Black is the New Orange

Image courtesy of NASA, even the Skipah designation.

Where in the hell has the Skipah gone?  Hard core criminals housed in Supermax prisons are seeing more action lately than my little digital love child.  Many reasons can contribute to the proverbial cricket noises being heard from here, looking for a job is hard work, trying to not sleep 18 hours a day is definitely a chore, trying to keep up with Miss Madison’s chore list is a full time job in itself, and I had another party to plan.  No more weddings, receptions, or honeymoons, more like a different kind of party.  A party like none other that has happened in decades.  

If I had any foresight, vision, or entrepreneurial skills, I would have already had a job in anticipation for this party.  Did you know these beauties are being hawked in my area for about a 200% markup?  Since I know nobody clicked on that I’ll just tell you, it’s ISO Certified Solar Eclipse glasses.  A must have unless you enjoying living life like Ray Charles for the impending solar eclipse that is taking place on August 21 locally at approximately 2:27 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time.  My profit margin alone on a few shipments of these would have me eating filet mignon and imported caviar for the foreseeable future.  

This person beat me to the punch!

That’s right, Skipah has the Iheart Eclipse Party Radio jamming on all decibels sitting in his outdoor writing studio and going over the guest list for his solar eclipse party.  My abode of Madison, Indiana is damn near ground zero for true totality.  Depending on who you listen to, 93%-95% of the sun is going to take a little siesta behind the moon for a short period right outside my front door.  If I was feeling brave, or stupid depending on who you listen to, I would try to get to Hopkinsville, Kentucky to experience the true totality of 100% for over two minutes.  Miss Madison just reminded me that would entail me WILLINGLY visiting Kentucky, and even a once in a lifetime event isn’t going to change my mind on that.

Spent most of my unemployed life of two months perfecting this!  Citronella candles for 200, Alex!

Plus, I hate sitting in traffic more than I hate lawyers, so I think I will just throw my own little party in my Hoosier border town.  Miss Madison has already secured a half day of work for herself (since her employer bought recalled glasses for the students and didn’t want to take the risk), and my contacts at NASA (that’s my story and I’m sticking to it) have made sure we have the approved eyewear for the big event.  Last minute invitations were sent to my New England contacts, but then they heard the weather is going to be in the mid-90s and bailed on me.  My buddy in Texas apparently doesn’t know a chance to reach geek superstardom when it hit him in the face, but I won’t hold it against him, having a child is well “kind of a big deal.”  Even hit up my peeps in California, but they politely reminded me that Albany, Oregon is much closer to see the eclipse first hand.

So I guess it will be just Miss Madison, me, and the locals staring at each other in the dark for a few minutes.  Which will probably be a welcome sight for my neighbors, since they are quickly getting sick and tired of seeing me every day.  Don’t worry, neighbors. the feeling is mutual, I miss just seeing them in the evening also.  That reminds me, I need to follow up on that ophthalmology  position with Senator Rand Paul’s National Ophthalmic Board.  Sure it’s a semi-bogus degree in all things eyes, but I’m guessing Tuesday morning the number of folks that are seeing spots is going to triple.  I might as well call that my job!  

If anybody is in the Skipahsphere though, feel free to stop in and say hi.  We will be offering complimentary Blue Moon bottles (see what I did there) for everyone and before the day is over, you can bet your bottom dollar we will be karaoking to some Black Hole Sun.  You in the corner, step back, because I’m on fire!  If the complimentary Blue Moon isn’t your thing, don’t worry, we will have cases of Sunkist on hand also.  In case I didn’t mention, it is going to be something close to 95 degrees for the party so instead of grilling out burgers and hot dogs and sweating to death, we are just going to stock up on Moon Pies and that will be the food of choice for the fiesta.  I better stop while I’m ahead, Miss Madison is starting to think this is cornier than Indiana farmlands in September.

Admission is free, just make sure you bring your own viewing glasses because, as I mentioned, they are “Hotter than the sun” (apologies to Marcy Playground), in my little sector of the planet.  The first person that can find a “blister in the sun,” (thank you, thank you, I’ll be here all week) wins an autographed copy of my used hat from my former employer.  I don’t need it anymore, but thankfully I don’t have lice or any other hair ailments.  Yes, Miss Madison, I do have a receding hairline, must you always remind me!  It would make a great conversation piece at your next dinner party or if you suffer from male pattern baldness if you are the lucky winner.  Wait, never mind, I just learned a receding hairline is male pattern baldness!  Damn it, I hate getting old!  I may need that hat after all, I guess I could auction off my 2017 Cincinnati Reds playoff tickets to the winner…….if you follow baseball let that sink in for a second and get back to me.

About it for now, I better get to bed.  It’s going to be a bigly day, and I need to make sure I rest my eyes!  If you are in the eclipse zone, take precaution and don’t be an idiot.  Your OAKLEY’S aren’t enough protection from getting your eyes fried!  Now it’s off to bed for me so I can make sure Miss Madison still finds me “Brighter than the sun!”