The Boston Diaries

The ongoing saga of a programmer who doesn't live in Boston, nor does he even like Boston, but yet named his weblog/journal “The Boston Diaries.”

Go figure.

Sunday, November 04, 2001

Werewolves of Coconut Creek, Hellmouth in Margate

Ring.

“Hello?”

“Sean? This is Mark. You gotta check out the moon.”

“What?”

“The moon.”

“Why?” Oh no, I thought. It's turned blood red. The Apocalypse is neigh upon us! It's hard to shake that Baptist upbringing.

“There's this incredible halo around the moon! You have to see it! I've never seen anything like it!”

“Cool! Call you back in a few.” I hung up; Spring and I headed outside and we looked up. The sky is clear except for a very light haze which was causing the halo effect.

“It's beautiful,” said Spring, lying down on the grass.

“It looks like a Q” I said, pointing to a small cloud just hanging off the halo.

Spring giggled, and we continued to stare at the sky—Spring lying on the grass and me still standing.

“Does it look lopsided to you?” I asked.

“What, the moon?”

“No, the halo.”

“No. I think that's because you're having to look up. Why don't you try lying down?”

I lay down on the grass. “Great,” I said. “Now I have pesticides all over my back.”

“Then you don't have to worry about bed bugs, do you?” said Spring. We continued to look at the moon and halo. Some wispy clouds passed in front of the moon. “That is so beautiful,” said Spring.

“Oh nice. Now the werewolfs are going to come out and attack us,” I said.

“What?”

“Werewolfs. Whenever a werewolf attack is imminent in a film, they always cut to a shot if thin wispy clouds flying by the moon.”

“But dear,” said Spring. “We're in Coconut Creek.”

“I did mention the Hellmouth in Margate.”

“Ah yes, you did.”

“You're not worried?”

“No.”

I love Spring.

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[The future's so bright, I gotta wear shades]

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