If the phrase “once in a blue moon” means rarely, then the phrase “once in a waning moon” should mean never. Ever since I learned about the moon phases in seventh grade science class, I’ve developed a habit of glancing up at the night sky to identify the phase and give myself a gold star for acing Mother Nature’s pop quiz. But over time, that trivia turned into something far stranger. In nine years of casual moon watching, I’ve noticed something deeply concerning: I have never seen a waning moon. Not once. Occasionally, I’ll catch a full or new moon, but between those phases, like Mr. Miyagi’s mantra, it’s all ”wax on, wax off.”
At first, I brushed it off as a coincidence. But after a decade, the odds of this happening feel lower than the odds of finding no Southwest Salad line at North Dining Hall at 12:20 p.m. on a Thursday. In addition to scanning the night sky, I scoured my camera roll, friends' Instagrams and favorite movie scenes in search of photographic evidence of this elusive waning moon. Instead, all I found was an abundance of waxing moons. There was so much wax I began to think I was living in a beehive!
So why am I speaking up now? I think society is finally ready to hear this truth. In the 1690s, little girls would have accused me of witchcraft for questioning such societal norms. In the 1950s, I would be condemned as a communist for challenging any truths about the moon and thus the moon landing, though to be clear, I would never dispute the accomplishment of astronaut and fellow Ohio native Neil Armstrong. But I’m no witch or communist, merely a courier of the truth.
This semester, I enrolled in an astronomy course, hoping for answers. But when I raise my concerns in class, the professor tells me to “try and take the class seriously,” to which I remind her I am a senior business major fulfilling my Ways of Knowing 3 requirement. Even still, I can tell she’s nervous. Even a trip to the Jordan Hall observatory revealed nothing but waxing phases. But I’m not giving up. I won’t be phased.
Sometimes I think I’m stuck in my own Groundhog Day plot. Bill Murray relived Feb. 2 until he found true love. Am I reliving the same moon phase until I finish some cosmic task and unlock my true timeline? Or maybe all I have to do to break the cycle is start feeding my fish.
Speaking of movies, as I scoured the world's cinematic history for waning moons, I did find one movie featuring a waning moon: “The Truman Show.” Could the absence of waning moons be a glitch or the stage manager's oversight? It would surely be a shock to learn I am living in a manmade skybox. But this would explain why Notre Dame’s premier space club, IrishSat, has yet to launch its satellite. The biggest downside to this explanation is that it would mean the only people laughing at my jokes are paid actors, a crushing blow to my ego. If I am living in a TV show, all I ask is that the scriptwriters please incorporate lots of wealth into the storyline and perhaps a scene where I heroically save a child from a burning building.
Perhaps it’s unrelated, but I’ve also never met anyone named Wayne. I’m worried someone’s trying to silence the Waynes, and the missing moon phase is their cry for help. Lil Wayne’s been real quiet since this article dropped, and I haven’t heard much of Wayne Gretzky since he retired back in 1999. I’m beginning to worry about them. It could also be the opposite: propaganda by Big Wax. The bees could definitely be(e) behind this. They're probably looking for some buzz ever since the “Bee Movie” meme hype died down, and Jerry Seinfeld tarnished his reputation with “Unfrosted.”
The final, but least plausible explanation for this phenomenon is that I’ve been seeing waning moons all along and don’t actually know how to identify them. I was in seventh grade after all, and admittedly stopped paying attention in science class in fourth grade, when my biologist father told me I shouldn’t pursue a career in science.
I don’t know if I’ll ever see a waning moon again. If I ever can break this cycle, I hope to find plentiful waning moons waiting for me. After all, when it wanes, it pours. From a glorious gibbous to curvy crescent, let there be light (on the left). So, I’m watching the skies tonight. If the waning moon is real, it can’t hide forever.
Allison Abplanalp is a senior finance and accounting major. If she could change one thing about the English language, she would make "a lot" one word. Her least favorite month is March because every year she is devastated when she fails to pick the perfect March Madness bracket. You can contact Allison at aabplana@nd.edu.
