“A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” (Lao Tzu)

I successfully open the Saturn V box and dump the 12, numbered plastic bags (along with some bags within the bags) full of parts onto the table. I take a break.

Without even consulting the 200 pages worth of building instructions, I boldly rupture the bag labeled number 1, pieces scattering on the table, and note that the bags are constructed so that there’s no putting the genie back in the bottle. I take a break.

I put together a few pieces to satisfy those skeptics who think that the mere opening of a bag, without injury, doesn’t deserve the credit I know it does. I note that the designers have gone to great lengths to create a myriad of shapes and sizes, not so much, I think, as a necessity for building the 39-inch tall rocket (the real one was 363 feet – wouldn’t fit in my unit), but as a way of very cleverly making it consist of exactly 1969 pieces, reflective of the year Tom Hanks or Neil Armstrong or somebody went to the moon. I take a break.

Tomorrow is another day and I’ll need my energy.