Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Eclipse

As I was driving to work this morning I heard on the radio that there would be a total lunar eclipse tonight.

Yes, I was driving to work. The jingle business has been tough, so I took a temporary position as a music teacher (kindergarten through 8th grade) at a private school. I also spent the entire month of December working for two professional caroling companies. And, umm, dog-sitting.

Yes, I know I haven't written for four months. All that I can say in my defense is that four is my lucky number. Don't nag.

My recent financial adventures have kept me afloat, but I still consider myself a jingle writer, which means that I'll have to get back on the horse once again come March and hope for better winds.

The lunar spectacle was already underway when I went outside. The radio man told me 7:00, but a phone call around 6:30 alerted me that the sky was falling and I rushed outside. Sure enough Luna was already gleaming red, like my roommate's face after half a Pilsner. And though I speak about these things light-heartedly, there really was a distant kind of majesty about the moon as it drifted solemnly towards eclipse. Pink, and then red, and then suddenly chunks of it were disappearing, little by little, until the moon gave in to a moment of perfect obscurity, disappearing for a brief moment. Just how long I know not; I was on the phone again, meaning maybe I'm out of sync with the universe and all that is beautiful.

But maybe not. Because I opted to stay put in the parking lot of the neighboring apartment complex for awhile rather than drive to grab dinner. Even though there wasn't much doing, and my phone calls were finished, I felt like staying. And sure enough, like clockwork, a strange couple stumbled up the street to join me. Their baggy clothing smelled like dirt and cigarettes, but they seemed nice enough. When they greeted me I made a place for them to stand next to me and pointed out the receding eclipse, perhaps by way of precluding any topic of conversation closer than the cosmos. But when the conversation inevitably got a bit more personal, and I told them my name, the gentleman of the couple (husband or friend, I know not) said I was a guardian angel. And at that precise moment, surrounded by vagrants and even slightly fearful, not to mention worn down by a horrible day at work and an equally potent bout of flu; the cigarette smell, the difference in age and class and fortune and all these things that make me uncomfortable; even with all these things, I felt like I was exactly where I wanted to be.

That's what happened tonight. Here's what else I want to catch you up on:

1) The Ailing Jingle Market, and other causes of professional malady

2) A Holiday Season Spent in Ascot, and other reasons I didn't starve in December

3) I Want to Shoot Myself, and other reflections on substitute teaching

4) Finally, My New Band

(Ah, yes. I have a band now.)

(Talk to you soon.)

2 comments:

Francesca said...

I occasionally stop by your blog to catch up on things with you, albeit a one-sided catching up, and was pleasantly surprised to see that you had (finally) written. Do more of that, please, and if it means anything I don't smell and I think you're a guardian angel too.

Tim Hahn said...

ok... first... I don't drink Pilsner. i drink all kinds of beer, but I've never had a pilsner in my life. secondly, I didn't tell you, but I chose the WRONG SIDE of the airplane on my flight to San Francisco... apparently everyone on the RIGHT (both literally and figuratively) side of the plane got to see the eclipse while I stared bitterly towards the West out of my window seat...