The Dog Days Of Summer

   This has been the hottest Summer I can remember. I suppose it could have been worse. There were days the weatherman predicted a high of 108 or 110, but my thermometer never went over 106.
   This oppressive heat has made us all act a little strange. Even my dogs, who normally follow me around the house, inside and out, have grown very attached to the couch, and air conditioning.

  The most frightening thing I have noticed this Summer, there seems to be an unusual amount of crazy talk and irrational thinking going around. For example the steady rising of Trump in the polls. I normally keep my political views to myself, but this one...I'd like to throw some cold water on Americas face and scream, "SNAP OUT OF IT!". I mean, what are you thinking?

  Maybe the heat has fried our brains. Or maybe we are all just suffering from a BlueBell ice cream deficiency. Yes, our grandchildren will likely read about this Summer in their history books. Someday, along with the Great Depression, and the Dust Bowl days, they will learn the story of the BlueBell ice cream famine of 2015. They'll ask us how we survived. I will say," I don't know, but I didn't even lose weight."

Summer Radio

 
      I was never a Chicago fan. Maybe because I was never in band. It seems like all the band kids really liked Chicago. I liked some of their songs, but I never bought an album, or tried to see them in concert, so that probably means, I was not a fan. However, I heard a Chicago song on the radio, yesterday, and it brought back some really nice memories of a Summer, long ago, and a boy, I'll never forget.

     There's something about listening to the radio, in the Summertime. We can't forget the music played at the swimming pool, the lake, or in our backyards.   It's the soundtrack of slumber parties, and the nights we crawled out bedroom windows, to meet with our summer friends.( The ones in town to visit their real dads.)
 A certain song can take me back to carnivals, and camp outs, and sun bathing. I can almost smell the baby oil and iodine.

  It's likely I fell in love a hundred times, over just a handful of Summers. What can I say? There were cute boys everywhere, and music to encourage a young girls imagination. One hot, sticky Summer night at camp, one of the counselors, a cute high school boy, played his guitar, and sang, By The Time I Get To Phoenix. That night I made the connection between boys and guitars. I was never the same.

  I'm sure anyone, around my age, can remember the Summer we heard American Pie played 100,000 times on the radio. And, I'll bet you still know every word, and sing along, to this day. It's stuck in your head, right now, isn't it?

  I think of my friend, Lisa every time I hear Bad Company, or ZZ Top. And I see us, tanned in tube tops, and bell bottoms, riding around, with the windows rolled down.
I can picture Teresa, Mary and me, in sleeping bags, in Debbie's backyard, whenever I hear Hey Jude.
Paul Simon, and Carol King always make me think of sweet Shelley.
And I miss Ivy, when I hear anything by The Guess Who.

  I know I'm sentimental, but Summer radio stirs up memories of the best friends I ever had, and the cutest boys I ever knew.
 It's 102 outside. Might as well turn on the radio, and make some memories.