Crazy Weekend..Crazy Life..or Crazy Full Moon
This weekend past (thank God in the past) was reported to be the largest full moon in eighteen years. It apparently happens every eighteen years – like clock work…or rather moon work.
There has been, since I can remember, stories about the effect on mankind under a full moon. Some funny, some sad, and all weird one way or another.
When I started in nursing way back, in dinosaur times according to some, we saw the effects in our emergency. It is known as the lunar effect, sometimes the Transylvania effect. There are lots of movies and stories that support the weirdness of it all from werewolves to psychotics.
Scientists have done studies and most maintain that in spite of police and hospital assertions that the wierdometers go off that charts that this in effect is not true. I don’t know if some hospitals still add extra staffing on those nights but we used to. And it was always warranted.
Skeptic’sDictionary says:
“If so many studies have failed to prove a significant correlation between the full moon and anything, why do so many people believe in these lunar myths? Kelly, Rotton, and Culver suspect four factors: media effects, folklore and tradition, misconceptions, and cognitive biases. A fifth factor should be considered, as well: communal reinforcement.
the media perpetuate lunar myths”
I have witnessed the strangeness again and again and think one of two things is possible. First that yes we are truly affected or secondly that we embrace the myth and give ourselves permission to act out.
I can tell you from this past weekend that something was going on. So many folk were just plain *itchy. More than one would usually encounter in a day. Seriously so.
I pulled into a service station, a Husky, which has always had great customer service. The kind that still pump your gas for you. I sat and sat and no came. Hmm were they even open for business. Yup the sign said so. It was not until another car drove in that the employee came sauntering out. I’m all smiley, excited about the nice treatment I am about to get, when he grumbles, “how are you paying”. He says this twice. I told him Visa and he rudely says I have to go inside to pay. So I get out of my car and lock it as he definitely has a dark nasty untrustworthy aura about him. But perhaps the nice customer service is waiting inside. The girl in the next car also comes inside. She also is looking a little puzzled.
I ask her how she is paying and she say with cash. And he still told her to come inside.
Eventually Mr. Miserable enters (so no there was no nice customer service person inside) and I hand him my card. While he is processing it with one hand he takes his cell phone with the other and dials and says, “What’s up.” He throws my card across the counter and proceeds to rudely address the other girl over his personal phone conversation.
Note to self: Never again go to the Husky Service Station on the corner of Ottawa and Mohawk in Hamilton Ontario. In fact never go to a Husky again. I walk away wondering if a complaint to the company is worthwhile.
As I am driving down the highway I think that perhaps that chap was one of a kind and my high level tolerant self decides to move on with my day. I won’t let that one incident color my world.
Once home I go downstairs to meet my sister in law who is delivering platters of goodies for a bridal shower I am throwing. Her face is red and she is distressed. Seems when she pulled up a taxi driver behind her started yelling and ranting that she could not park there. This may not seem strange to some but here in Kitchener that is rare behavior. We are generally a polite people.
I had gotten permission from the owners of my building to use our party room for the shower. It is right next to our gym with two doorways to the gym. One from the party room and one from the hall. Well next thing a woman comes down to use the gym and proceeds through the party room – which is fine – but she moves around some of our decorations that the superintendent had suggested we put there to block off the room. She is mad we are in her space. Not just mad but furious. We had two bowls of nonalcoholic punch. I did note at one point she was leaning against the wall using her cell phone. Later the superintendent told me she had called The Police to report we had alcohol in a public place. The police then dutifully called the super.
When I was out shopping I watched others. Were they more somber, more agitated? It seemed so but then the thought did occur to me that perhaps I was just more agitated. The good news is that old moon starts to wane now!
bridgesburning 