Yesterday, an Amazon package reached new heights—literally. A Blue Origin spacecraft, part of Jeff Bezos’ space-tourism venture, successfully delivered its VIP cargo to the Kármán line, the official edge of space. On board were Bezos’ fiancée, Lauren Sánchez, along with an all-female crew including Katy Perry and Gayle King, who enjoyed a brief three-minute float in zero gravity. Perry even serenaded the group with “What a Wonderful World,” while Earthbound A-listers like Oprah Winfrey, Kris Jenner, and Khloé Kardashian watched what might be called the first billionaire girls’ trip to space.

Plenty of people will scoff at this joyride, and I understand why. With wars, famines, and crises plaguing the planet, shelling out a small country’s GDP for a few minutes of weightlessness seems like peak human distraction. But as Oprah wisely noted, “Life is about growing into the fullest expression of yourself”—even if that expression involves a $250,000 ticket to the stratosphere.

This mission marked the first all-female space crew since 1963, a genuine milestone—though it was hard to ignore the blatant commercialism. From the merch available online to Sánchez’s much-discussed Skims bodysuit under her flight gear, the branding was inescapable. (And yes, someone was heard saying, “I love you, Jeff Bezos” mid-flight.)

Then there’s Katy Perry. A pop star in space feels like the logical endpoint of celebrity culture—simultaneously epic and absurd. Holding up a daisy (her daughter’s name) to the cosmos? Silly. Dramatically kissing the ground upon return? Also silly. Yet somehow, it was endearing. Watching Orlando Bloom and little Daisy waiting on the tarmac was downright sweet.

There’s something undeniably thrilling about civilians—people like us—venturing into space. Perry’s musing that we’re all “made of stardust” might sound corny, but she’s not wrong. Space captivates us because it reminds us of our own smallness, our childhood awe at the universe’s vastness.

Commercial space travel is here, and despite my skepticism, I can’t help but be excited. It’s expensive, risky, and maybe even a little reckless (let’s hope it doesn’t go the way of the Titan sub). It’s the dream of 2001: A Space Odyssey colliding with the potential chaos of a zero-gravity Fyre Festival. But no matter how frivolous it seems—no matter how much Katy Perry leans into the absurdity—space is still undeniably cool. Rockets, you’ll always be famous.