The Final Frontier

Most boomers recall the dawning of the U.S. space program with national pride and patriotic aplomb. Yet many of us were too young to be fully aware that we had entered a Space Race with the Soviet Union. The facts were, we weren’t the first into space, and we were getting further behind.

The Soviets had a great deal of success in the late 50s and early 60s. They were the first to launch a satellite into orbit (Sputnik 1, in 1957). That prompted a response from the newly-minted National Aeronautics and Space Agency (NASA) in the form of Explorer 1 in 1958 — and the Space Race was on.

NASA had announced an ambitious program of launching a man into space and ultimately orbiting the Earth. Thus, the Mercury Program was established (1958-63). Seven “astronauts,” as the U.S. spacemen were to be called, were chosen from among military pilots to participate in the program.

But the Soviets beat them to it, launching Yuri Gagarin (the Soviets named their spacemen “cosmonauts”) into orbit and safely back to Earth on April 12, 1961 (Vostok 1). One month later, Alan Shephard became the first American into space (on board Freedom 7). His mission, however, amounted to little more than a slingshot into space and a fall back to Earth — there was no attempt at an orbit yet.

The U.S., feeling the growing embarrassment of “second place,” responded through the president of the United States. In April of 1961, the Bay of Pigs fiasco in Cuba pretty much started the Cold War, according to some historians. Now the Space Race was going to enter the political maelstrom. On May 25, 1961, President Kennedy gave a speech before a Joint Session of Congress in which he laid down to NASA the challenge of sending a man to moon and back again. As if that weren’t a daunting enough challenge for a team that had yet to send a man into orbit, Kennedy set a deadline on the program — the end of the decade.

Building on the success of Alan Shepherd’s Mercury mission, NASA launched Gus Grissom into space in July of 1961. His was another preliminary mission — there would be no attempt yet at establishing an orbit around the Earth. It wasn’t until February of 1962 that the U.S. sent Astronaut John Glenn into Earth orbit aboard the Friendship 7 — a full nine months after the Soviets had completed the feat.

That same year, 1962, was an important one in boomer musical history. The communications satellite Telstar 1 was launched into orbit. Composer Joe Meek immortalized the moment with an instrumental song every boomer can recognize. “Telstar” was originally recorded by The Tornadoes. It went to number one in the U.K., and was the first single by a British band to ever hit the U.S. Billboard Top 100. Then in 1963, it was covered by The Ventures, perhaps the version most boomers will recognize.

John Glenn enters the Friendship 7 capsule. Photo courtesy of NASA.
John Glenn enters the Friendship 7 capsule on Feb. 20, 1962. Astronauts were allowed to name their own crafts in the Mercury Program. Each had chosen to use the number 7 in their naming structure to reflect that they -- the original seven astronauts -- were a team. Photo courtesy of NASA.

Mister Boomer remembers being in grade school during the Mercury missions. A black & white TV sitting on an AV cart was wheeled into the classroom every time there was a launch. A second class of students was ushered in to sit on the floor between the desk rows, faces turned to the TV. Then, along with our nun teachers, we quietly sat in awe as we witnessed the historic events unfold, as they happened.

The Friendship 7 launch holds a special, particular place in Mister B’s memory banks. The summer after the successful mission, Mister Boomer’s family hopped into the car to visit Washington, D.C. The family visited the monuments, U.S. Treasury, sat in on a session of the House of Representatives for a few minutes, and visited the White House. Impressive, memorable visits for a young child, to be sure. But none could capture the imagination as much as a visit to the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum. There, Mister Boomer saw the Friendship 7 capsule — the same one he had seen in the launch, on TV. Looking like an inverted top, it sat on a platform, with wooden stairs leading directly to it. Walking up the stairs, visitors could not only touch the louvered exterior of the capsule, but peer inside through the small window. There, a mannequin astronaut in full gear was visible in the one-man pilot seat. This surprised and frightened the young Mister B at first, but then he was struck by the incredibly tiny and tight space John Glenn had inside his capsule. Walking down the stairs, Mister Boomer noticed the charred exterior of the spacecraft. The pattern of re-entry had left a visible trail in blackened flames. He couldn’t resist running a finger over the darkened side, only to find there was no charcoal-char residue at all. It was completely burnt into the metal, a permanent testimony to the day.

For Mister Boomer, that was it. He followed every space mission, as many boomers did, up to the moon landing in July of 1969 and beyond. With President Kennedy’s challenge met, the U.S. had overtaken the Soviets in the Space Race. And boomers had stories that stirred images of the final frontier that today’s generation can’t even fathom. We were there at the beginning, boomers!

What great memories of the space program do you have? Do you still have a copy of “Telstar”? Is it by The Tornadoes or The Ventures?

Which Cat Was the Coolest?

It’s been Mister Boomer’s experience that early to mid-boomers fall into two groups: The Felix the Cat and Top Cat camps. As far as Mister Boomer is concerned, he was never a huge fan of either, but his particular group was on the cusp between the two — old enough to see Felix episodes but young enough to catch Top Cat as well.

Let’s start at the beginning. First, there is the anthropomorphic cat. We see that in Felix, Top Cat, Tom and Jerry and a host of other shows from our youth. There’s just something about giving human characteristics to animals that seems to fascinate us, especially as children. What we didn’t realize as children, though, were the adult themes and outright violence perpetrated in the name of comedy and entertainment. It was just a cartoon to us.

Felix the Cat

Felix predated Top Cat by decades. In fact, the first Felix the Cat cartoon appeared in 1919, and continued intermittently through the 1940s; however, he didn’t make his TV debut until 1958. Early Felix cartoons, shown in movie houses, did not feature his Bag of Tricks. That was an invention reserved for his television show. What was fascinating to this boomer as he watched the attached episode from 1959, for the first time in over fifty years, is how surreal the whole thing was. Sparse landscapes and stereotyped characters inhabit a world where dream-like things truly seem to be black and white, good or evil. In this episode, there also seems to be a healthy dose of skepticism toward science in favor of a more “natural magic.” Ten years before man landed on the moon, it appears science wasn’t held in the highest regard with cartoonists.

Felix’s Bag of Tricks was really something! First of all, the pattern never changed position when the bag changed perspective. How very Cubist! Is it just Mister B, or does that pattern remind you of a Louis Vuitton, Gucci or Coach bag? (Go ahead and Google some images, I’ll wait…) Hmmm, think there might be some influence there? Then there is the whole bit about the Bag doing Felix’s bidding. Want an apple from a tree? The bag turns into an escalator. Yet when he needs to cross a lake, the Bag becomes a canoe. Not exactly technology coming to the cat’s aid there, now is it?

When the Professor finally gets his evil hands on Felix through the use of a wondrous piece of technology — a cat magnet! — he immediately shrinks Felix (more evil technology) and grabs the Bag. Now in his evil clutches, what does the Professor do? Instead of trying it out, he takes a nap! Felix escapes by calling his Bag for help, and makes his way to the Professor’s master control panel. In an exhibit of science gone amok, he accidently releases a robot. Historically speaking, this was the era of the great sci-fi B movies about aliens — and robots — terrorizing the planet. At this time, then, robots were bad (a sentiment Felix later confirms when he bests the bucket of bolts).

This is where it gets really weird. Felix can evidently remove his tail at will (more “natural magic”?). In this episode, he first outsmarts the robot by “disguising” himself by using his disembodied tail as a moustache to mimic the Professor’s. Later he uses it as a lasso to grab the foot of the napping Professor.

Watching some of the old TV episodes, this boomer is left with a character that never loses his cool — even though evildoers are constantly after him — and he always wins in the end. Was that the message they wanted us to receive when we were children, or was it just mindless entertainment?

Top Cat

This Hanna-Barbera cartoon appeared on TV in 1961. The character was the top cat in an alley inhabited by a group of feline followers, and one policeman, Officer Charles Dribble. Top Cat always pulls one over on the cop. He tends to keep his top cat position by shady means, at best. He’s constantly getting his group to scam either the rich (upper class) or authority (police and politicians).

Here’s a case of a “cat of the people” ruling his alley kingdom like a folk hero (Robin Hood?) for “putting one over on the Man.” We saw similar behavior in Groucho Marx and Three Stooges skits in earlier years, and also in the stereotyped Sergeant in war movies. He always seemed to procure the supplies the troop needed — but when the question arose of how these items came to be obtained, it was a case of, “don’t ask, don’t tell.”

Top Cat had an overly healthy ego, too. He often verbalized his own greatness with aplomb. This carried over to his own image as a “ladies’ man.” In the attached episode, he has Benny fetch him flowers and a box of chocolates for his date. Procured items in hand, T.C. exclaims, “Flowers, chocolates and me. What more could she want.”

A children’s cartoon character exhibiting male bravado and the roguish criminal attitude that his followers adored and females couldn’t resist; such was the stuff many boomers recall with great nostalgia.

So, in the great Felix the Cat vs. Top Cat debate, which is the coolest cat? Mister Boomer declares it a mistrial. What’s your call, boomers?