Last night, Liz and I went to a party in Travis Heights at the home of a friend of some friends. Late in the evening the host gave some of us a tour of the house, which featured a deck on the roof.
As you know, we had a blue moon on New Year’s Eve, and we were discussing this phenomenon.
Several in our group were curious about the exact nature of a blue moon. Ever the pedant, I was happy to drop science.
“Any time there are two full moons in a month,” I explained, “the second is called a blue moon.”
“Hmm,” one of our party mused. “Is there any significance to a blue moon?”
“Not really,” I said. “It just indicates a second full moon in a month.”
“How often does that happen?” she asked.
What could I say? Mere minutes into the new year, she was handing me a totally sweet setup. For about a nanosecond I wrestled with my inner smartass and, as usual, he won. I almost hated to do it to her, but a setup like this is rare. I paused, letting her question hang just long enough for the group to process it.
“Oh,” I said, “once in a blue moon.”
And I wonder why I don’t get invited to more parties.