The Mother of All Prefuncs August 21

They independently drifted to the fence overlooking the ocean. The blue sky above and the grey fog below were engaged in a Civil War of sorts. Staking their claims to prime viewing sites, the viewers placed their chairs. They wrapped and unwrapped themselves according to the element winning the War. Then, the Cowabunga clan waited.

Travelers from the east awoke in their parked cars. They yawned and stretched and claimed their spaces on the dewy ground. Overhead the sun rose higher in the morning sky. From the west, the fog advanced. Muted discussions about finding better viewing grounds could be heard.

Slowly, the moon began to ingest the sun in the misty sky. People were heard to claim they had seen unusual and life changing shapes. The Cowabunga entourage stood and considered their circumstances. Mr. Wicket, who had plodded home in search of more chairs, called to report that the croquet course was blessed with abundant sunshine and visibility. The exodus began. The Cowabungas packed up and moved through the mists careful not to encourage the eastern travelers to follow them, except for one woman with a high end Nikon camera who was cool and promised to send a photo file to anyone who wanted it.

Like a gypsy band, the Cowabunga entourage shuffled to the course, the secular vortex. Upon arrival, chairs were placed, necks were craned and cheap paper optics were donned for viewing. The Nikon lady had a smartphone app telling her when totality would start, when naked eye observation could start and end, and when the eclipse would end. What an excellent addition to the group. We decided to call her Angela, the eclipse angel.

Cowabungas began to speak in a binary language never before uttered under dimming light. OOOOOOhs  and AAAAHs were punctuated by gasping breaths. A great teacher emerged from the main Mar-a Lawno clubhouse with scientific viewing devices. A colander hat served as a shadow focuser. Cardboard implanted binoculars also cast shadows on a paper plate. A welding helmet was introduced. It was like a MENSA meeting of the seriously liberal.

Throughout the celestial display, amid the nervous laughter and silently offered prayers, bizarre musical references, arcane facts and both tasteful and tasteless jokes were uttered. Suddenly, an impromptu field trip began. The great teacher lead her acolytes around the grounds discovering and marveling at the upside down crescent shadows on walls, the upside down crescent shadows within shadows. Life as we knew it metamorphosed into the realm between shadow and light.

When the moon swallowed the sun, all were stunned by the beauty and mystery. The magic of the moment was pierced by Angela who said, "you may now remove your protective eyewear and behold the sublime," or maybe "take off your glasses." Our naked eyes adjusted to the darkness with modesty. Someone said that their floaters were miraculously gone only to retract the statement when the spouting, bubbling sunlight escaped from under and around the moon. The great teacher hugged everyone, personally air dropping good vibes. Hallelujah. Hallelujah.

After what seemed to be ages, Angela said, "quick put on your glasses or be blinded by the light and be condemned to perpetual darkness," of maybe "time's up." With eyes protected, the transit of the moon across the sun was timed by, of course, Angela and her app. People shifted in their chairs and described their innermost feelings about the wondrous event they had witnessed. As the light grew stronger, eclipse fruit was offered and eaten.

With daylight restored, the Sticky Wicket contingent arrived. Sticky recounted his adventure in the surf. He had paddled out on his loooongboard in the dismal surf to watch the eclipse. Sort of an old man and the sea meets the Three Stooges sans Moe and Curly. Unfortunately, Sticky's protective eyewear did not survive the paddle out. Poor Sticky.

Shortly after the moon passed by the sun, in the glorious light of the day, Mr. Wicket announced, "Croquet at three." Thus ending, the most magnificent prefunc ever and setting the stage for the first POET (Post Eclipse Tournament).