I was born in 1964. I was five years old (just shy of my sixth birthday) when Neil Armstrong walked on the moon. I very clearly remember clustering around our old black and white television set to watch the lunarlanding, just as we later would watch the follow-up Apollo missions, Skylab and so on throughout the ’70s. I got caught up in the futurism which seemed to sweep everywhere that seemed to say we’d not only be traveling to the stars some time very soon, but we’d also have cities of tomorrow on the moon, under the ocean — everywhere. I have a copy of my annual primary school magazine that came out in 1971. Students were asked what they were going to be doing when they gew up. Aged 7, I wrote that I was going to be a geologist when I grew up and would live on Mars. I believed it in 1971 because it was believable then.