Houston, we have a problem.

Houston, we have a problem.

This Christmas we had a guest from afar.  It was her first trip to the Mainland USA so we wanted to show her our city. Where to go, what to see in the great town and fourth largest U.S. city of Houston?

I suggested the ship Channel, but the tour was full all week long.   The cold and wet weather precluded the Bayou walk or Arboretum, where, even in winter, the Bog trail is fun. No one was really interested in the museums or theatre. My son suggested NASA.  Sure, the huge rockets, the interactive displays, the history. 

My, my, have things changed.   Last time we were there, we wandered around among the rockets that were interspersed on the grounds.  We toured the training facility pool and mission control center.  The day was intelligent and FUN.

Now, the entry fee is almost prohibitive for a family.  We bought online and SAVED $5.00 per person!  On entry to the building there is a bag search and metal detector.  Inside, there is…LEGO land?   No one over age 4 admitted? The exhibits seemed to be cheap amusement-park standards, kiddie playground equipment, or rides that cost extra (on top of the $6 parking). Where is the Space Station “room”?  Where is the History of Flight area? Where is ANYTHING that might make us wonder or think? 

Our last trip to NASA.

We decided to take the tram ride to see

A: Mission Control or

B: the training pool for weightlessness.  

Not both.  Either/or.  We chose Mission Control because the line was shorter.   Sign reads: FOR SECURITY ALL PASSENGERS MUST HAVE PHOTO TAKEN.   WTF?  As a group of four we were told to “stand there and look here”.  I looked THERE and stuck my hand up in the air.   Security my @$$.  Oh and if we just happen to want a souvenir photo of our disgruntled selves waiting in a claustrophobic line for 60 minutes?

THIRTY DOLLARS thank you!

On the monitor above us is Miss Texas form several years ago and the highlights (read ads for tourist traps) of the City of Webster.  Over, and over, and over.

After snaking a few more times and getting poked by oblivious cretins wearing full backpacks that hung over into MY line space and jostled ME, we approached another security check point.  Take EVERYTHING out of your pockets and put on the table.  Give a flunky a uniform and a bit of pseudo-authority and they become neo-Nazis, waving their batons around.   It’s a freaking tram ride, not a nuclear power plant! 

We are handed laminated, numbered cards.  We MUST hold these until we return to the tram after visiting Mission Control.  Huh??   I suppose it is a body count. Can’t have us sneaky visitors wandering off to do steal state secrets at Space Center Control! We are advised to note our row number and to return to this exact spot on the tram afterwards.  We file into the building like sheep and are told to turn off all cell phones before we walk up the three flights of stairs. What?  Is the phone signal going to bring down the space station?  Or do you just fear we will be texting our BF instead of listening to your spiel?  I fear the obese family ahead of my might not make it up the steps but they do. 

OK.  I am awed by Mission Control.  I’ve seen it before and it is rather small, but this is the place where the real activity is!  Nothing is happening in space today, so the room is relatively empty.  (HEY… what is that KID doing down in there?)  I bet when the shuttle is up this place is hopping! 

Back on the tram to the next stop and the Saturn V rocket. The 30-story tall rocket is now housed to protect it from the elements.  It is incredible to see the power stages and the tiny capsule for the crew.  One man seems to really know his stuff s we follow him around and listen to what he tells his family.  On the wall are all the missions.  All the astronauts are in their space suits except for Apollo 13.   Hmmm.  Did they wear business suits into space?  Now I know the story of the aborted lunar landing, but I still don’t understand why their photo is different. 

 

We caught the tram back to the main building and looked at the space suit display, pointing out to our guest how short these men were.

We did have a good day.  Our guest happily took many photos and we all had fun together.  But…   I left with a bad taste and the gnawing feeling that this national treasure really was a national embarrassment.