T’is the Summer Solstice today. And, it’s the first Solstice Full Moon since 1967. What’s the proper way to celebrate this coincidental event that doesn’t involve being naked on a rock in the Sandia Foothills, smeared in virgin goat manure, a lit incense stick jammed up each of the eight natural bodily orifices (count them), with one Ziploc bag full of hemp and another Ziploc bag full of live scorpions, pledging to the Transcendental Harvest Goddess that I’ll name my firstborn manchild “Iggy Lunar Lizard Bopeep”?