When I began commenting on the deaths of famous people four years ago, the last thing I wanted was to contribute to our culture’s perverse fascination with celebrities. In fact, I only began this feature as a lark to propagate the superstition that the deaths of famous people come in threes.
Therefore, I hereby declare that, henceforth, I shall comment only on the deaths of famous people who have made pioneering or extraordinary contributions to mankind.
(“Post mortem on Deaths of Famous People,” The iPINIONS Journal, June 4, 2010)
No doubt it was a pioneering event on July 20, 1969 when Neil Armstrong made his “one giant step for man, one giant leap for mankind.” And every mention of that historic landing since then has given the impression that it was not just momentous but truly meaningful.
Except that, to my simple mind, everything about man on the moon has always been belied by having so few men follow in Armstrong’s footsteps. For, including him, only 12 men have set foot on the moon, and none since 1972.
Which begs the question. What benefits have we enjoyed as a direct result of man landing on the moon…? Because, apart from the unprecedented infusion of national pride it inspired back then, I am hard-pressed to cite a single benefit. (And even though we’re only landing robots on Mars, I suspect this momentous event will turn out to be no more meaningful. The only wonder is that it is taking so many rover shots of molten rocks and red dust for mankind to get the picture….)
At any rate, I suspect nobody became more mindful of the dubious nature of his achievement than Armstrong himself. Many have wondered why he so zealously shunned the fame America wanted to lavish upon him. I submit that it might be because he was humble enough to recognize that what he did, though momentous, was not truly meaningful.
Apropos of this, it’s instructive that when George Mallory, the first man to summit Mount Everest, was asked why he wanted to do so, he reportedly replied, “Because it is there.” In a similar vein, it might be that Armstrong came to realize in retrospect that his landing on the moon served no greater purpose.
But what a moment, eh?!
As indicated, Armstrong was famously (and refreshingly) humble and private. Therefore, he would probably recoil at all of the heroic eulogies being broadcast around the world to mark his death.
Accordingly, I shall end here by simply noting that Armstrong died on Saturday from complications following recent heart-bypass surgery. He was 82.
Farewell, Neil.
NOTE: Apropos of that superstition, Jerry Nelson, Count von Count of Sesame Street, and Phyllis Diller, pioneering comic, both died within the past week as well.
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