Summer is serious business. Its questions are timeless: Whatever happened to Frozfruit? Will the song of the summer be “Juice,” “Sucker” or “Old Town Road”? Where have all the kittens gone?
Let it never be said that May is monotone. Stuff went down this past month, kittens. Billy Ray Cyrus returned to the radio, achy-breaking all of our ears if not our spirits. The President of the United States of America presented a very large trophy to a very large man at the Grand Sumo tournament. […]
There are songs about winter, spring and fall. But there are songs about summer. And that’s no coincidence.
I sure hope you didn’t reckon on fishin’ this weekend. Sure, it’s flounder season and all. But the weather is wet and woolly, with wee ones more wondrous than all the ocean.
June is arguably the best of months. It has the Strawberry Moon. It has the promise that you will always be a bride. It has Wonder Woman.*
They tell me it’s been a “mild” winter. They tell me the globe is warming. They tell me a lot of things. I tell them: bollocks.