The TV show I wanna see, (Fall premiere, second season), doesn’t start for another 20-30 minutes. Remembering to put on shoes this time, I head for the chair in front of the house, gripping a full cup of the “Elixir of Knowledge”.
Not a cloud in the sky. It’s like a perfect 50-yardline seat at Lambeau. And the moon has another 15-20 minutes before it rolls behind the row of tall red pines next to Grandma Alice’s house. Perfect.
(She’s not related, Grandma Alice – we all just call her that. Well, we used to. She passes away about 2 years ago. At the age of 99 years and about 10 months. Quite the lady.)
The Man in the Moon stares at me. I stare at him. We’re having a pretty good conversation overall. I take my third swallow of the Elixir which excavates a long forgotten nugget of scientific information.
The moon has no light of its own. Well, duh. Sometimes those nuggets are fool’s gold.
Now I remember an album I once had back when I had hair. The 2nd Chapter of Acts is backing up Barry McGuire. Barry is talking about Christians reflecting God’s light and how he wants to be a "full moon". I think the album cover had him in a t-shirt with a full moon on it. For the younger crowd, I’m talking the old vinyl albums, here. The big ones.
Wondering what “phase” I might be in, I fall into a time of personal “reflection”. (Sorry.)
Huh.
The last week had me pretty well waxed or waned. Not full, I’m afraid. Not even close.
Well, there’s no shadow of turning with my Light source. Any turning would be on me.
I’ve a tendency to go to the dark side. No, Luke - the moon, I mean. Me and Pink Floyd.
A fourth pull of Elixir and a revelation hits me. This train of thought might give a whole new meaning to the concept of Moonies.
Huh.
Maybe . . .