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Alt text:
They didn't bring us a gift, but considering the kinetic energy of a bottle of wine at orbital speed, that's probably for the best.
Ok, now we start patiently waiting for the website where you enter an address and then get back your astronaut visit date.
Is it there yet?
I'm not sure if there's any publicly available orbital data for the ISS with enough precision.
This assumes that old thing that your property goes straight up so you also claim ownership of the airspace, as written by Lawrence Lessig in his excellent book "Free Culture".
In that case, on more than one occasion I've had several dozen people over for dinner, as a commercial airliner flew overhead.
Legal Fiction, by William Empson
Plus, I recommend Samantha Harvey's 2023 novel, Orbital, spanning one day on a space station orbiting Earth. It's really good.
Image transcript:
Law makes long spokes of the short stakes of men.
Your well fenced out real estate of mind
No high flat of the nomad citizen
Looks over, or train leaves behind.
Your rights extend under and above your claim
Without bound; you own land in Heaven and Hell;
Your part of earth's surface and mass the same,
Of all cosmos' volume, and all stars as well.
Your rights reach down where all owners meet, in Hell's
Pointed exclusive conclave, at earth's centre
(Your spun farm's root still on that axis dwells);
And up, through galaxies, a growing sector.
You are nomad yet; the lighthouse beam you own
Flashes, like Lucifer, through the firmament.
Earth's axis varies; your dark central cone
Wavers a candle's shadow, at the end.
Thanks you beat me to it
As someone who grew up in Wapakoneta, I can make this claim without orbital hijinx, and specifically with Neil Armstrong himself!
I don't get it. How did they eat the dinner?
Over(head) for (the duration of) dinner (well, part of it anyhow).