Abandon in Place, part 1
The second track on handmade is “Abandon in Place.” This song was recorded January 21, 2007.
The future isn’t what it used to be. When I was a kid, we had just landed on the Moon. It seemed like anything was possible. I thought by the year 2001 there would be cities in space and people landing on Mars. I thought I’d be living and working in space.
Instead, flash forward to 2007. Is 2007 really any different from 1977? Sure, the fashions have changed; we have computers and the internet; we have cable TV.
Big deal. Do you think someone transported through time from 1977 would die of culture shock in the world of 2007? Probably not. We have more gadgets, but no more accomplishments.
The Apollo program was an accomplishment. For a brief moment in history, we did something spectacular. Then we gave it up and went back to bashing each other over the head with clubs, same as has been going on for the past 30,000 years.
If you go to Kennedy Space Center (which is here in Florida, of course), you might get to tour Cape Canaveral Air Force Station. Launch Complex 34, site of the tragic Apollo 1 accident and the first manned Apollo flight (Apollo 7), stands desolate and empty, painted with the words “Abandon in Place.”
In a way, this is a metaphor for the entire space program — abandoned in place. What do we have today? Compared to Apollo, the space shuttle is a joke. On the odd occasion that it actually launches, it only goes to the middle atmosphere (300 to 500 km), specifically the thermosphere. That’s right, I said atmosphere — it doesn’t even really go into space.
Compare this to the might of Apollo — carrying humans 384,400 km from Earth. Now that’s space exploration.
I am not the first to notice this metaphor. One of my favorite science fiction authors, Jerry Oltion, actually wrote a short story years ago called “Abandon in Place” (which he has since expanded into a novel; see his page for specifics). I felt so strongly about this story that I contacted him via email and even got a copy of one of his first books, Love Songs of a Mad Scientist.
I think there are a lot of us who grew up looking to the stars and are disappointed, as adults, to find they are as unreachable now as they were to our club-wielding ancestors. This is what the song is about. However, it is also about hope. It’s too late for me, but for the kids in my science classes . . . maybe not.
Tomorrow’s article will be about the chords and composition of this song.
