SHINE ON HARVEST MOON: I saw the moon setting into the trees the other morning, so I pulled out my camera and got a few pix. Since it’s autumn, I guess it would be called a “harvest moon”.

That brings back some memories. I was never an athlete; just wasn’t built with the body or brain for it. I just couldn’t coordinate my muscles thru time and space as well as other kids could, and to make it even worse, my arms and legs weren’t quite as strong or fast. But for some odd reason, I went out for the high school track team in senior year. I guess I was reaching out and trying other molds, even though it was clear that I didn’t fit into them. Well, obviously I never earned any points for the team. My long jumping just wasn’t all that long. But the whole thing was kind-of fun to do, and most of the kids respected me for trying.

But what I remember more than the practice sessions and the competitive events were the bus rides to and from the different schools where we had our meets. Put a bunch of viral, athletic high school guys on a bus stuck in traffic and you’re bound to get some pranks. Of course, one of the classic pranks was to get a fellow to put his backside against the glass on the rear escape door and pull down his pants, so as to make an impression upon local motorists. Once this was done, the group would spontaneously break into song. I’ll never forget those accapella refrains: “shine on, shine on harvest moon, up in the sky”. I can still hear those raspy young male voices singing in unison as the bus bounced along thru suburbia. And finally that half-second break followed by the coda: “for me and my gal”. It still brings a smile to my face as I wander the moon-gray landscapes of Essex County bureaucracy on a typical workday, 35 years after those after-school track meets took place.