Yesterday’s announcement that millionaire space tourist, Dennis Tito, is organizing a trip for two to Mars beginning in 2018 is intriguing. Called “Mission for America,” Tito seeks a married couple to spend 501 days together in a 600 square foot space capsule as they travel towards the Red Planet and “boomerang” back to Earth.
Given the close quarters and the length of time, Tito believes that a married couple is the ideal candidate for this journey. Obviously, he’s never seen the Real Housewives of pick your city.
While I think this would make for interesting reality television, there isn’t enough money on this planet to convince me to take this trip.
I love my husband and enjoy spending time with him, but I think he’d agree that we wouldn’t get anywhere close to 501 days before reality television turned into a crime drama.
For starters, I can’t travel anywhere here on Earth without getting complaints from him about my packing. Granted, I take a lot wherever I go, but I grew up in Dallas so it’s simply ingrained in my DNA. Make-up and hair products are essential. You wouldn’t even dream of going to the Emergency Room without your lipstick on. Why would you make an exception for a trip to Mars?
I don’t think I’m alone here. I’ve surveyed a number of women and they all agree that squeezing all their beauty products into those tiny little 3 ounce containers and then cramming everything into a sandwich bag is next to impossible. I do know a couple of women who can pull it off, but they could also probably pose for the cover of Glamour, so I believe they are clearly the exception.
There are also the minor little disagreements that can blow up into something monumental. I can just imagine.
Him: “Did you push this button on the control panel?”
Him: “If you didn’t, then who did? It wasn’t me. It had to be you.”
Me: “I didn’t do it. You must have done it and just forgot.”
Him: “I did not!”
Me: “What? Are you calling me a liar?”
Him: “If the shoe fits!”
Me: “That’s it! Take me home!”
You get the picture.
Besides having to somehow remain friendly for all those days, the lucky couple will have to get by with sponge baths and “recycling” water by drinking their own urine. I’m sorry, but I’m not doing this with or without my husband.
While I know without question I won’t be making this trip myself, I do hope it’s televised. Get the popcorn ready. This is going to make Survivor look like church camp.