Anyone who knows me knows I have a soft spot for anything that flies—with the notable exceptions of mosquitoes and those terrifying winged monkeys from The Wizard of Oz. As a child, I was convinced one of those flying demons would swoop down and carry me off in broad daylight.
That said, if it flies and doesn’t drink blood, I’m a fan.
Airplanes hold my deepest affection. Helicopters fascinate me despite their apparent disregard for common aerodynamic decency. But rockets? Rockets (SpaceX) have always occupied their own orbit in my imagination.
Growing Up During the Golden Age of Rockets and Spaceflight
As a kid, I built and launched model rockets powered by what were optimistically called “engines,” but were essentially controlled explosions with branding.
Despite several close calls—including at least one near miss involving my sister—I somehow survived with all fingers and eyesight intact.
I grew up during the Apollo era, when astronauts were not merely explorers but mythological figures. They wore white suits and bubble helmets and traveled to the moon, which at the time felt less like science and more like destiny.
Years later, as a newspaper reporter, I covered the landing of Space Shuttle Columbia at White Sands Missile Range. Watching it descend from the sky felt like witnessing something divine—human ingenuity returning safely from the void.
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Watching SpaceX Falcon 9 Rocket Launches from Vandenberg Space Force Base
Today, I live near Vandenberg Space Force Base, where SpaceX regularly launches Falcon 9 rockets into orbit.
The sonic booms from returning boosters rattle windows and reverberate through the neighborhood with unmistakable authority.
(Pro tip: a Falcon 9 sonic boom sounds like God kicking a dumpster full of anvils.)
These launches serve as reminders that spaceflight is no longer historical. It’s present tense.
Why Rocket Enthusiasts Love SpaceX and Modern Spaceflight
Naturally, my enthusiasm for rockets led me to acquire several SpaceX t-shirts.
They’re comfortable. They’re affordable. They have rockets on them.
What more could a lifelong aviation and space enthusiast want?
For a while, I wore them proudly.
Then things became… complicated.
How Elon Musk’s Polarizing Reputation Complicates SpaceX Fans
As most people know, SpaceX is owned by Elon Musk—a man widely regarded as either a visionary, a provocateur, or some complicated blend of both.
Regardless of one’s opinion, he is undeniably polarizing.
In my household, let’s just say his approval ratings lag behind those of household appliances.
My wife, who is thoughtful, perceptive, and politically aware, has gently suggested that wearing SpaceX apparel in public may send messages beyond my intended enthusiasm for rocketry.
She hasn’t banned the shirts outright.
But she has mastered the art of the meaningful sigh.
The Social Risks of Wearing SpaceX Merchandise Today
My SpaceX shirts now occupy a category shared by other rarely worn items, including vintage Denver Broncos jerseys and a Jimmy Buffett “Parrot Head” tank top of questionable dignity.
Even wearing one inside the house occasionally draws looks suggesting deep marital reconsideration.
I try to explain that my admiration is for the rockets themselves—the engineering, the physics, the improbable elegance of controlled explosions escaping Earth’s gravity.
But nuance rarely translates well onto cotton fabric.
Why Rocket Enthusiasm Isn’t About Politics—It’s About Wonder
I wish appreciation for rockets could exist independently of politics.
Can’t a person admire the marvel of spaceflight without issuing a disclaimer?
My enthusiasm isn’t ideological. It’s gravitational.
I like machines that defy gravity. That’s all.
If those machines happen to be built by controversial billionaires, that’s incidental to the miracle of flight itself.
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Why Rockets Still Inspire the Same Awe They Did in Childhood
Being a rocket enthusiast today sometimes feels like navigating cultural turbulence.
Yet the feeling hasn’t changed.
Putting on a shirt with a rocket on it reconnects me with the child who believed astronauts embodied courage, curiosity, and possibility.
That feeling transcends controversy.
It belongs to the sky itself.
Why I’ll Always Look Up When a Rocket Launches
Marriage, like flight, involves constant course correction and compromise.
My wife tolerates my eccentricities. I try not to advertise them excessively.
But occasionally, when the house is quiet and the coast is clear, I’ll put on one of my SpaceX shirts and step outside.
I’ll look up, just in case something’s launching.
Because in that moment, none of the surrounding noise matters.
There is only the sky—and the possibility of escape.