Yuri’s Night has come and gone, and the 44th anniversary of manned space exploration is behind us. 44 years. Do most people realize that the time between the first man in space and the first man on the moon was barely more than eight years? Eight years, two months, and eight days. April 12, 1961 and July 20, 1969. Twelve years until the shuttle launched. And we’re still flying the shuttle. Our pace has slowed down; we need to kick it into gear again. If we were given an unconditional green light, I wonder what we could accomplish in eight years, two months, and eight days.
The party last night at the Outpost was great. We had some people that probably didn’t pay, but all in all we had a good crowd, the bands were great, and the weather was amazing. If this weather came around more than 5 days a year, perhaps we wouldn’t all hate Houston.
I do hope we can find someone willing to take over the organizational lead for Yuri’s Night next year. I think each of us is a bit burnt out on the whole thing. I enjoy handling the race, but am not that interested in the other stuff; I just need a break. I was telling a couple people that it’s sort of funny how each of us has “our” Yuri’s Night event. If we had to pick one of the three, I would choose the race, Jen would probably choose the educational stuff, and Becca would choose the party. And yet planning it every single year gets a bit stressful. We’re going on three years now. It’d be nice to have some new help next year.
I’m tired. I have to make a very strong effort to get a good amount of sleep tonight and tomorrow night, because somehow I have to ride my bike to Austin this weekend.
