summer. hooray!

And just because I read this every summer, the ending of Agee's essay:

We all lie there, my mother, my father, my uncle, my aunt, and I too am lying there. First we were sitting up, then one of us lay down, and then we all lay down, on our stomachs, or on our sides, or on our backs, and they have kept on talking. They are not talking much, and the talk is quiet, of nothing in particular, of nothing at all in particular, of nothing at all. The stars are wide and alive, they seem each like a smile of great sweetness, and they seem very near. All my people are larger bodies than mine, quiet, with voices gentle and meaningless like the voices of sleeping birds. One is an artist, he is living at home. One is a musician, she is living at home. One is my mother who is good to me. One is my father who is good to me. By some chance, here they are, all on this earth; and who shall ever tell the sorrow of being on this earth, lying, on quilts, on the grass, in a summer evening, among the sounds of night. May god bless my people, my uncle, my aunt, my mother, my good father, oh, remember them kindly in their time of trouble; and in the hour of their taking away.After a little I am taken in and put to bed. Sleep, soft smiling, draws me unto her: and those receive me, who quietly treat me, as one familiar and well-beloved in that home: but will not, oh, will not, not now, not ever; but will not ever tell me who I am.*

And this from E.B. White, for at the beginning of each summer I take the time to remember my father and grandfather:

"Summertime, oh summertime, pattern of life indelible, the fade proof lake, the woods unshatterable, the pasture with the sweet fern and the juniper forever and ever, summer without end; this was the background, and the life along the shore was the design . . ."

Awesome, now the days are getting shorter again.

"Lovers and madmen have such seething brains,
Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend
More than cool reason ever comprehends."

Worth a second listen -

Another old one:

And this one is personal - but I've always associated summer with this Santana song from long ago - this song was engraved in my memory listening to it numerous times one summer back in my young stud days - since I've always associated it with summer days..............

C'mon guys. You're still missing a couple classics. Mungo Jerry and Sly, for example.

A summer classic:

I remember the summer of '69

Bunch of old bastards here.

One of my favorite summertime songs.

Summer my ass. It rained the other day. I'm wearing long sleeves today and I still feel a bit chili. It's "June Gloom" in LA, but this is unusual weather.

*

I had an embarrassing moment at work today. The team and I went out to eat a sushi place. I didn't realize this was going to be a "finer dining / hipster joint" despite being in Beverly Hills.

I order my feed and a hot green tea. The tea was very dark and a little thicker than normal tea. I took two sips and my mouth is starting to itch. I ask one of my coworkers if she can taste what's in it, but she can only say it's bland.

About 5 minutes later, I feel my stomach twisting into knots. I put $20 on the table and leave. Thankfully, no one walked with me. I threw 3 times while walking back to work. The bushes have a little extra nutrients.

I get back to work and they have my order. I said that I wanted one of them to have it. I said I was fine but I really wasn't.

*

I'm probably losing my job anyways.

Geez, Dave. Sounds like that's a job you should try to keep.

I hit everything between 53-102 in California, but I didn't make it to LA this time. San Diego was gloomy, though. Highlight for me was going to see the Salk Institute in La Jolla. In 2003 I saw My Architect, a film by Louis Kahn's son, who had been pretty much ignored by his father. In the film, the son attempts to understand his father by looking at some of his most famous buildings, the Salk Institute among them. I dragged by friend along with me (I was driving; she didn't have much choice). Tonight, I'm catching up on Billions on Showtime. In the episode I watched, two women meet at the Louis Kahn designed Four Freedoms monument, which was built after Kahn died, in NYC. One tells the other about the film My Architect and about the son's attempt to understand the father. I'm glad the film made an impression on someone else.

But I think, too, I don't really have anyone to talk to about these sorts of coincidences.

It's been 90+ in Vegas for the last two months, so I'm not sure what this summer thing is