Once in a blue moon

I want a boat. Nothing fancy. Just a used pontoon boat. Something that will take me out to the bay and maybe even over to the little island around the jetty where I can have a picnic lunch or supper or perhaps even a breakfast and then come home again.

I can't afford it. Well, not right now. Maybe next year. I wish.

As my grandmother used to say, "Wishes don't wash dishes." We're saving up for it. It may mean that I have to postpone my longed-for trip to Nepal in two years - I so want to climb part of Katmandu - but, well, I'll save up for that again, too.

It will happen. It will just take some time.

Right now, we're renting out our dock to a couple who have what I want. I have what they need. It's a "mutual envious society". We make it work.

They're in their late 50s. Coupla grown kids. A few grandchildren.  It's a small pontoon. Nothing fancy. They go out on it as often as they can. Who could blame them?

Last night, Theo insisted on going out again at 11:30. He rarely does that. Usually, one last "constitutional" at 10 or 10:30 and he's good until morning.

I think it was the Blue Moon.

I was in my jammies so I just walked him around the yard. As I came 'round the corner of the house, I noticed that the boat was missing. My instant reaction was one of concern, but then I remembered that there was a Blue Moon high in the sky. I looked up at it and smiled. Good for them, I thought.

I looked out on the water and saw a light coming closer. It was their boat. Back before midnight. My grandmother used to say, "Nothing good happens after midnight." Maybe they knew my grandmother.

Theo did his business and then sniffed and dawdled, which gave me time to enjoy the moon. It was beautiful, sitting high above the water. Theo stopped to look at what I was looking at. We stood there for a few minutes, Theo sitting at my feet, basking in the light of the moon, soaking up its rays.

As I came 'round the corner again, I met up with the couple. They were holding hands and whispering and giggling softly to each other. As they came closer, I could smell the beer and the sex. They seemed oblivious to it, like they were holding onto some secret that no one else could know.

They greeted me - speech just a little slurred and gait just ever so tipsy - and we exchanged salutations and pleasantries.

"Looks like you two had yourselves some fun," I said.

They smiled and gushed and giggled like teenagers caught by a policeman.

"Yes, we did," said the man, holding the woman close to him.

"Good for you!," I said. "What a perfect night for two lovers to take a boat ride in the light of the moon."

Ah, they were busted! Again, these 50-somethings giggled like teenagers.

"Yeah, I got lucky tonight," he said, grinning.

"Me, too," she said, giggling just a little too loudly. 

"A Blue Moon," he said, and started to sing that silly 50s Sha-Na-Na version of the song. "Blue Moon....you saw me standing alone...without a dream in my heart....without.... something, something, something.. Babababa, bababababa, bababababa.....Blooooooo Mooooooon."

We all laughed at his silliness and tried to understand why that song is so endearing.

"Well," I said, "tonight is a night for dreamers and lovers and sillies and fools. Enjoy yourselves."

"Ya got to, honey" said the man, "every once in a Blue Moon." And then they giggled and went back to the little golf cart and back home.

I took Theo back into the house and as he sat so I could undo his leash, he looked up at me as if to say, "Don't worry, Mama. In three years, when the next Blue Moon comes, we'll be out on a boat."

I looked at him and said, "Everybody has to have a dream. And, sometimes, if you work for it and you're lucky, dreams really do come true. Every once in a Blue Moon."