Housemates Are Like Shooting Stars

While driving back from NYC I saw a shooting star. It streaked across the sky in a fury with a tail ablaze in an orange and red inferno. Last night's clear skies were perfect for catching a fleeting meteor, comet or asteroid.

While I clocked in at 76 mph, this streak of light was moving faster than the Earth's velocity around the Sun, roughly eighteen miles per second. Sporadic showers are more common between July and December so I keep my eyes pierced for all kinds of celestial debris. Rarely do I see a fireball this close though.

I nearly pulled over when I saw it. It looked as if it was going to crash headfirst into the woods to my right. It lasted more than a second, I'm guessing 5 or 6 seconds. My trusty Nikon sits on the passengers seat waiting for phenomena like this, but had I lunged for it I would have missed the show, or lost control of the lane I was in.

Catching a rare sighting in the vacuous heavens always triggers introspective and reflection during these long and tedious drives back from Manhattan. Mortality is first on the list. Just as ephemeral as this universal fireball so are the lives of family, friends and my fading furry head dog Rocco.

Nobody I know died (thank God) but loosing both my housemates (and good friends) to a house purchase and a job switch this month is nearly as troubling. The obligatory search to fill my home with responsible tenants is a frustrating and daunting challenge. Nearly 10 years of interviewing perspective housemates to live with and you'd think this wouldn't cause so much consternation but sharing space with a stranger is no easy task, at least in the beginning.

If any of my readers are looking to cohabitate with a scruffy Golden and a world traveler in the quiet suburbs of Bethlehem, check out Craigslist and follow up before the end of summer.