Someone Breaks Into Song

A song in his/her heart and a spring in his/her step, someone writes to tell me the weather:

“June is busting out all over…”

Which is untrue. Note that:

Fresh and alive and gay and young, June is a love song sweetly sung!

Around here, the sun is harsh enough to show up the squinty, haggard wrinkles in your face – or if you don’t have squinty wrinkles yet, it’ll make you squint ’till you get some. It’s been quite hot enough for things to wilt and spoil if they’re not put promptly in the fridge, and furthermore, someone in the courtyard below me has been playing ABBA all day. No freshness, no youth, no love songs sweetly sung. There are pride parades, of course – but somehow I don’t think that’s what Rodgers and Hammerstein had in mind. So June it isn’t, not in Los Angeles.

There were red, white and blue M&Ms in the checkout aisles at Target today; I suspect it’s actually July.


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