I hate to be the skunk at the picnic--or rather, the great national celebration that attended the return of John Glenn to space. But amid all the high-fiving about how wonderful and glorious it was, we seem to have glossed over the fact that on that beautiful Thursday morning we sent the same man on the same trip he made 36 years ago. It is as if we had a great big back-slapping national jamboree at Kitty Hawk in 1939 to watch the Wright brothers skim the sand in a new biplane.
Don't get me wrong. This is no knock on...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
