It was perfect. I was gonna share it. You were gonna like it. Now it's gone, and you like nothing. Well I suppose you like somethings, but those are yours and private. They're not a shared moment. I tried to share a moment with Gumby, but even he was disappointed. That's ok, I'm fine. With the help of a setaline torch Gumby's returned to a little green slab of clay.
"I'll get you my Gumby, and your pony pal Pokey too!"
Last night, as I wrapped up my work, I watched the news. Some people find it disturbing to listen to music, and watch TV at the same time. Normally I do, but when the music is work, sometimes I need the distraction.
One of the reporters came on talking about the total lunar eclipse, He said something about "red ring" and it sounded cool. So At 2:30 am I stopped work and went outside. The moon was dwindling, down to a gouda wedge. I grabbed my camera, took some pictures, and prayed for the best. The best wasn't good enough; the pictures didn't turn out. Small blurry white spec and darkness didn't begin to express the event in the sky. The moon glowing like a searing chestnut. That was not in my picture. My picture was nothing.
So many things aren't like what you see in the picture. Especially when dealing with an armature like myself. Real events unfold and all you get to see are foreheads and thumbprints, and shoe shots. It's up to you to take the images and turn them into memories you can see in your head.
My camera needed more light, a better zoom, a better handler to see the magic.
But I saw it. With my eyes I watched, and if I could relay it to you, I would.
As darkness overtook the moon, I wondered how I could relate that to my blog. I whine about everything being about my divorce; how was this about my divorce? It was time to turn on my inner Californian.
Ever notice that? Anytime something happens anywhere in the world, Californians make it all about themselves.
A train derailed in Scotland.
A local manufacturer made the batting in the seats.
A 12 year old in Brazil set a swimming record.
She flew over California on a plane once.
Everything's always about us.
Sometimes things happen. It's not about Californian, and Sometimes eclipses happen and it isn't about my divorce.
But it should be. It's my life, my moon, I need to own it.
Maybe I do, but maybe I should accept it for what it is: A beautiful wonder. I watched the moon change from a pristine white orb to a dark crimson corona. Not everything is a metaphor for my life.
I'd tell you MyUnwife and I used to watch that type of thing, but that's a lie. We didn't. I think we watched a meteor shower once.
It's not that she didn't like that type of stuff, in fact, if an eclipse happened 7pm, I wouldn't be surprised to hear she watched it. It's just not what WE did, and I can take comfort in that.
I now have a fiery chestnut all my own. Maybe there's somebody else out there who saw it. Maybe I can share it with them. Then again maybe not. What matters now is it's mine and nobody in California can take that from me.
Even if things aren't what they appear to be. An eclipse, is like a visual negative image. It looks like it's about one thing, but it's about something else. A metaphor.
Maybe someday I'll look back and see God's grand metaphor here, but right now, I'm outside, I'm too close, and I can't even share it with you.
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