06/10/2026
We spent the entire day at the US Space and Rocket Center yesterday and it was everything we hoped for and then some.
Arriving in Huntsville, it’s impossible to miss the giant rocket looming over the interstate. The sheer enormity of the rocket overwhelmed me as an adult who has seen some things, so watching Little Farmpit’s eyes widen to fit it all in was truly something.
As we go along our trip, we have other kids along the way to make things a little more fun, so we had a new buddy join us for the day. I mean, I can party and I can hang, but my back hurts, I’m over 40 and I nag entirely too much at times, so it makes it extra fun to have another kid to buffer some of the “don’t do that’s” and “be carefuls”.
For me, one of the most special parts of the whole experience happens before you even enter the center. As you approach the building, you will see scaled down models of the planets on your left and to the right, a tall granite monument, covered in bananas. It’s the grave of Miss Baker, the first monkey in space and beside her is a marker to commemorate her “husband”, George. His grave was covered in coins for reasons I don’t know but every day, people leave offerings to them as they come and go from the facility and there’s a part of that that just got me.
One of Little Farmpit’s favorite things to talk about in space are black holes, so we were able to watch and entire black hole presentation in a massive planetarium while eating popcorn. We ran around the grounds, climbing under rockets and in and out of capsules that had flown in space, the sheer enormity of it all just leaves even the most wordy of writers without. As we walked around, Little Farmpit and his buddy found the most incredible and fun place in the whole place of space.
The elevator.
It wasn’t a fancy elevator though when it opens, the view is of the Saturn V on its side and you can walk under it and feel miniscule in its greatness. It was just an elevator. It just went up and down 2 floors and had the typical buttons. It didn’t have windows, music or even a poster. It was just a plain elevator that, in spite of in all the billions of dollars, decades of ingenuity, research and hard work put into space exploration, stole the show, probably worming its way into LFPs core memories of childhood while I leaned up against the capsule John Glen orbited the earth in, hurling “stop its” , “get over here” and “this is the last time” while the boys threw their hats in and sent them on their own solo missions.
There were rides that you paid for and rides that were included. Little Farmpit was really disappointed that he couldn’t ride the Moon Shot. It’s a ride that essentially shoots you a hundred feet or more into the air and drops you back down so you float momentarily while your mom has a heart/panic/sh*t attack from the ground. There was, however, the GForce ride and at 49 inches, he was tall enough to get on.
For most of us, the GForce ride is what we would call the Gravitron at any county fair. It’s, essentially, a human centrifuge and is a great ride for people like me that are afraid of heights as it just spins around in a closed environment and pushes you against the wall while the wall seat things slam you up into the ceiling. As a kid, I remember this ride being my favorite. Probably because it was one of the only ones I would do due to not having a single thrill seeking bone in my body.
As an adult, this ride is hell.
Platonically, I silently analyzed and sized up the breasts of friend that had come with me to the center. Grabbing my own ti***es and shaking them at her, I asked if she had ridden the ride as an adult. In hindsight, I probably should have shaken my ti***es at her after explaining why I was inquiring.
“Now that we are older and softer, with these,” I said while shimmying, “things just kinda squish in and this ride is pretty painful, so just be ready.”
We strapped the kids in between us and then ourselves. As the ride began, I took one last grab at my chest and shot her a silent glance in an effort to convey the enormity of our situations. I tucked my hands under my saggy bits and let the fun of centrifuging begin.
Sure enough, I was right. Everything was just pushing in. My thoughts all went to worrying about what this was doing to my blood pressure. Can strangulation by ti***es cause a stroke? One hand on LFPs shoulder, one hand smashed under a sweaty mountain of flesh, it was the ultimate battle against gravity. My eyes hurt, my jaw clenched, this ride is not for the weak chinned or any nomination of D cups. Would people be thanking me for my service and leave bananas on my gravestone like they do, daily, for Miss Baker if I was to perish in this simulated space experience?
Fortunately, as the panic grew darker and deeper, the ride stopped and neither of the kids wanted to do it a second time. Dipping into the bathroom when we finished, I washed my hands and, while I looked into the mirror and had a realization.
July 20, 1969 was the day man landed on the moon.
June 9, 2026 was the day I started wearing b**b deodorant.
The rest of the day was equally exciting and exhausting. LFP and I were some of the last people to leave the Space and Rocket Center. Sweaty, sleepy and filled with all the mysteries of the universe, we met up with new friends for dinner. Afterwards, crawling in bed, fat and happy, dreaming the sweetest dream of the majesty of a non-descript 2 story elevator in northern Alabama.
Image description: A series of vacation photos of a mother and son at the US Space and Rocket Center. There is a small caption under each photo kind of explaining it but it would be greatly appreciated and super cool if anyone wanted to further explain each photo for the visually impaired readers among us.
