Trapped in the Walmart parking lot like Shackleton in an ice pack. People saying stupid things.Read part I
A failed coffee expedition. Indian Casino. Taking my chances on the icy highway.
Trapped in the Walmart parking lot like Shackleton in an ice pack. People saying stupid things.Read part I
A failed coffee expedition. Indian Casino. Taking my chances on the icy highway.

BANG!!!
The Moon was a disco ball encrusted with countless looking glass tiles. He flung His dazzling mirrors, one by one, into the infinite black where they would blaze in Orion’s belt and the tip of the Lessor Bear’s tail. His final jewel cast, the Moon was a naked, shivering satellite dutifully circling and tending to the tides of his lush, green ever-evolving sibling.
The Moon did not expect visitors any more than a forgotten wrinkled face, enduring behind a gray curtain would. When Apollo came calling, the Moon was hopeful the mission’s purpose was to attach new mirrors, but Apollo found His dusty surface too loose and scarred with craters to renovate.
There is an old saying regarding ascent and descent. The credit goes to Sir Isaac,1 but no one is ancient enough to prove it except for the Moon and He is mute on all subjects. A proverb does not require aging to axiom perfection before the wisdom it holds can be observed. And also, ignored. Generations of brave fools have climbed too high without giving gravity its due. Bucktoothed Shepard all but laughed in the face of the adage until he and Freedom were somewhere over the Soviets.
With the sweet frost of Kendal Mint Cake still on his breath, Hillary planted his flag atop the world and observed how cold, lonely and empty an ultimate achievement at all costs can be, his Sherpa2 served as witness. Apollo’s calories were freeze-dried yet packed with enough joules per square inch to power the stabbing of the national flag into the cheek of the lunar frontier. Armstrong echoed Hillary, more or less, before he snapped a photo of his witness, Buzz. And like a kitten up a tree, a cello student up a scale, the intrepid explorers wondered if they would ever get back down. Newton to the rescue!
The Moon was out early today. Half of his pale, pocked face peeked around a corner of afternoon blue like a pale child curious about the day, curious why so many chose to toil in the heat of the sun when a cool night was only an hour away. A capsule of steel cruised beneath his round chin, icy contrails drifting like white smoke from the engines The Moon, well, he paid it no mind:
"I was once a disco ball,
care not I
What shall rise
What shall shine
And what then shall fall."
Footnotes
Author Note: Lunacy or the condition of being a Lunatic was once blamed on the phases of the moon. Like so much of our vocabulary, the word has its roots in ancient Latin: Lunar i.e. the moon. According to this legend, at one point during lunation women become hysteric and people are transformed into werewolves before embarking on murderous rampages, metaphorically speaking, e.g. homo homini lupus (there is some more Latin for kids). Pink Floyd makes a reference to “keeping lunatics off the grass and on the path” in their Dark Side of the Moon Opus. There must be some lunacy influencing any decision made to climb a mountain or blast off into the void. There is something transformative about the haunting silver of a full moon, though. For more on this topic, review Holiday’s recording of “What a Little Moonlight Can Do” Brunswick 7498 1935 as 78 rpm single. 1954 album titled Billie Holiday, Clef Records (catalog number 89132×45).

Risk, the classic board game of world conquest. The secret to winning is to occupy Australia first as players begin to place their armies. The less experienced invariably chose more colorful locations like England and Egypt but those mythical lands are vulnerable to foreign attack whereas Australia is the only isolated territory on the board. Launch your invasions from the land down under and victory will be yours. As it is true in history, it is true in Risk, Ukraine is a terrible place to find yourself defending. Like wind off the steppe, alien hordes periodically sweep across Ukraine’s fertile plains, stopping long enough to gorge themselves on her ample wheat before steamrolling West to plunder the Gold. If you are lucky enough to be hundreds of miles away from the current upheaval, my advice is to stock up on staples: dried beans, rice, coffee, bottled water and wine before the prices get too high or there is simply nothing on the shelves. Hunker down in your own private Australia for a while and work on that project that has been collecting dust because you have been too busy binge watching reality shows. That novel isn’t going to finish itself. Who is going to pluck the right phrases out of the air and assemble them into poems if not you? Tàpies did not have a staff of brush monkeys to do the work for him. Ravel did not own a synthesizer. When the fighting stops and the world returns to whatever we accept as normalcy you will be ready to strike from your isolation and be triumphant.
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