At age 6, I marveled as news from Apollo 11 unfolded on our massive – at least by 1969 standards – 24-inch console color TV. I’m nearly certain it was heavier than the Datsun 310-GX that I acquired in 1981.

That TV was solid. The Datsun was not. The set doubled as a piece of furniture, which included the fancy woodgrain look of the time period. Framed photos were placed atop the TV, along with a bowl of plastic fruit. I used to snatch a few of the plastic grapes and throw them at various things, including the family cat.

We got 13 channels, cable, mind you. ABC was 13, CBS 5 and NBC 4. The rest of the lineup was about as worthless as the woodgrain cabinet, or the Datsun. I remember watching “Leave It To Beaver,” “The Flintstones,” “The Munsters” and other quality programs on that old set. Every now and then, a TV repairman would show up with some kind of rings, which he waved in front of it to adjust the color. I thought he was some kind of quack, but then again, I was only 6.

Beatles movies were hot programming at the time, along with Hula-Hoop and cigarette commercials, ice cream trucks, bell bottom pants and shaggy haircuts. Riots were common on the news. There were no riots in my hometown of Central City, so those were interesting to watch as well. As hobbies, we threw water balloons and dirt clods.

So the drama of the 1969 lunar landing coverage was even more compelling, since nothing much exciting ever seemed to happen in our Mayberry-ish existence.

The TV in question sat on shag carpeting, which was deep enough to feel great under your feet and also thick enough to hide dropped sewing needles or any small, sharp objects. It wasn’t all that safe to walk through the living room.

Nevertheless, we had to get to the moon before the Russians, I remember thinking while inside my Batman tent pitched nearby. I’m not sure why. There was no cheese there. Daffy Duck had testified as much on a cartoon.

But I soaked up as much of the news commentary as possible and remember awaiting the signals from the crew.

There was that familiar “chirp” during the radio transmission, followed by Walter Cronkite’s commentaries. There wasn’t a shaggy-carpeted home in the U.S. not in tune to the developing story. I don’t know this for a fact, but I’m pretty sure. I consulted my Magic 8-Ball, which replied: “Yes.”

Nostalgia from that day in 1969 was unleashed this week as NASA provided a link to radio transmission recordings online. A video of the day’s events also is available to watch. I watched part of it. Men and women, mostly men, sat in front of blue desks, monitoring some kind of stuff related to the mission. Every now and then, someone would say something I didn’t understand. Mostly, there was quiet in the control room until the big moment when “the Eagle has landed” was uttered and changed everyone’s perspective. We had actually landed on another planet, er, moon.

Once the astronauts were on the surface, I ran outside to see if I could see them on the moon’s surface. I looked up. No sign of ’em.

Maybe it was all a ruse. The ring-toting repairman probably was in on it.

Anyway, it was major fun and a magnificent moment in history that I was able to witness on our old reliable TV.