Old Sam took off his hat and made a little speech. “Men and women of Earth,” he said simply, “we have reached the Moon.” It was very impressive--it was about as impressive a moment as I have ever seen. Then Old Sam stepped toward the door. Naturally, the next moves had all been carefully rehearsed. He was to don his uniform, a thick rubberized affair with a fishbowl helmet, then he was to step out of the airlock of the great steel ship, bearing a flag in his hand. Then he was to plant the flag in the soil of the Moon, and the television cameras were to be brought outside the ship, and we were all to get our first look at the Moon, while he made the speech claiming it. So we all watched breathlessly, while he got into his helmet. At last, Old Sam went to the airlock, turned once to wave at the cameras, and pushed a button. The door didn’t open. There was a seemingly endless pause, and then, still calm, he pushed the button again. The door still didn’t open. He pushed several times, then motioned to one of the crew. You could hear people begin giggling nervously. The crewman examined the lock with bewilderment, then mumbled something to Sam. “What do you mean, frozen?” Old Sam cried, and the question must have been audible all over the world. Then he pushed feverishly at the button. But the great steel door wouldn’t open. It was all very embarrassing. Having reached the Moon safely, they couldn’t get out of the ship. The ship of course was built of solid steel, fully pressurized, and there was simply no exit. They had spanned two hundred and forty thousand miles of space, had spent four billion dollars and they couldn’t get out of the ship! No flag, no speeches, no scientific information--no diamonds! They couldn’t get out of the ship! The door was frozen shut. Moments later--some of the most wildly hysterical moments in history--Old Sam announced unbelievingly to fifty million people that he had discovered the reason. Some mechanic, back on Earth, had greased the outside of the door. In outer space, the grease had frozen rock-solid. There was no possible way of opening the door. I must say, to Old Sam’s credit, that he didn’t break down. He waited, at least, until the cameras were off him. Then all we saw was a frigidly smiling announcer, trying to point out that Man had after all reached the Moon. But you could feel the shock rising all over the world--and then the laughter. * * * * * Mankind guffawed from pole to pole. Practically everybody enjoyed it but Congress. Some hothead introduced a resolution banning spaceflight forever. There was nothing for Old Sam to do, but to bring the ship back to Earth. It would be understandable if he had committed suicide on the way. He came back to what must have been the worst ribbing in history. I guess, deep down, we were all a little embarrassed, and we had to take it out on somebody.