la luna

I had the privilege of watching Neil Armstrong deliver a talk today. Some 15 years ago, I wanted to be Neil Armstrong. I devoured book after book, deified NASA, and announced my ambition to everyone within hearing range. Of course, being outfitted with a ridiculously large pair of spectacles on the second day of primary school soon put paid to those dreams, but some of those images - the perfectly still flag, his almost comical, bouncing gait - I will probably never forget.

Neil Armstrong turned 75 a month ago, but the only telltale sign of his advancing years is a slight rattle in his voice when he gets excited. And he was often excited. How many men can point to a defining moment in their lives, when all that came after was never the same again? He has built a career out of his definition, and it would take a far more cynical person than I to begrudge him his success. It's plain that he often relives it. He must have told the story time and time again, to audience after audience - and it's a good thing that he never tires of telling it, because going by the reaction of the crowd, nobody's tired of hearing it.

Responding to a question from Lorraine Hahn, all clipped tones and cream pantsuits, he told a story that has apparently attained the status of an urban legend. As the tale has it, during a visit to Egypt, he heard a resident imam's call to prayer. Lost in recollection, he paused only to ask a passerby what the sound was. Asked why in return, his reply was that he had only previously heard it on the moon - and then proceeded to convert to Islam.

His explanation that he had never been to Egypt served to debunk the myth, but interestingly enough came nowhere near to answering the more overt question. Speaking of urban legends, a member of the audience posed a question about the moon landing itself- the reality of which has been questioned of late, by a purported documentary and a particularly virulent email thread.

"The only thing harder than doing what Apollo 11 did," Armstrong calmly responds, "would be faking it."

Why is it that I will argue against creationism until I'm blue in the face, but am completely ready to accept the wearied word of a septuagenarian as incontrovertible truth?