La Bella Luna, Part 2: The Poetry of Mistakes

In my last post, I took a picture of the moon on what I thought was supposed to be THE night that we could observe a “super moon.”  I was wrong….about the date of the event. My mistake.  TONIGHT is when the super moon was visible.  So this is my correction to the June 22 post.  I realized I made a mistake yesterday.  Initially, I felt like an idiot and I worried about my credibility as a reporter, even if the beat is my own life. However, this is my blog, I get to write and post whatever I want.  Therefore, in lieu of a one sentence retraction like you might see in the LA Times when they get the information wrong, I decided to admit my mistake and attempt a “do over.”  If I was in school, it would be like retaking an exam after confessing to the teacher I studied the wrong material cause I missed the in-class review due to a doctor’s appointment on the Westside.   Anyone in the Valley can tell you that a doctor’s appointment on the Westside can kill an entire day.  Anyway, the day after my last post, my Yahoo homepage had a story about how to take a picture of the super moon.  I thought to myself, ‘That’s weird, I thought the super moon was yesterday.’   So, I clicked on the link to the story and sure enough I discovered my mistake which also explains why I thought the moon I saw on Friday night was not very big.  Because it wasn’t.  I realize that I messed up because I was trying to meet my Friday post deadline for this blog. I felt pressured and bereft of story ideas when I saw the headline on Friday, but didn’t read the story. That’s how I made the mistake.I felt chagrined about my error.  But since there is no crying in blog posting, I went up to the plate a second time in hopes of having a hit instead of another strike out.

Tonight, I went out in front of my house and took a picture, though not very good one, of the super moon which was indeed super (see below). As for my neighbor, he had turned on the bright lights in his backyard  tonight of all nights, the night of the super moon.  This I thought,  was indeed poetic justice.

Finally, I remember going to the last open house at my son’s high school and seeing a sign posted on a teacher’s door that read, “In real life there are no make-up exams.”  And what I say to that is, “Bullshit.”

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