Well it's Friday night and clear skies on planet LA. After a day of doing my best Chicken Little impression, and encouragement from a dear friend I know see, rather believe that the sky is not falling. I'm sitting on my patio smoking a fine cigar, lissinen to Sade and sippin on a mean smokey glass of young scotch. Sade is blaring and there ain't a helicopter destroying my view of the Big Dipper.
Dip was the first constellation I ever learned about and naturally I'm loyal to this formation. Not to be grossly cliche, I grew up on the south side of Chicago. Like any big city, it has good and bad parts. And despite my Mami being a poor righteous teacher, neglected to teacher me about the great joy of the Dip. It was my next door neighbor and best friend Boom.
One night outside Boom looked up and exclaimed "oh the sky look like it's fina fall. The stars' so low. Look at the dippers! Hope they scoop us up..." boom was two years my senior. I never questioned her authority but I had to know: what the hell was a dipper?
Like the big sister she was, she authoritatively pointed out gods illustrations as best as we could see in the city. Big/little dipper and Orions belt (though not visible). She prattled on about others and about falling stars, but for me the Dip(s) was it. No matter how dark &cloudy, bright lights/big city you could see it. Ready to scoop you up up and away from this silly serious world.
We were kids then. And now? Well life isn't double dutch, playing red light green light and sitting on your big brothers car singing Force MDs "Tender Love". Now it's rent, raggadey cars, child support, umemployment, no insurance, presidential bullshit and robbing Peter to pay Paul.
But for tonight, I will sit on my stoop, sip quietly while the stars conspire for my happiness.
Ciao for now kiddies.