Eclipse taps awe, ‘Darkside’ ideas, Moon Pie craving

Funny how so often the things we look forward to the most, and for which we are willing to shell out the most money and effort, are so often the things that go by the quickest.

You know where I’m going with that. Visitors from near and far descended upon the Natural State to witness an astronomical event that hadn’t been seen here in a while and won’t be seen again around here for a while … the long/much-ballyhooed April 8 Great Total Solar Eclipse of the sun. An event even greater than, say, a storewide 90%-off sale at Dillard’s would have been. An event the local and national news — and this newspaper — had been heralding for an eclipse-eternity.

I came away from the phenomenon with a stronger appreciation of the manifestation of God’s glory and a continuing craving for more of a treat I had not had in a very long time … Moon Pie.

Well, and thankfulness that the weather — often so unpredictable this time of year, and which was forecast to show its behind on us afterward — cooperated. (Had Riverfest, our late-great Memorial Day Weekend festival, still existed and had feelings, it might have been jealous.)

For those few minutes, the sun, well, got mooned.

The Hubster and I chose to observe the eclipse at a small party anchored in the lobby of our condo complex, a gathering that offered wine, lemonade and yes, mini-Moon Pies, of which Dre and I scarfed two apiece. (Strawberry flavor? Awesome.) We later joined an intimate group of fellow condo occupants out in the pool area, where we listened to music playing at eclipse-related festivities across the street as we awaited the Great Mooning.

Via the appropriate eclipse glasses — with which hey, you don’t see anything but an eclipse — we witnessed the moon making its moves on the sun, first taking a bite of a corner of it then encroaching on it more and more until it finally took the stage (almost like a seduction, but for Let’s Talk purposes, we’ll stick with calling it a mooning.) The beautiful day became darker, cooler, surreal-er.

One neighbor had the Channel 4 news commentary going on her phone. People began cheering on the broadcast, as well as across the street. Somebody should have been playing the main theme song from “2001: A Space Odyssey.”

And when we entered “total” totality, what did I do? My mind went to that doggone ’80s show “Tales from the Darkside,” the horror/fantasy/ sci-fi TV series marked by its distinctively creepy opening music, with the voice-over: “Man lives in the sunlit world of what he believes to be reality. But … there is, unseen by most, an underworld — a place that is just as real, but not as brightly lit … a dark side.” The pastoral nature scenes that had been showing (said online to be shots of the scenery off Route 30 outside Ligonier, Pa.) make a switch to an ominous negative-film image. Yes, for a fleeting moment I sat there and wondered if the darkened real-life scenery before me was going to turn into one big film negative. But no creepiness manifested. It was a dramatic, daytime-at-night scene that was the stuff of love stories, of fantasy films, of “Wait, will Mom still spank me for staying out after dark, even though it’s daytime?”-ness.

Again, so brief an event for so much hype. It soon began to lighten back up, and our little party dispersed. Dre’s and my nefarious plot to filch a couple more Moon Pies was foiled as there were no more in evidence when we went back in the building. An early dinner and a few leftover plain Easter M&Ms later, the music from across the street continued to play … and I still head Moon Pie on my mind.

’Twas worth it, but at least in my world, even it had to involve calories.

★ ★ ★

P.S. To those hundreds of couples who traveled to Russellville to get mass-married during totality, one of the big eclipse stories to make major headlines: You cannot ever divorce. If you do, you will cause the sun to go back and jack-slap the moon.

And on a serious note, Arkies, do please hasten to support your local independent eateries, which, according to reports, ordered extra food for local crowds that stayed home due to fear of traffic and visitors who apparently packed their own Moon-Pie lunches.