A ritual we always partake in here in central Illinois, especially just as the huge and somewhat red harvest moon shows itself and rises just above the evergreen lined horizon, we all bend over and view the moon backwards and upside-down from between our legs. That destroys the optical illusion that the moon is bigger than at any other time or date on the calendar or at any other position in the sky---and the rising moon looks as large as, well, maybe a dime. Then we stand straight up and, when the blood has finally drained from our heads, we share a joint and run joyously and laughingly towards our own little beds where we tumble in and do whatever you all might imagine.

Of course, we are all covered, from head to toe, with "luna"ticks.

We all fall asleep with visions of lyme disease dancing in our heads. That depresses us so much we can't get it on. So we do it without a c....m .

Art Thieme