Speaking of space tragedies, this one’s a doozy.

One time, a friend of mine was short on cash for some ice cream and I gave him a buck. Not lent. Gave. I felt pretty nice.

But this guy, Vladimir Komarov, went up in a spacecraft that he knew was likely to blow up. He did so because if he refused, his best friend (Yuri Gagarin, the first man in space) would take his place.

Now I feel inadequate.