Stardate: December 5, 2117

I’ve been stuck on this god-forsaken planet for 3 earth-years now.

My safety suit was supposed to be state-of-the-art, but the seams leak and my skin itches from the sulfuric-acid dust particles that filter through. All my friends back on earth are watching the black dot move across the face of the sun like a beauty mark, while I’m riding it like a surfer stuck in the doldrums, unable to catch a wave back to shore.

I’ve seen pictures from the last Venus Transit back in June of 2012.

Times were simpler then; a guy didn’t have to sign up for three consecutive space missions to make ends meet.

People could just drive up the road to the Observatory and camp out on the lawn, have a picnic, and gaze up at the stars.

Even the dogs had it easier.

The science back then was pretty straight forward. They knew about as much then as they know now, and as much as they knew a few hundred years ago. It’s the hubris of wanting to fly that’s gotten us in so much trouble. The wings are still wax; it’s just better quality wax.

Back then, most people were happy to view Venus from afar, through telescopes with solarized lenses.

My grandparents went up to the observatory in Griffith Park that day, had a picnic, wandered around the building, and took pictures.

I have a few of those pictures with me, and I love looking at the clothes, the old telescope technology,

the Hollywood sign above, the city below,

and the golden sunset on the green grass.

When I get back to Earth,

I think that’ll be the first place I’ll go.