RIVER CITY JOURNAL: LOOK! UP IN THE SKY! IT'S A 14-BILLION-LIGHT-YEAR-OLD SOMETHING!

How do they know it's that old? Is there an expiration date or cornerstone or "Best Purchased By ... " label on old stars?

When I look up at the sky at night, I can usually see a few stars.

Basically, that's all I know about astronomy.

Oh, sure, I can pick out the Big Dipper. That is, I can pick it out on a dark night when there are no clouds and the moon isn't too bright.

I still can't remember which one is the North Star, so I hope I'm never lost and have to navigate by the stars.

My wife and I got lost in Kansas once. At night. That's the closest I've ever been to marooned.

It happened right after we moved to Topeka. We went to the auto races at the big new racetrack there. We knew the traffic getting home would be terrible, so we decided to take the back way out.

Big mistake.

We hadn't gone but three or four country miles before I didn't know which way was north. The moon was shining, and I kept trying to navigate by its bright light. But Kansas roads -- they're as straight as an arrow -- never go more than a mile or two before they turn at a 90-degree angle (I'm just guessing on how many degrees, because I can't do math either). When you turn, you're not going the same direction anymore. At least I figured that out.

I don't know how many roads we followed to a dead end in a cornfield before we found a paved highway that looked like it might go into Topeka. It did, eventually. The folks who battled the traffic home from the racetrack were snug in their beds about two hours before we were.

That should have been a lesson. That should have been enough to convince me that I should learn a little bit more about the stars.

But there's something about light years and infinity and the rotation of this planet that makes my head swim. Every time I start thinking about what's out there, I get a headache.

So when there were big news stories in recent days about stars and solar systems that no one knew about, I started getting woozy.

One of the stories was about a star or solar system or something like that from the beginning of time. Well, maybe not the very beginning, but something like 14 billion light years ago. I'm told that's a very long time.

I can't imagine 14 billion light years ago. I have a hard enough time remembering 14 years ago. These days, just about anything that happened to me more than 14 minutes ago could happen again and I'd be surprised.

So these astronomers got all giddy about this thing they found whose light had been traveling around out yonder for 14 billion light years. The scientists carefully pointed out that whatever it is probably doesn't exist anymore. Died of old age, I guess.

What I don't understand is how you can figure out whether the light you see is fresh or spoiled. I know "fresh" and "spoiled" aren't exactly precise astronomical terms, but you get my drift.

I look at a star in the sky, and if I don't know which star it is, I sure as heck don't know whether it's a 14-billion-light-year-old star or a slow airplane.

Then there was that other story about the astronomers who have confirmed the existence of another solar system -- a star with planets revolving around it. I think I was supposed to be impressed.

But I've got to tell you that I'm not too impressed by a bunch of experts who tell me about a new solar system, but they can't make up their minds about the one we've got.

I had to learn about Pluto when I was in school right along with George Washington and Pharaoh Somebody-or-other. Now the same astronomers who are telling me about this new solar system are telling me maybe there really isn't a Pluto, or maybe it's there but it's not a planet.

Boy, talk about folks who deserve your confidence.

I suppose the next thing you'll read about is some historian saying George Washington wasn't really the Father of Our Country. He was just a farmer who did a bit of surveying when hog prices got real low. He never went to the Constitutional Convention or fought in the Revolutionary War. He just let his name go in the history books because everyone else was afraid this whole republic business would flop in a couple of years and then you'd want to be on England's good side.

When I go out at night at look up, I still get a kick out seeing the face of the man in the moon. I've even managed to spot Orion a couple of times, particularly real early in the morning during the summer.

But if I die without knowing all the particulars about a 14-billion-year-old star, am I going to be any worse off?

I can tell you one thing: I won't be eating my words about Pluto.

~R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.