aroo-o-o-o-o-o.

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dateline: oZ central

24 july 1996 11:08 p.m.

I wish the world could see what the moon looks like tonight. Not quite full, unbelievably bright -- bright enough for me to cast pale shadows even standing on busy Kalakaua Avenue, its five lanes murkily lit with orange streetlights. The clouds are scattered, like charcoal-colored cotton balls floating in pitch-black oil. The city lights wash out the stars, but tonight there's no vog, so they can't muddle the sky. I was on the beach, or rather, out on the small crumbling sea wall just past the Waikiki Surfrider (the most awesome-looking hotel around -- I know I'm gonna get married there). It was still humid, but there was a breeze. I just stood and stared at it. Sometimes I can almost fathom it. The moon. A sphere, with depth, too many miles above. I'm reminded of the description of the Vogon ships in the "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" -- hanging in the sky in much the same way that bricks don't. I held my breath whenever a smattering of clouds would cross over it. The phrase "silver lining," which calls up images of 70s folk songs, can't do the sight justice. The clouds were thick enough to not let the moon through, but around the edges... like gently curving cracks in space, or frozen lightning bolts. Awesome. Over a thousand years of technological advance for mankind, six years of meddling with computers and worrying about rent for me, and yet I can still be entranced by the same thing that made cavemen gape and drool. Gads! I'm watching the news... women's gymnastics at the Olympics. Kerri Strug, 18-years-old, fouling one vault tonight, hurting her bandaged ankle. She limps off, and then tries again. My ankle hurts just watching this. She runs, flips, then lands on the bad leg. She falls to her knees, cringing in pain (ah, thanks FOX news, for showing the clip about four times in one segment). U.S.A. got the gold. Strugg has to be carried from the medal podium. That's dedication for you. Get this, though -- all the fans and talking-heads are wondering, "will she be able to compete on Thursday?" Can we squeeze another medal out of this child before we send her broken body back to high school? Feh. At least pro football players get big bucks for having their guts pounded for entertainment. Or is this different? Not entertainment, but patriotism? Smells like an English 420 essay assignment: Compare and contrast the U.S. Olympics delegation and overseas campaigns by the U.S. military. Examine justifications, public support, media attention, and financial and human cost. Typed, double spaced, cite references.