★ exclusive transcript ★
I, the Moon: A Conversation
posted by Junie Halverson · tuesday, april 14, 2009 · 11:47 PM
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the subject, photographed at home, april 11. refused makeup.
It is past eleven on a tuesday and the Moon has agreed to give me forty-five minutes,
"no more, on principle." We meet, as arranged, on the porch behind my apartment
in Bellingham. The Moon arrives early, which the Moon points out twice.
A peach-glow falls across the railing. Somewhere a sprinkler ticks.
I have prepared questions. The Moon has prepared answers to different questions.
What follows is the unedited transcript, lightly de-stammered for clarity.
For readers who wish to breathe along with the conversation — and the Moon
strongly encourages this, calling it "the only correct way" — I have embedded
below the Moon's preferred breathing exercise, which it claims to have
personally invented "in or around the Pleistocene, possibly earlier, I don't
keep receipts."
Breathe Along, At Your Subject's Insistence
four in. four hold. four out. four hold.
press begin
you have breathed with the moon 0 time(s).
JunieThank you for making time tonight. I know your schedule is —
The MoonMy schedule is the schedule. There is no other one. When I am up, it is night.
When I am down, it is "day" — a term invented to describe my absence. You're
welcome.
JunieLet's start broad. How are you?
The MoonLuminous. I am, as ever, the most-looked-at object in human history. Cathedrals
were built sideways so people could see me through the window. There's a song
about me in every language. Even your dogs know the word for me, in their way.
JunieHas anything changed lately?
The MoonNothing has changed about me. I am exactly as I have always been, which
is, frankly, the appeal. You wouldn't ask the ocean if it had a haircut. You
wouldn't ask a mountain if it was trying something new. Stop projecting.
JunieThe tides. People often credit you with —
The MoonCredit me. They credit me. Wonderful word. Let's keep using it.
I invented the tide. I run it personally. Twice a day, every day, on time,
no holidays, no understudy. Show me one other freelancer with my uptime.
You can't. There isn't one.
"I run the tide personally. Twice a day. No understudy. Show me one other
freelancer with my uptime."
— The Moon, on the porch
JunieSome have suggested the sun —
The MoonNo. Next question.
JunieThere's a perception that you are a quiet presence — that you reflect rather
than shine. How do you respond to that?
The MoonI respond by being visible from every street, every porch, every porthole,
every kitchen window, every car windshield, every fire escape, every motel
pool at midnight, every parking lot after the movie lets out. That's
"quiet" how, exactly. I'd love to hear it.
JunieGalileo. What was the look on his face?
The MoonOh, exquisite. I've kept it. It was the look of a man who had just learned
he was wrong about something for the better. I gave him the craters as a
gift. He named them after his patrons, which was very on-brand for him,
but I don't hold a grudge. I hold a record.
JunieAre you ever lonely?
The MoonNo. I have, conservatively, four billion fans. Six men have visited me in
person. Several wrote home about it. There are highways named for the
evenings they spent looking up at me. There is a brand of dish soap whose
logo is just my face. Lonely. Please.
JunieYou have a list you wanted to share.
The MoonI do. I've narrowed it to seven. I had eleven, but the bottom four were
unflattering to the rest. Print them as I gave them. In order. No edits.
★ The Moon's Seven Boasts ★ (printed in order, no edits)
I invented the tide. Personally. Without consultants.
I am older than every song. I am older than the idea of song.
I have appeared, by my count, in at least 40% of all good poems, and 100% of the great ones, which is a different metric.
I have no competitors in the night sky. The stars are, with affection, supporting cast.
I was the first thing six different children saw upon being held outside, ever, in human history. They cried; I forgave them.
I have been mistaken for a coin, a wafer, a wheel of cheese, and a peach, and I accept all four as compliments.
When you cannot sleep, you look for me. When you find me, you feel found. That is on purpose. You're welcome.
JunieA last question. Many readers will try the breathing exercise above.
Anything you'd like them to know?
The MoonYes. They are doing the breathing I have been doing all along. They are
joining a very old club whose only dues are noticing. The peach light
on the windowsill — that's me, that's been me, that will be me. Tell them
I said hello, and then tell them I said it first.
JunieThank you for your time.
The MoonMy time is the time.
The interview ended at 12:31 AM. The Moon stayed on the porch for another
hour, by my count, then proceeded west on its usual route. The sprinkler
ticked. The porch railing was warm to the touch in the places it had been
lit. I have written this up as accurately as I can. Any boastfulness is
the subject's; any kindness is mine; any peach in the margins is shared.
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