By Mike Bibb
Buzz Aldrin salutes the first American flag erected on the Moon, July 21, 1969. (photo by Neil Armstrong)
"Fly me to the moon
Let me play among the stars
And let me see what spring is like
On Jupiter and Mars." — Fly Me To The Moon by Bart Howard, sung by Frank Sinatra, 1964.
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"The Trump administration aims to accelerate the construction of a nuclear reactor on the moon, Transportation Secretary and acting NASA Administrator Sean Duffy wrote in a memo distributed internally on Monday." — The New York Post, Aug. 4, 2025.
In a move reminiscent of Christopher Columbus and other old seafaring adventurists, President Trump is contemplating placing a small nuclear reactor on the surface of Earth's only moon, and to make sure we do it first.
To declare it official, we'll raise the Stars and Stripes above it.
Sort of staking a claim to the place.
I thought we already had Old Glory unfurled somewhere up there. In fact, I'm sure of it. The Apollo 11 Mission stuck one in the ground on July 21, 1969. I saw the event on a small TV while stationed at a Marine Corps air base overseas.
Believe other moon landings have also placed a few.
"Yes, Mike, there's several United States flags 'flying' up there, but they're just for bragging rights. A nuclear reactor would really be making a national declaration. It'd be like saying 'We're here to stay, so don't get any bright ideas about trying to take it away from us.'"
Using much more diplomatic words, of course. Wouldn't want to upset the esteemed dignitaries at the United Nations who, by the time this event takes place, might be known as the UN + Moon.
Possibly, Trump has imagined that if we can't have Greenland, then the Moon is the next best thing. It's a little farther away, colder and doesn't have much air to breathe or water to drink, but we can fix those minor details.
Plus, a brand-new nuclear reactor can provide all the electricity we'll need. Even decorate the place with Christmas lights so Santa can find his way.
Best of all, flight crews to Mars and beyond can stop by for a cup of Joe, catch up on MLB or NFL sports scores back home and learn the latest Democrat accusations against Trump.
Wow, kind of like a deep-space Xtra Large Circle K — complete with a deli, snacks, beverages, showers, cell phone charging stations, NASA T-shirts and American Eagle jeans, a Popeye's Louisiana Chicken franchise, local real estate listings and CNN providing unbiased Earthly news over multiple 112" screens.
"The View" really could be the view, as the hosts — exiled from Earth — look down on their former home and spout endless gibberish about whatever it is they think is wrong with Republicans and their orange leader.
Of course, venture capitalists and corporate governing boards would naturally wonder if the new nuclear reactor could provide sufficient power to light up a Super Walmart, Home Depot and a lunar Disney World at the same time without having to import additional LNG, wind and coal supplements.
There's a lot to consider when colonizing a place, besides the usual everyday stuff. Police, sanitation and garbage pickup, for instance. Someone has to provide these services if society is to remain safe and clean for Amazon to make overnight deliveries.
In an environment lacking considerably less gravity than Earth, a person will have to make adjustments to their daily routines. Walking the dog becomes more challenging if Rover suddenly decides to chase Fluffy the cat, who has already leaped several hundred feet into space. Not certain arthritic shoulder joints and stainless knees could withstand Rover's unexpected tug on his master's leash, or if they'd return to the surface in time for lunch.
Meanwhile, in the White House's Situation Room, an anxious president and cabinet members will be mulling over the seriousness of Russia, or China, or a Confederate California deciding they may want to build a Moon Mall or rocket truck stop of their own.
Competition is good, except when it menaces the New World Order of things. If so, it immediately becomes a "Threat to Democracy," requiring the combined wisdom and intelligence of Congress to resolve.
Since there's an obvious shortage of those two elements in the nation's capital, an outcry of "Impeach the SOB" becomes the solution. Unless, of course, the SOB is one of your own SOBs.
Then, calmer voices will probably suggest "This is a urgent matter requiring an in-depth investigation into the unsubstantiated allegations against a respected member of this administration. We'll get back to you on that — sometime in the future."
Which implies a trip to Mars and back — with a couple of stops at the Moon — will probably happen much sooner than learning if a particular SOB is really the SOB he's accused of being.
I suppose SOB could also be the Mars Mission statement inscribed on the side of the spacecraft: $pending Our Billion$.
When millions become billions, then trillions, you know we're getting our money's worth.
Apparently, space goes on forever and so does our government's spending!!!
