I like owls. I'm not specifically superstitious, (nor generally rational for that matter), but at several important junctures of my life, there have been talkative owls nearby, often Barred Owls. I sometimes fancy that they are trying to instruct me, (no, not like the arffing Son of Sam) to be less blatantly foolish. I have a predilection for predicting rainbows, (not a very difficult skill to master), (in addition to an obvious propensity for the parenthetical), and I thought that in the far far distant future, “Rainbow Predictor”, might be a nice epitaph or inscription for my former me’s owl-shaped ash urn. The moniker has nothing to do with pasta, the owl says. My dogs are not so sure.