The Eclipse Is a Perfect Excuse to Eat a Second Breakfast
Things are going to get weird during the solar eclipse and there's not much any of us can do about it. Even if you're not inclined to place a Craigslist ad looking for a partner to help you conceive a child who will be on the "next level of human evolution," or drive hundreds or thousands of miles to a small Iowa town with a ratio of one portable toilet for every thousand visitors so as optimally witness the solar eclipse’s path of totality—it will still get wicked dark in your world while the moon's shadow falls on the earth as it passes in front of the sun. So you might as well eat a second breakfast afterward.
Sky wolves and celestial dogs are (probably) not attempting to swallow the sun as some ancient cultures believed to be the case with solar eclipses. But we live in odd and unsettling times that make just as little sense. Why not have a celebratory croissant when the light is returned to you? There is, of course, more recent historical precedence and we should look toward it.
In 1979—the last time that a total solar eclipse that was visible across the contiguous United State—Supertramp's album Breakfast in America was a smash hit (and Art Garfunkel's fourth solo effort Fate for Breakfast less so), a McDonald's commercial entitled Daddy's Breakfast showed a smiling pop bottle-feeding his infant before jamming down scrambled eggs, sausage, hash browns, hot cakes and an Egg McMuffin, and the Florida Orange Growers touted the virtues of orange juice and hot dogs as a combo that "isn't just for breakfast anymore."
Portentous? Who knows! It's a weird day and no one is going to get much work done—estimates say that the solar eclipse is going to cost employers approximately $700 million in lost productivity—and a total solar eclipse hasn't crossed the entire country since 1918. If anyone's that fussed at you about the few minutes you'll miss work at the widget factory, show up with a box of eclipse doughnuts from Krispy Kreme, apologize by taking them out for $4 all-you-can-eat mooncakes at Denny's, or figure out a way to fry up sunny-side-up eggs in the breakroom and reboot the workday when the sun comes back. The world is in chaos and this may be a once in a lifetime opportunity. Don't let anything overshadow your chance to experience the wonder—or a midday excuse to eat pancakes.