conflict, civil unrest, political upheaval and a brutal war in Southeast Asia, we could still overcome our shortcomings and failures to achieve greatness. And there was a collective appreciation of those accomplishments that transcended our differences.

Neil Armstrong as seen in PartingGlassMedia.com

As I listen to the  current political dialogue during this summer's presidential campaign, I wonder to myself if these times could even produce the likes of  Collins, Aldrin and Armstrong, or for that matter even a Crosby, Stills and Nash. Currently our national discord certainly seems to have a decided edge over any possibility of national harmony.



After the Apollo 11 Mission, I remember spending a bit more time peering into the night sky. There was a time when even my old Gilbert 80-power 3-inch reflector telescope found its way back to the front lawn. The small bits of light in the dark silence rekindled some of that wonder and awe that was lost to the self-absorbed ways of adolescence. Today most of my celestial gazing seems to be limited to those long walks back to the car after closing some pub. Unfortunately, like so many of us I find my self spending too much time in that mundane inner space where the light of the heavens is obscured by incandescent pollution and our own pointless incessant chatter—a place where humans tend to only react according to their own individual self interests—a place that is the source of both our internal and external strife—a place of big egos and small ideas.

Over the next several weeks there will be the usual clarion calls from both sides of the political divide to join them on the road toward the reclamation of our American potential and preeminence. Our eyes will be bombarded with the well orchestrated persuasive partisan messages coming to us by the light of our computer screens, smart phones and television sets. But in reality, we need not look any further than into the light of our children's eyes, or into the light of that endless night sky to understand our place in human history. It is those illuminations that will fire our intellect and imagination—and allow us to leave our footprints on the path to a better America. Let's just hope that we can make those small steps toward another giant leap sometime before the next blue moon.

                                                                                                                                                                                 


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