For many years now, I've had trouble sleeping whenever there's a full moon. I won't get into the harrowing details of the sleepless nights, mainly because I don't want to relive them, but believe me, I'm talking serious trouble. Brooklyn Girl and our longtime friends never tell me when a full moon is coming. I don't want to know. On my computer I could summon in seconds the date of the next full moon, and of full moons for years to come, but I don't. My unwavering policy is willful ignorance. It doesn't prevent "the trouble," but it spares me a lot of anticipatory angst.
Who are these "scholars"? I know who they are: a bunch of sound snoozers, that's who. Transylvanian effect? Well, just call me Wolfman Boy. One of our best friends already does.