As a child of the 1960s I lived in the suburbs south of Boston. Nights were filled with silence. No cars, no voices, no music. Every house was a tomb and in the summer I'd steal from the house to our back yard. The grass was shorn short by constant mowing. The stubs were painful to my feet, but I'd strip off my pajamas and lie on the lawn, looking to the sky.
I was not seeking the mystery of God in the celestial night sky, but an aberration in the galactic traffic.
"Oh, UFO come take me away."
Alien abduction was a better fate than suffering pubescence in the suburbs, yet no flying saucers hovered over my body. I was stranded on Earth along with billions of other humans. None of us were going to the stars, for our solar system is located on the most remote edge of the Milky Way.
Think Great Slave Lake.
Spaceships warp past Earth without decelerating. Our planet isn't on the Inter-Galactic Guide. A cosmic billboard on the Moon WINE AND DINE AT EARTH' might help trade with the passing aliens, however Earthlings are stuck on the ground. Wreckers are cutting Space Shuttles into scrap. Governments are short cash. Travel to the stars has been abandoned for the moment and we exist alone, despite claims to the contrary by Apollo astronaut Edgar Mitchell that UFOs regularly on this blue planet and not only the cow-mutilators of Wyoming.
His conversations with old-timers from Roswell strengthened his own experiences in Space and Edgar Mitchell is convinced that NASA and the Pentagon have been vigorously prevented the truth from reaching a public more interested in potato chips than UFOs.
"Is there life outside of Earth?"
The Colonel thinks so and I hope so, for humans have fucked this planet and as my biker friend, Wayne Shepherd said back in 1973, "When the foot gets a foot high you have to step a foot higher."
My father considered billions spent on NASA to be a waste.
"There's nothing out there?"
No go-go bars for sure or romantic lakes or no marching bands, for.
tubas take up too much room in a spaceship, although I once saw a tuba on a Star Trek episode.
The former astronaut also says that the three crafts hovering over Phoenix three years ago were not ours. They were from another planet and not Mars either. Someplace much farther away and we can't even estimate that number with our pea brains, but i no longer want to go to the stars.
I have four kids.
A two loving daughters and two busy boys.
Those are my aliens, for ET are us.
Children from future.