HAPPY 50TH ANNIVERSARY, OF A SOVIET BLUFF.

April 12, 1961: Yuri Gagarin becomes the first man to enter SPACE. I would first like to thank Google for bringing this day to my attention. Now, you should know that I am highly skeptical of all space travel. Personally, I find it hard to believe that we were so gung-ho about astronauts and space shuttles in the 60’s and 70’s, but now we are more concerned with the latest iPod apps. Has our technology really gone from traveling around our galaxy to perfecting 3-D TVs? Where has our space program gone? Have we really explored all there is to see on the moon and beyond? But, I digress. Let’s address the matter at hand: Yuri Gagarin.

Allow me to set the scene: America has launched an impressive 42 satellites and the poor Soviets have only managed to launch 12. The Soviets had to prove that they were more powerful than the US; communism had to prevail over democracy. So, on April 7th, 1961 they decide to one-up us by attempting to send Vladimir Ilyushin into space (a human surely trumps a satellite). However, the mission was a failure. Vlad made it back to Mother Russia with some serious injuries. Some sources believe that he wasn’t the first and as many as three other people had died in previous attempts. The Russians wouldn’t give up though. They decide if they can’t actually make it to space then they will do the next best thing, fake it. How do the Soviets expect us to believe that they have extra capsules and thrusters and all that jazz laying around so they could just send up another cosmonaut five days after the last attempt? And so, the Russians moved their space program to a warehouse in an undisclosed location (similar to Area 51 I suppose) and 50 years later we are celebrating Yuri Gagarin’s pioneer spirit.

THIS ONE’S FOR YOU MOM.

The year was 1998 and my mom had a theory. Bill Clinton was our president and gas was 96 CENTS. We debated which gas station to go to based on one penny differences in price. Maybe you remember it maybe you don’t, maybe you cry yourself to sleep at night dreaming of the good old days. Regardless of whether you remember it or not, as I said, my mom had a theory. I have retold this theory to many people and everyone looks at me like I’m a raving Conspiracy Theorist, like I put little brochures under people’s windshield wipers with information regarding why gas prices were so low.

To me it makes sense: Bill Clinton was getting impeached. Impeachment is a huge deal if you are president of the United States of America. In the history of our nation it had only been charged against ONE other president (Andrew Johnson, in case you were curious, and Nixon doesn’t really count). So how am I going to artfully weave a tale of intrigue and impeachment, love affairs and gas prices? It’s simple. Bill Clinton fixed gas prices to win public and political favor. While I was only ten at the time, I assure you, I could sense something was up.

But you might ask, where did we get this extra oil to be able to slash prices so severely: a little state just north of America’s Attic (aka Canada), Alaska. In 1998, the LA Times wrote a small almost unnoticeable review that Clinton had OK’d the opening of “4 million acres of pristine wetlands and river valleys along Alaska's vast North Slope to new oil production, the biggest expansion of Arctic oil development in decades. (Kim Murphy, LA Times: August 7^th, 1998)” Woah ANWR (Arctic National Wildlife Refuge) enthusiasts, still Pro-Clinton? I don’t think I need to say more. I know I enjoyed the gas prices while they lasted and while many people looked at my mom like she was some far left nutter-butter, she taught me a lesson all those years ago: always remember if someone is washing your car, pretty soon they’ll want their car washed too. So are you tired of paying $3.50 a gallon?