This is an opinion column.

An astronaut. That’s what should replace the rocket. Like, for real.

If you’re scratching your head, I’m referring to the majestic 168-foot NASA Saturn 1B rocket, an homage to Alabama’s historic significance to the space industry that’s offered a towering welcome on Interstate 65 near the Tennessee border for 44 years. Now, put a pin in that number; I’ll come back to it.

Last week, NASA, which owns the rocket, and the U.S. Space and Rocket Center, to whom it’s on loan, recently said the rocket—designed for orbital training missions, it carried Skylab astronauts into space and last saw duty in 1975—must come down. Before it falls down.

RELATED: NASA rest stop rocket decay: “It’s time for it to go’

It’s rust upon rust, deteriorated beyond feasible repair. The agencies studied options for months before announcing last rites last Friday, saying to disassemble, repair, and reconstruct would cost $7 million. If it could be done at all.

Repairs, moreover, would have to take place on-site since the rocket’s components are too large to squeeze beneath highway overpasses, and there’s no guarantee it could withstand the process.

RELATED: Iconic rocket at rest stop to be taken down, NASA says

As a relatively new Alabamian, I’m fascinated by the passions that launched the moment we learned the symbol might come down. I received emails pleading: PLEASE HELP US SAVE THE ROCKET. One state legislator vowed to “fight the fight” to halt its demise—until it was clear the mission was impossible.

Another claims aborting the rocket may be illegal, forcing the state to have to fine itself. Like, for real.

RELATED: Does Alabama’s monuments law apply to the NASA rocket?

State Sen. Mack Butler (R-Rainbow City) told my AL.com colleague Greg Garrison said taking down the rocket may crosshairs with the Alabama Memorial Preservation Act, the insipid 2017 law passed by the Republican-dominated legislature to stop the removal or changing of anything honoring the Confederacy. The law makes it illegal to all but sneeze on monuments that have been sitting on public property for more than 40 years. That’s pretty much just Confederate monuments.

And now, a rusted, crumbling rocket. “It may be problematic,” Butler said.

I’ve made my feelings about the law quite clear. Back in January 2020, Birmingham was fined $25,000 for obstructing the base of the 52-foot-tall Confederate Soldiers & Sailors Monument in Linn Park with wood panels. In June, Mayor Randall Woodfin ordered the obelisk removed in the dead of night after protesters tried to bring it down with hammers and pickaxes.

It is not missed.

I’ve got no skin in the rocket battle. As of this newsletter, not a peep from Gov. Kay Ivey or any other state leaders about whether the state will fine itself—is there a swear jar at the state house? Or ignore it like the officer who catches his buddy in a speed trap.

They’ll likely quietly look the other way as the rocket descends into a pile of brown metal.

RELATED: Astronaut John Glen’s hometown interested in Alabama welcome rocket

Then? Replace it with an astronaut. A gigantic astronaut. No, not Buzz Lightyear or the popular Snoopy Astronant balloon from the Thanksgiving parade.

One akin to the 75-foot, 43,500-pound concrete testament to Oklahoma’s oil-rich history—for the unfamiliar, the state was once essentially land atop a sea of oil—that stands guard outside the Tulsa Expo Center in my hometown. It was originally constructed in 1952, rebuilt six years later, and in 1966 donated to the Tulsa County Fairgrounds for the International Petroleum Exposition.

In 1979, the legislature declared it the state monument.

It’s, uh, he’s called The Golden Driller. He stands boldly, left hand on his hip and right hand resting atop a depleted oil rig.

As corny as it sounds, I still get a kick out of seeing it during trips home.

As would drivers along I-65 at the sight of a gigantic astronaut where the soon-departed rocket once stood.

I envision them wearing a full space suit, including helmet—shield down to ensure the heroic men and women who have soared in the pursuit of space’s elusive secrets are represented.

Got a better idea? Share it with me at [email protected].

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Roy S. Johnson is a Pulitzer Prize finalist for commentary and winner of the Edward R. Murrow prize for podcasts: “Unjustifiable”, co-hosted with John Archibald. His column appears in The Birmingham News and AL.com, as well as the Huntsville Times, and Mobile Press-Register. Reach him at [email protected], follow him at twitter.com/roysj, or on Instagram @roysj.