There are more than seven wonders in this world.

As you well know, I start the day far earlier than any of you; where you are usually snug in your beds, I'm sitting at a desk, analyzing. I see the beginnings of the day, and the end of the day. I'll admit that the middle of the day is usually a liiiitle hazy.

Today, for example, is an anniversary. Forty years ago, an American fellow by the name of Armstrong took a little walk, and changed the world we lived in, forever.

I was one day short of my seventh birthday. My father let us stay up late, to watch the whole thing on television. My father did that; he was always well aware of what was going to change the world, and by God, he was going to have his kids watch it. I also got to see Hank Aaron hit his 715 home run. My father's sense of history was as wide as the North Dakota sky, and I love him for it.

And there, in the family room of the house in Rochester, on a black and white television, the sun long gone and the stars out in full force, Armstrong said his now famous phrase, and stepped out onto the dust of the moon.

Years later, a specialist in audio finally put to rest the grammatical error. What Armstrong actually said was, "That's one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind." The audio was a little inferior, but what did we expect? They were hundreds of thousands of miles away, and there was no guy standing there with a boom mike. And you can't actually ask for a second take on the moon.

I'm assuming that all of you reading this are sane, and believe that they landed near the Sea of Tranquility, and not New Mexico.

I can remember the look of absolute wonder on the face of Walter Cronkite. His wonder mirrored our own, and rightly so; even the best newsman in the world has got to show astonishment when faced with the astonishing.

For years after, and I'll admit, even a little bit today, I feel that the moon in some way belongs to me. They landed the day before my birthday, and the New York Times' banner headline appeared on my birthday. I still have it, framed and waiting for the moment to be replaced on a wall.....MAN WALKS ON THE MOON.

Happy Birthday, kid. Here's your moon.

I'd like to say goodbye to Cronkite as well. In 1971, he had a series on Saturday Morning called, YOU WERE THERE. It did dramatizations of historical moments. I loved that show, because they often broke the historical wall, and had modern newscasters interviewing these historical figures. It gave me my first taste of the love of history. I especially liked the show the did on Emilia Earhart, which also fired my love for mysteries, both real and imaginary.

The birthday has always been a bittersweet one, especially as I got older. It is ironic that most of my birthdays are marked by the loss of one friend or another, and those losses have tainted the day for me a little. But with the benefit of wisdom, I have found that I can celebrate the unbelievable accomplishment of living this long, and honor the memory of those that left an indelible mark upon me. If you know me at all, you know that all of those that I have loved go with me wherever I go.

Even though I haven't seen them in ages.

Oh, my friends.....what a wonder is my world. And how nice to have spent the time in yours, as well.