Fitz's Opinion: A Tucson kid is over the moon with anticipation

The following column is the opinion and analysis of the writer.

In 1969 this 14-year old loved his transistor radio. I heard the Beatles sing “Yellow Submarine” on it. On KTKT. I was cool.

On a Wednesday morning in July, I was lying in bed, contemplating a bike ride, enjoying my radio when Walter Cronkite interrupted “Bad Moon Rising” for a special report.

“All indications coming into the control center at this time indicate we are ‘go.’”

At last. I grabbed my prized John Glenn G.I. Joe doll from atop the Major Matt Mason Space Station next to my Fireball XL5 rocket ship and hopped back into bed.

“T-60 seconds and counting … Neil Armstrong just reported back it’s been a real smooth countdown. … Power transfer complete. ... Tanks pressurized. ... Thirty seconds and counting. ... T-minus 15.”

The sunrise cast a beautiful glow in my suburban bedroom, illuminating the dusty model of a Gemini spacecraft that hung over my head.

“Guidance is internal ... 6 ... 5 ... 4 ... 3 ... 2... 1 ... ignition sequences starts ... 3 ... 2 ... 1 ... zero. ... All engines running.”

Star Trek had been on the air since 1966. I was ready to go where none had gone before.

“We have liftoff ... liftoff on Apollo 11 ... tower clear.”

That day, I popped celebratory wheelies on my Sting-Ray bike. I couldn’t wait to look at the stars that night. My bike, with its high-rise handlebars, suitable for a teenaged orangutan, and its boss tiger-striped banana seat, was the coolest.

Days later I was pedaling to El Con and listening to rock ’n’ roll when Walter Cronkite interrupted all human activity to invite the planet to hear Neil Armstrong tell Houston, “Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed.” I turned around and pedaled home to watch a man walk on the moon, later that night, 218,000 miles away from 27th Street. Houston narrated the dark blur. “Currently it’s upside down on monitor but we can make out a fair amount of detail.”

I couldn’t.

“We can see you coming down the ladder now, Neil.”

I couldn’t see anything, Neil. The Master Sergeant instructed me to can it. “Wiseacre.” Mom shushed us.

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“That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.” What? The Master Sergeant accepted what we all heard as a profound thought for the ages.

“Hey, pop, what’s the difference between man and mankind?”

“Who knows. Sure is inspiring, though.”

I nodded. Mom made a face. Days later we learned Neil Armstrong’s words had been garbled in transmission. He actually said, “That’s one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind.”

My English teacher, Mrs. Romanoff, said, “We can land a man on the moon but we can’t transmit an indefinite article across space.”

Pop was amused by the plaque they left behind. “We came in peace, for all mankind.” The old man huffed, “Wish that were the case every place we went.”

The moon landing convinced me our nation could do anything it had the will to accomplish.

Neil Armstrong’s lunar stroll became the standard against which we measured everything. To quote mom: “They can put a man on the moon but they can’t make a detergent to get these stains out?”

We did make a detergent to get those stains out. We could do anything. There was no limit to what we Americans could do!

A few days after the splashdown I was out pedaling up and down 27th Street on my bike at dusk. As the stars winked into view I looked at them the way I imagined pioneers looked at the new Western frontier, a sparkling realm rich with the promise of adventure and exploration. Mystery and discovery.

I wondered if Neil Armstrong’s kids rode Sting-Ray bikes.

I squinted up at the moon, hoping to see our great American flag up there. Pedaling figure eights in the dark I thought, “By the time I’m an old man we’ll all be living like the Jetsons.” And then I heard Mom call me home for supper.

“They can put a man on the moon but you can’t hear me when I tell you it’s time to come home to eat dinner?”

That night I fell asleep, my head filled with patriotic visions of our great benevolent republic, marveling at the good my amazing America would do in the world, in the days to come, ending poverty, feeding the hungry, curing diseases, inventing astonishing wonders and bringing peace to all mankind. Why not? I saw them put a man on the moon with my own eyes.