Mooning About

I was up very early this morning, gazing and howling at that big ol' searchlight of a moon. Anyone else remember to howl? I pondered several things in my pseudo somnambulescent state.

As I was driving to work yesterday morning, I heard an ad on the radio advertising a housing development. The key line was, "Like The Truman Show, everything is perfect." That, right there, pretty much seals me against buying into it (lack of lotto winnings aside). Life on The Truman Show was far from perfect. It was horrible. Truman was the harbinger of the reality TV that most of the world goes nuts over now. The thing is, Truman didn't know that he was on TV and everyone who surrounded him was false, everyone lied to him. Obviously, the ad creator never really watched the movie. I wonder if that ad has sold any homes.


Last month in my various gypsy travels, I saw some road warning signs. They read: Elk Migration path, next 3 miles. I wondered how the elk knew to stay within that three miles. "Hey... no, Bob! Get back here... that's over the 3 mile line, you fool!" or "Psst... Jonesy... dare ya to cross at 3.2 miles..." And what if there had been a herd of 'em crossing just on the other side of the sign? I'd have had no warning at all, really. What's the freakin' point? Are we so out of touch with the possibility of wildlife? After all, we're cruising through their home at 70+ miles an hour.


I watched a fascinating show on the History Channel last night, titled: Life After People. I'd recommend it to everyone. In fact, I urge you to watch it when it comes on again. It was about what will happen to the world when people are wiped off the planet, and how the world will rejuvenate; how the wildness of nature will take back what's hers. We need to be more care full - although, in my humble opinion, it's already too late.


At 46 years old, with everything I've been through, I feel better about life than I ever have. Even with tears still close enough to the surface, even though small things can still send me into a spin, I'm just plain thrilled to be here. Maybe it's comes of letting that tambourine bangin' gypsy out into the light. Maybe she's just a by product. I talked to my Mom last night and she commented on how happy and healthy I sound. I told her it's because I'm finally letting my inner gypsy run free. (Recall that Mom shared my initial gypsy experience in 1972.) She chuckled and said, "Good lord, don't get too wild!" I told her not to worry; I wasn't planning to steal any chickens. She ended with, "Keep doing whatever it is you're doing. It's obviously working. This is your time." Those are big words coming from Mom - she's not known for waxing philosophical.


My inner cranial turntable has been playing Shawn Mullins, All In My Head, over and over again:Is it all in my head?Is it all in my head?Can everything be ok without me knowin'?


So it is, it's all ok: This is my time. This little nanosecond of forever that's allotted to me... I dig it.