November 3, 2007
"The devil's in the moon for mischief." - Lord Byron (from Don Juan)
When I awoke this morning, I realized that I had survived the week of the Full Hunter Moon with minimal damage.
The Hunter Moon is the name for the full moon following the Harvest Moon in September. Folklore and studies of lunar effect tell us that the full moon is responsible for accidents, crime, and fertility as well as numerous other events such as increased aggression by professional hockey players and sleepwalking.
Personally I don't want any of these.
I do have a few scars though from this past week that I can only attribute to the full moon.
For instance, I learned just this week in the light of the full moon that I have a new syndrome. I am sorry to tell you fellow baby boomers that yes, indeed, there is another new syndrome, and I have it.
Phantom cell phone syndrome!
Symptoms include a sense of vibration somewhere on your body and a ringtone melody in your ears even when you have no cell phone nearby.
In my humble opinion, this proves my theory that all modern syndromes are really a chicken and egg riddle. Which came first, the ailment or the syndrome?
But I digress; back to the effect of the Hunter Moon on my week.
One son brought a lovely young woman to meet the family. It turned out to be, thanks to a few screwups on our part, "Meet the Fockers". I am fairly certain we were the Fockers.
A relative sent me a link a to delightful website with delectable Christmas cookie recipes that completely depressed me. I presume I am to start getting ready for Christmas now. This could turn out to be worse than aggressive hockey players.
We went to a college football game where a rabid, moon-crazed fan yelled like a banshee throughout four entire quarters. My college kiddos saw the opportunity and recorded her rantings, unbeknown to her. They took video as well as audio on their cell phones and will no doubt use these recordings for a hilarious new ringtone to share with their college buddies, or send the video to YouTube.
I am so proud.
My husband came home with an 8x10 color glossy print of his shed and asked me for a frame. Ok. I know he is proud of his shed, but there is no way in a full moon that we are hanging that on any wall in this house. I told him he could hang it in his shed. End result: a compromise allowing the shed photo to reside temporarily on the refrigerator.
And speaking of the refrigerator, when did all those magnets grow back? I have cleaned them off at least twice.
If any of this sounds remotely familiar to you, then as an old Irish blessing says, "May you have a full moon on a dark night."
