The Super Moon

                                           The Super Moon

         Meteorologists, t.v. weathermen and pundits of all types have been hyping the arrival of the “super Moon” in the third week of November. It’s close proximity was supposed to give it the appearance of being 30% larger than a normal full moon and its like will not be seen for another sixty years.

          As usual, the prognosticators were, like most of the pollsters in the last presidential election, were a tad more enthusiastic in their predictions than the reality. The “badger moon” was full and bright, glistening in the darkened velvet sky. But it didn’t look like some monster moon careening towards earth from outer space. It looked normal, like it does at every full moon. Perhaps it seemed even a bit smaller than the harvest moon of early Fall.

            It brought to mind the lyrics of an old and favorite song from Credence Clearwater Revival.

“ I see a bad moon rising.

I see trouble on the way.

I see earthquakes and lightnin'.

I see bad times today.

Don't go around tonight,

Well it's bound to take your life,

There's a bad moon on the rise.”

            It made me wonder at all of the many people, throughout the ages, who have gazed upon the rising moon and read into its luminance dire omens of imminent disaster. I wonder why that is? When we see a brightened sun rising, we predict a fresh day dawning and envisioin the promise of good things happening. Why does the moon get such a bad rap and the sun basks in all its fiery glory?

             Perhaps because the moon presides over a mantle of darkness, a projection screen for every human fear and trepidation that we have assembled since childhood. During daylight all of these hidden fears vanish with the dawn. Monsters don’t like the light, I guess. Perhaps it is an inherited skin condition that makes them irritable when they are exposed to the light. Nobody wants an irritable, bad-tempered monster roaming around the neighborhood, do they?

         For now, I will amp up that wonderful old CCR tune and remember days long past when the soft splendor of the moon glistened off a shining sea, in some far away place on a sandy beach under a tropical palm. I know monsters are not allows there because the salty air irritates their skin.

           So, go ahead and gaze upon the rising moon and think what you will of what it means or what memories you attach to it. Our interest keeps the t.v. weather guys from making even sillier predictions about other possible calamities headed our way. And maybe we ought to leave some skin conditioner lying around, in case some foul-tempered monster is having a bad day.

                                           -30-

                                     (458 words)

                                Joseph Xavier Martin