Some interesting reader responses to my NASA post yesterday.

Reader A:

Gene Kranz always wore a white vest, a different one for each mission, because he was White Flight (in Mission Control, everyone referred to the flight director as Flight). His wife went nuts trying to find new white fabrics.
Each flight director had a color. Glynn Lunney, who in a just world would be as legendary as Kranz (they had equally incredible grace under incredible pressure), was Black Flight.
But the affect of your story is correct. Gene was (still is) a devout Catholic who would stop by a church to pray on his way to Mission Control, an ex-fighter pilot, and would get himself revved up before a shift by playing Souza marches.

I’m not even going to contemplate the possibility of U.S. government employees referring to each other as “White Flight” and “Black Flight,” not while Eric Holder’s feeling his oats.

Reader B:

[Quoting me] “Eugene, stand up, please. Who gave you permission to wear red, white, and blue to school? Don’t you understand how disrespectful that is to your classmates from other countries? Shame on you, Eugene! Go and report to the principal’s office at once!”
No, that’s the old ruler-wielding schoolmarm – I have considerable respect for them. They were hell-monsters, but they were not manipulative.
Now it would go something like this: “Eugene, don’t you want to fit in with the other kids? You don’t see anybody else dressing like this. Don’t you think it’s a little show-offy to dress like this just so you can get attention? I think the other kids are entitled to some attention too, don’t you? I think their cultures are just as important, don’t you agree? Well you can’t expect the other kids to want to play with you if you’re going to act liek this, now can you?”
If the other kids weren’t even remotely thinking of shunning him or even noticing what he wore, by this time they should be ready to beat him up.
The “Huggybears” Florence King described replaced the schoolmarm – and now they’ve been replaced themselves by the Flower-Power Mafiosi, gangsters of love and acceptance.
Yeah, we’re doomed alright.

I think this is right. My schoolmarm didn’t strike the right note of kumbaya fascism.