Thursday, September 15, 2005

I think Coldplay is the only band that deserves the moon as a venue.  Especially on a night like tonight, when it comes in through the windows and the trees like a spontaneous spotlight looking for entangled lovers.  Instead it finds me, alone in the living room, the last one up, just finishing Manhattan Melodrama and a little teary-eyed, not because it is finely-crafted tragedy but because there are no actors like William Powell and Myrna Loy anymore.  So I go to my bedroom and turn on the light, which flickers like ADD SOS, and on the flashes I develop a plan, which begins by locating the strawberry cigarillos and the queerly pink lighter.  I will give that moon the audience it desires.  I decide to take the Subaru instead of the Toyota (much more rugged, of course) and try to wheedle the garage door into sliding up serenely – it responds by clanging louder than before.  “Did you go somewhere at eleven last night?”  “Yes, mother, I did.”  “I thought I heard the garage go up at eleven.”  “Well that would be because you did.”  And I drive right out into the middle of the field like it’s a Catholic church carnival.

It is no less than lovely.  It looks like one of those day-for-night scenes in the 50’s version of South Pacific where the moonlight is so blue yet so bright that you know it can’t be real.  Except that it is real this time around and it makes me want to call every member of that cast and crew who’s still alive and tell them to haul their asses to East Troy, Wisconsin to see this moon that looks like that scene.  If I could I wouldn’t.  I light the cigarillo, which seems redundant since it’s such a brisk night that I can see my breath anyway, and the 2001-ish notes of “Square One” ascend my eardrums, in a moment brought to you by iPod.  I climb onto the roof of the Subaru with sandals made wet and squeaky by the evening and watch.

Immediately it’s enough to be watching, as it always is, because God made this.  And he made Chris Martin to sing about this.  And even if He’s just made me for this moment – if that’s all I’m ever good for, or a part of – that’s all right.  I’m glad He thought of me when He created this moment.

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