Years ago, when the space race began in earnest, one of the most fascinating elements of that achievement was the development of powdered orange juice.

Sure, the United States made it to the moon first because of clever rocketry and all those brave souls who sat on top of barely controlled explosions, allowing themselves to be hurled into space. But astronauts also had to eat while they were up there, and among the most amazing of their foods was the suddenly famous orange powder that could be turned into a relatively realistic version of orange juice. It was called Tang. It’s still available today.

So are astronauts. And the other day, John, one of those audacious explorers who have gone into space, married our friend and next-door neighbor, Margo. We were there to witness the launching of their marriage. May they live long and happily in the blissful orbit of each other.

We have another celebrity of sorts who visits the house on the other side of us. The grandson of our friend and neighbor Dorothy is a Chippendales dancer who became a familiar face recently on a national reality television show.

Those two men on either side of us have at least one impressive aspect in common – courage. I don’t know about you, but I lack the nerve to climb atop a rocket or to dance in my scanties in front of a roomful of screaming women. A guy could get hurt either way.

That is not to say that I don’t take daring chances. I spend my life trimming vicious rose bushes, herding fairly large cats and disagreeing with the nation’s current humongous ration of political hysterics. That’s excitement enough for me without rocket riding or driving women wild with my 72-year-old sagging pects.

During the wedding the other day, I thought of one of the first visits to the moon. A television reporter at that launch asked a question of one of the scientists present:

“What good is going to the moon?” he asked. “What good is a novel?” the scientist shot back at him.

Touché! Not everything in life must have a monetary price to be worth something. In fact, the more impractical an accomplishment, the more it can be worth.

A potato is good for nourishment. Toothpaste is good for cleaning your teeth. But what good is a novel?

What good is catching your limit from a cold mountain trout stream?

What good is a dog or a cat or a pet pig that is utterly devoted to you?

What good is the wedding of two people in love? Sure, they can compound their separate salaries. And they can share a toaster, the morning paper or their own hot lips.

But in a practical sense, a wedding is not always a great financial advantage in how you live your life, especially if kids start arriving. Kids, when they are first born, are always reluctant to run right out and get a job and help with the enlarged family expenses.

What good is watching someone else’s wedding? Well, for one thing, it does your heart good to see a room full of people with smiles a mile wide on their happy kissers.

And there is that look in the eyes of the bride and groom – a mixture of the same joy and concern that you might see in the eyes of equally brave astronauts as they march in their funny space suits toward the rocket they are about to ride. The launching of love is also wild and scary.

So what did we get the happy couple?

An orange juicer, of course. Think of it as do-it-yourself Tang.

Contact columnist Bill Hall at wilberth@cableone.net or 1012 Prospect Ave., Lewiston, ID 83501.