Drunk in Indiana

...she's a killer queen/gunpowder gelatine/dynamite with a laser beam/guaranteed to blow your mind/anytime....

Rabbit and I regard one another. He raced out to ten yards of where I sit, froze, staring, nose pointed at me, eyes on either side, so he couldn't see me well. He turns, his round brown eye gazing at every twitch and scratch I make in the moist and insect-ladden evening. Both of us still, we wait, standoff in the green green clover grass, sound of mower music from a neighboring yard. I wonder which of us will break first.

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Lisa makes margaritas, and before I've finished, daiquiris. Mmmmm.

"The sirens will stir them all up. You should be able to hear them now."

Coyotes. Steven. Stars.

Oh...My...God.

Stars.

"Is that Jupiter?"

"I think so. We'll know for sure in a minute."

A few minutes...

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"It looks like you're looking through that telescope-y thingy at that bright shiny thing in the sky."

"Riiiiiiiiiiight. You're SO smart."

'Kay.

The sky whirls around me, stars making me dizzy, dizzy. There's the Big Dipper. I look for the Southern Constellations.

"Okay. Now, you should be able to see three of the moons."

I could only see two: think they were Callisto and Ganymede. Can I look at the sky without looking for Jupiter? Kidding, right? And remembering the names of the moons is now second nature. My thanks to the friend who taught them to me. You are with me whenever I see the night sky.


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Well, wouldja look at this. It's Wednesday AGAIN, canya believe it?

So guess what time it is.

Yep, time for the Political Animal.

And for The Pain.

(I don't have the link today, because I'm drunk, but goddamn it, go to Amazon and buy his book.)

And time for you to exercise your Free Will.