Unfortunately, the suit is so stiff, I can't do this with two hands, but I'm going to try a little sand-trap shot here.

Later, in the early teens, I used to ride my bike every Saturday morning to the nearest airport, ten miles away, push airplanes in and out of the hangars, and clean up the hangars.

You have to be there not for the fame and glory and recognition and being a page in a history book, but you have to be there because you believe your talent and ability can be applied effectively to operation of the spacecraft.

I know you're all saying I can go to the moon but I can't find Pasadena.

Miles and miles and miles.

I just wanted to be the first one to fly for America, not because I'd end up in the pages of history books.

Why don't you fix your little problem and light this candle?