It was dark, very early on this past Wednesday morning. I was in the process of delivering massive hunks of advertising, each one weighing about four pounds, to rural newspaper customers. Somehow the American holiday Thanksgiving has been co-opted by commercial interests. So what else is new?
The sky was overcast as dawn approached, and it looked like I might not have any photographic opportunities. I’d just have to wait for another early morning with favorable clouds.
It wasn’t very cold out and I had my window down as I buzzed along the gravel roads, listening to a CD which documented the wonderful interplay between tenor sax player Lester Young and singer Billie Holiday.
Once again I was startled by a fluttering figure flying into my truck; of course it was my friend Eos, Greek goddess of the dawn.
“Damn, Eos! You always give me a start when you abruptly fly in like that!”
“Well, Larry, what am I supposed to do — send you a formal announcement?”
“You aren’t looking very happy this morning. What’s wrong?”
“I’m just kinda bummed out. These overcast conditions don’t give me much of an opportunity to strut my stuff. I gave the apprentice sprites some pre-mix Dull Red Glow to spread around, but that’s about all I can do on such a dismal morning.”
“So what — you’re gonna just hang around with me and try to bring me down too?”
“Oh, no, Larry! I was hoping that you could cheer me up!”
“There’s something I’ve been wondering about, Eos. Why do you single me out? Surely you know that I’ll write about our encounters on my blog. I thought that deities such as yourself try to avoid publicity; after all, this is an oppressively Christian nation, and in general people don’t want to read about old deities still doing their thing.”
“I single you out, Larry, because you have blown any credibility you might once have had. You write about events in your life, but you always seem to veer off into fantasy! Nobody will believe this post, for example.”
“Well, I can’t help that. So you think that this post is more-or-less under the radar?”
“Oh, yes, Larry. People will think, ‘Larry’s having another one of his spells!'”
I drove on in silence for a while. I narrowly avoided a collision with a deer. Eos broke the silence by saying:
“You think I always have rosy fingers? Take a look at this!”
I glanced over at the winged goddess; she seemed to have swollen and become threateningly large. Her fingers had become coal black. Oh, what now? All I wanted was to finish my route, but here I had a scary goddess in my truck!
“Behold, Larry, the Sooty Fingers of the Doom! One touch and you are toast!”
“Oh, cut that out, Eos! Gosh, you’ll have to try harder than that to bring me down!”
We bickered back and forth and eventually as it became light out the quirky deity flew off to take a nap somewhere. I was relieved, truth to tell. Hanging out with deities can be stressful!