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The gods are angry. I've done it again... the rain dance. Install convertible top... week of rain, guaranteed. OK, so that's bullshit. But intriguing, nonetheless. It's shaping up to be one of those summers like my first at the radio station... tropical. Soupy and steamy. Patented Virginia mosquito-breeder. Complete about-face from the desert of last year. This morning, though... like waking up in October. The calendar says "May," but is showing a different face, altogether. Steel grey. English-damp. Upper forties. But everything is still green. Funk... pronounced "fohnk." The atmosphere has got everyone steeped in this slow grumble. Even the ground has got the heebie-jeebies. I was told that there was an earthquake, as I was leaving town. 3.9 on the Richter scale or some such. A bit unsettled, this scenario. The pluses: writing here again; removing the camera from its slumber; arriving at work undampened; breathing. I'm still optimistic enough to want more. Hungry for wild emotion. Or is that selfish? The gods are angry. I've done it again... the rain dance. Install convertible top... week of rain, guaranteed. OK, so that's bullshit. But intriguing, nonetheless. It's shaping up to be one of those summers like my first at the radio station... tropical. Soupy and steamy. Patented Virginia mosquito-breeder. Complete about-face from the desert of last year. This morning, though... like waking up in October. The calendar says "May," but is showing a different face, altogether. Steel grey. English-damp. Upper forties. But everything is still green. Funk... pronounced "fohnk." The atmosphere has got everyone steeped in this slow grumble. Even the ground has got the heebie-jeebies. I was told that there was an earthquake, as I was leaving town. 3.9 on the Richter scale or some such. A bit unsettled, this scenario. The pluses: writing here again; removing the camera from its slumber; arriving at work undampened; breathing. I'm still optimistic enough to want more. Hungry for wild emotion. Or is that selfish?
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