The Final Frontier

July 20, 2024 marks the 55th anniversary of the Apollo 11 moon landing. I wasn’t old enough to fully appreciate the significance of that feat, but the occasion was memorable enough to serve as my earliest memory as a child. I was lying on the floor, asleep in front of the small black and white TV in our living room. Mom and dad woke me up to watch Neil Armstrong step off the ladder and onto the moon. While I remember being awake and watching it occur, I don’t remember what I supposedly said when it happened, but I’ve been told it was something to the tune of, “It isn’t really the moon. It’s just TV.” Cynical, even as a toddler.

As time went forward, however, I remember being very interested in astronauts and the solar system in general. Dad got me up early (or let me stay up late, depending,) to watch whatever particular meteor shower was coming, or go to the observatory for events or viewings. In school, I made a presentation on the overhead projector, using black paper and different sized pin holes to show different constellations. I even drank Tang, because the astronauts did. (Something we later learned that, while true-ish, was a bit of a misrepresentation, but that’s a topic for a different story.)

Space still holds fascination for me. I love the movie “The Right Stuff.” I still like to go out at night to catch a glimpse of the Leonid shower, or check out the lunar ellipse. I still think it’s pretty cool to look up, and pick out Venus or Mars among the other little lights.

And I still think Tang is way better than Kool-Ade.

-Toph

1902’s A Trip to the Moon

Perfectly Flawed

As all competitive people, I LIKE TO WIN. (Thank you for that clarification, Captain Obvious.) When I play a board game, I want to sink the battleship, land on Boardwalk first, and know the trivia questions.

As a competitive swimmer, I was pretty damn good. I didn’t always win, but I was usually a pretty safe bet in the events I entered. I won a lot of trophies and medals as a kid (way back when there was no such thing as a “participation award”,) and I set a few records in my age groups. I qualified for the State Championships as both a junior and a senior in high school.

Now, this sounds like I’m just bragging (and in a sense, I guess I am,) but I do have a point– stick with me while I get there.

When it comes to building plastic models, I’m a hobbyist. I’m not a professional, an expert, or a master. I have gained a lot of useful skills over about 50 years, and I am pretty comfortable at putting together a kit, painting a miniature, or even building a diorama. But it is never perfect. I have entered several competitions. I have picked up an occasional recognition, but it certainly isn’t the norm for me, and only once was it a first place. When it comes to the tiny details, I’m just not that precise. I honestly don’t notice the tiny imperfections that are required to be a master. I would have made a really crappy engineer or architect. First aid? I’m your Huckleberry. Brain surgery? Absolutely not!

When I make a model, I’m actually what I would call an IMPRESSIONIST. I want my completed creation to evoke something. I want the viewer to FEEL the nostalgia, or pride, or fear. I want to show precisely what it REPRESENTS, or is SUPPOSED to be; not necessarily what it IS. It’s why I often gravitate toward less expensive projects. It’s not because I’m cheap. (I AM cheap, but that isn’t why I gravitate there.) I can be creative or edgy with a technique. I’ll use unconventional tools or kitbash pieces that could more effectively be used as is. Mine won’t look like the other ones. The projects other people build will probably be more accurate. I sometimes take it as a given. My satisfaction – my JOY in this activity- comes from both doing MY best (knowing fully well that it isn’t a good as others,) and from doing it MY way.

It might not look like the box art. But if I succeed, I will FEEL exactly what it represents.

-Toph