A light that shines

First off, I’ve gotta admit, the eclipse was pretty cool.

I know, I know. Traffic stunk, temporary lodging rates were ridiculous and there were crowds, which I typically hate (again, I love humanity; it’s people I’m ambivalent about).

But, you have to acknowledge, the strange half-light, the suddenly cooler temperatures, the quiet, then boom, the black hole with the bright ring where the sun had been … very neat.

OK, it was possibly a bit (a bit?) over-hyped. No, it did not create feelings of euphoria and a oneness with the universe, nor did it raise my consciousness or elevate me to a different astral plane. I’m not even sure I know what any of those things are or would have recognized them if they were happening, so chances are I’m not the target market for that sort of stuff.

However, the space aliens didn’t take the opportunity to invade (at least as far as we know), so in betting terms, the day was probably a push.

Besides, this was a celestial event and hype tends to be sort of man-made. So you can see the potential source of the problem here.

All that aside, the actual event was certainly worth the effort it took. Which was, basically, finding an open spot and trying not to look directly at the sun without those mini welder’s glasses on. Which shouldn’t have been that hard to pull off, you’d think. Sort of like not slamming your hand in your car door.

Those around us seemed to appreciate the event as much as we did. Maybe more, considering the cheering, horn honking and fireworks.

A note on that: Apparently there were a not insignificant number of people from outside the state, and even outside the country who came to Arkansas for the event. To them I say, yes, we acknowledge everything that happens here, from touchdowns to gender reveals, with fireworks. And some Arkansans celebrated the eclipse that way. If you were surprised by that, you should have done your homework.

I will say if there was one impression I took from the whole thing (more than, “wow, that’s cool” and “boy, there sure are a lot of cars on this highway”), it’s confirmation of something I’ve long suspected that had absolutely nothing to do with solar events.

It’s that in most relationships, there are two distinct types. There is the Fun One and then, there’s, well, me.

The Fun One is the one constantly scanning the horizon (in the case of an eclipse, that’s both literally and figuratively true) for enjoyable stuff to do. Like buying pancake syrup that sparkles or stocking the yard with Easter eggs for the grandkids or booking a rental in Hot Springs to watch an eclipse.

Guess which one that is my marriage. No, no, guess. It’s fun. And the fact that I think that’s fun is exactly why I call her the Lovely Mrs. Smith.

I should have seen that I was getting involved with a “fun” person early on. I believe our second official date took place when she talked me into joining her in wearing large, very hot bunny suits and handing out candy at a parade. Again, “fun” is in the eye of the beholder sometimes.

And through the years of our marriage, we have both settled into our roles. Hers is to suggest fun things that typically involves more effort than walking from the living room to the kitchen. Mine is to say “Well …” and then have her blithely ignore whatever my next communicate is and start making plans.

I’m also pretty good and experienced at getting luggage in and out of a car or an airport shuttle. You have to know your strengths as well as your limitations.

And I am painfully aware of mine and my part in this great play we call life. Which is why I found myself sitting in some stranger’s yard wearing bright neon green eclipse glasses (why neon green? Because the neon orange ones were already taken, silly) watching the pretty impressive eclipse.

If it weren’t for my wife, I wouldn’t have been there or have done most of the fun things I have. If it weren’t for me, I mean, I guess those bags would still be on an airport luggage carousel somewhere? I don’t know, I’m sort of reaching here.

So, if you’re not the Fun One, that’s OK. Be open to things and know your part. And don’t look directly at the sun. You’d think people wouldn’t have to be told that.