Lunacy

What was up with people last night on my way to work? It seemed like all of the drivers on the road were in an extra hurry for some reason. Where was the fire? What was the rush? What was with all of the honking? This time the "beep beeps" were directed at other drivers, though a pubescent male voice akin to the zit-faced kid character in The Simpsons emitted from a small pickup with dark tinted windows and had something unintelligible (and most likely unintelligent) to say to me. It wasn't even worth turning around to hock a loogie on.

My questions were answered when I took my lunch break at Midnight. If it had not been cold out, I would have taken my shirt off on the way to get some tacos so I could get a nice moontan. The lunatics were out in full force with the Moon waxing to its last moments on the way to being full.

Some "scientific studies" decry the "full moon fever" as myth, but my guess is the persons doing this study were never involved in Public Safety. During my tenure as a 911 Dispatcher, I can honestly say that there is a correlation between the Full Moon and people being out of sorts. Personal experience also showed me that cloud cover had a tendency to keep the lunatics at bay (pun intended for werewolf fans), but if the clouds gave way to clear skies and that big hunk of green cheese started smiling down on its puppets, the strings were immediately yanked.

The Moon had sunk into the horizon before I pedaled home this morning and for this I was thankful. Now that the Moon had shown its face and had made its pawns give up the monthly show of their asses, the streets were just a little safer. While pedaling home, I couldn't help but think of a particular lunatic in Fayetteville, NC. The last time I had spoken with her was the last Full Moon I had experienced as a 911 Dispatcher in that fair city. I could have set my watch by her Full Moon call every month, reporting that her next door neighbor was "looking at me". There was comfort in knowing she isn't driving a car in Orange County.

JD