Remember that first big dream you had of what you’d be when you grew up? For all intents and purposes, let’s just say you wanted to be an astronaut. Most of us did anyway. Let’s take it one step further. When you were a little kid, you watched the lunar landing with your jaw on the floor and vowed that one day you would be an astronaut that walked on the moon too. (You were a little kid in the 60’s. Work with me people.) When you grew up, you did everything you had to do and became an astronaut. Even better, when NASA decided it wanted another manned Moon mission, it picked you to lead it and take a walk for yourself.

Fast forward a few months when you’re on the space shuttle, heading toward the moon that grows bigger by the minute. You’re dream is becoming a reality. You’re doing what you’ve wanted to do your entire life. Pretty soon you’ll actually be walking on the m- … Houston chirps in over the radio. They’re telling you the mission’s off. They’ve sunk enough money into this thing as it is, and going through with the rest of mission will only prove to be more financially disastrous. Screw your dream. The dream is over.

If you can put yourself in this theoretical astronaut’s shoes (he’s basically Tom Hanks in Apollo 13), you can begin to understand how Conan O’Brien must feel right about now. He’s wanted to sit in Johnny Carson’s Tonight Show chair for his entire life and he’s finally got the chance last June. Now, only seven months later, it’s being ripped away from him and there’s nothing he can do about it.

I’ve been mad about this late night abortion for the last week just like everybody else, but when I considered what this actually means for Conan O’Brien, I actually felt genuine pity and sympathy. All the guy wants to do is make people laugh, particularly by highlighting his own paleness and strange red hair. He can’t do that anymore in the place in which he had earned the right to do it. Nobody doubts that he’ll end up somewhere else and he’ll still be as funny as he ever was, but it’s a truly terrible thing that he won’t be able to continue to do so under the umbrella of The Tonight Show.

Some might argue that Conan had the chance to remain with The Tonight Show, but did he really have a choice? Jay Leno certainly doesn’t seem to have put up much of a fight when they moved him back to 11:35. Don’t be mad at him because NBC started this crazy roller coaster, but be mad at him for choosing to stay on it. After Jay moved back, Conan was then given the opportunity to still do his hour show starting one half-hour later. This would push back Jimmy Fallon Late Night, the program built by Conan himself, to 1:05. O’Brien couldn’t do this to Fallon because it would hurt the show he was promised. (Hmm, sounds like the reaction a certain other NBC host should have had.) He also couldn’t make the change because it compromised the legacy of the show he loves and respects. The NBC executives are like some twisted King Solomon that decided to split the late night kingdom in half for Leno and O’Brien, but Conan would rather see The Tonight Show in the hands of somebody else in its original form than in his own hands in a shattered form.

Because of this, it is undeniable how noble Conan O’Brien has been in his decision to leave NBC. While protecting the legacy of two late night television staples, he’s had to abandon a dream that, up until recently, it appeared had been realized. There’s no telling what’s next for the comic genius after his Tonight Show run ends. When he does resurface though, I hope all audiences support him in whatever he’s doing with an understanding of what he’s had to sacrifice. It might seem like dramatic language for the entertainment industry, but these kinds of actions, especially in that world, should never be overlooked.

Now to reference another Tom Hanks film: “And that’s all I have to say about that.”