Luna, the cow had heard the story of Icarus, knew its tragic ending, and all the TV talk shows she watched confirmed its moral: too much sun would kill you.

Instead, Luna’s focus was on the moon, and that other story, “Hey Diddle Diddle.” Most of it never made much sense to her, read like a psychedelic road trip through whatthefuckever, but the part about the cow jumping over the moon always fascinated her. Everyone who ever heard the tale knew what the cow had done, but no one ever asked where the cow had been going. Luna wanted to know. Did the cow ever get there? Was the cow happy?

Luna knew there had to be more than just that moment of mythical jump. And so, from the moment she first heard them, those six little words, and the cow jumped over the moon, shaped Luna's fate forever.

My father laughed after he hit my finger with a hammer. I sat crying and squeezing my finger and he said, “There’s a lesson here for you. If someone asks you to hold the nail while they hammer say no. Tell them that you’ll be the one to hammer.”

I did what he hoped I’d do and that was to extend that theory into all aspects of my life - whether if was sports, business, or relationships - I was the hammer and never the nail.

So I became successful, tough-minded, and learned to manipulate hammer holders into nail holders. I was also disliked, but not openly, and while not friendless, I certainly didn’t have a cadre of close friends I could hang with.

I am looking at your wedding pictures. I am looking at you, looking at her in her big white dress, the way you used to look at me on a Friday night. I am looking at you smiling and happy, happier than you were with me. I am looking at you taking your vows before God, head bowed, eyes closed, and in a church with bright colored windows. I am looking at you holding her hands and she is looking at you. She is in love - so are you.

The Hearthstone Party was held in a township hall a few miles from Nicolet City. I’d received an invitation in the shape of a teacup covered with the names of door prizes from two women I’d gone to high school with.

After three bingo games played with Indian corn markers in Blue Bonnet and Parkay Oleo tubs, a peanut butter pail with paper was passed around. I got one penciled VANITY and received a Pepto-Bismol pink plastic grinning Buddha sprouting spines to hold jewelry, and duly smiled when the women around me said, “Oh, isn’t that pretty,” “My, aren’t you lucky, “I can just see that on my dresser.” After more bingo, the peanut butter pail was passed again and I traded it for cookie cutters with the woman who’d said, “I can just see that on my dresser.”