Here’s how I was marking the occasion, 48 years ago:
While we’ve done amazing things with remote sensing and with robotic exploration, we haven’t done much more with manned exploration. Given the success of the robots, we couldn’t have gotten that much information for the same money with men. But as somebody who grew up on “the conquest of space” it’s still a major disappointment.
I have several rolls of such shots. They’re all Kodak Tri-X, bulk loaded, shot with my mother’s old Bolsey 35 I believe (I didn’t get my Miranda Sensorex until December of 1969). Developed with stainless steel tanks in a dish pan down by the laundry sink, contact printed in the waterless darkroom the other side of the basement.
The white bands diagonally across many pictures shows that the shutter speed of the camera wasn’t well-enough synced to the scan rate of the TV. The TV scan rate would be extremely accurate or the picture would be complete hash, so the shutter was off. This was a leaf shutter, not a focal-plane shutter, which affects the symptoms.
This was roll 108; I started the numbering system at 100 to make room for filing older negatives as I found them and organized them. This was so long ago that the negatives were in glassine sleeves.
(Promoted from a comment elsewhere, original context not needed for this to make sense.)
Being aggressive, brave, feeling privileged, or whatever it is that makes me speak out in almost any circumstances doesn’t actually correlate well with knowing things useful in a discussion or in having ideas of value to a discussion. It’s worth some effort to me to avoid driving away people who have stuff to contribute to the discussion even if they are “timid” or easily scared off. Brash, outspoken people don’t really lack for opportunities to make their points; but we don’t have “all the points”.
Yes, the cat ran into the car. Yes, the car was moving. In a straight line, in a traffic lane on an ordinary street, no other traffic, not exceeding 30mph, full daylight; nothing weird.
I wasn’t driving, so when I saw the movement in my peripheral vision I could turn and watch just that. The cat ran across the front yard, out into the street, and bonked head-first into the rear door of the car, bounced off, turned, and ran back into the yard.
I hope it was okay; I can only think it was not quite right in the head already, or else maybe there was something I didn’t see — maybe it was chasing something I missed? Maybe, but I saw the cat run far enough it wasn’t close to anything it was chasing. Dunno, obviously. It was extremely weird, though.
(This happened ages ago, in the mid 1980s, when a friend visited us in Massachusetts. I’ve mentioned it online before I know, but I don’t think I’ve told the story carefully in a place I can find it later.)