le 18 décembre 2012
I hesitate to add my review to the hundred or so others concerning this book, but I can't help myself, maybe because Thad Roberts and I shared a few of the same life experiences, the same university (a great one, with Doctor Hawks whom I adored) and the same religion, a silly diversion I outgrew at age 19 (we never learn if Roberts outgrew his involvement too). Robert's father was a pathetic tyrant but at least Roberts wasn't beaten as I was by mine. Roberts accomplished so many things when he decided to become an astronaut that a lot of them--becoming not only a scuba diver but a diving instructor, a pilot (for Christ's sake!), a student of Japanese (!) and Russian--are dismissed in just one paragraph. From then he went on to do many `cool' things, a word the author affections, like skydiving, hang gliding, coolissimo outings where he was organizer, instructor and star. (At 18 I escaped to France where I now live.) We never learn if he had a lot of sex away from his wife while at NASA (for ten years that, and visiting museums, was all I did--plus teaching English--although I picked up a workable knowledge of a few languages along the way). I looked up his photo on the Net. Good build and a head--without being overly attractive--that girls could say `Why not?' to. Then he blows it, reminding me of a scene in a Houston movie during which a girl, who blows guys for a living, is described in this way: `She's just a gal out to make a buck like any American.' That for me is Thad Roberts, a dude who blew a fabulous future just to make an American buck. I hated his arrest and suffering. I just wanted him free to go the unique way his unique brain would take him. I don't know why the talented Thad Roberts didn't write Sex on the Moon himself; as for me, I've written 5 books, two of which are on Amazon under Michael Hone.