Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Summer Lacksidasical

The summer slips away silkily. Sticky, sweltering days find us pool side. At home, Winston seeks shelter from Mrs. Rosebud in the front yard. Even the children are keeping out of the sun.

Time slides sideways during the summer. Weeks tesseract. Before I know it, a week has gone and then another. I’m not busy or doing anything - just being in the heat and sunshine. The promise of rain fills me with a peculiar hopeful joy. Real cool wet - not pore slime and skin grease.

There is something about this season which just invites you inside of your body. We are all at home here this summer. Our minds are disturbingly quiet.

+ + +

Tonight, I ran to the shop for some things. Outside a young brother was selling his cd’s. I sorrowfully said, “Sorry, I’m a bit skinned until Friday.”

“That’s okay,” I’ll be here Friday,” he said.

I marched into the shop and picked up my stuff. But, he stayed on my brain. When I came out I asked him about his cd. Midway through the conversation he said, “I don’t need you to buy my cd to show that you support me. There’s all different kinds of support. Thanks.”

Turns out, of course, he wants to be a hip hop artist. But, he wants to say different things than bling and bludgeoning. I told him that was a very important mission. I told him I was an old timey performance poet. He nodded and smiled, he’d never heard of me. It was nice.

Anyway, I raced home, grabbed my cd and ran back to give it to him. The shock on his face was worth the petrol. But - I figure - the old have to support the new.

I’ve been finding it alarmingly charming that I’ve only been gone 2 years and nobody remembers me anymore.

+ + +

But, my son thinks I’m the most fantastic creature in creation. I don’t think he’ll ever learn to swim. Why should he bother when he can loll about in my arms and be swish swirled through the water? There is one human being in the world who thinks I look stunning in a bathing suit. (Okay - I’ll grudgingly and graciously say two and count my husband. )

I had business cards made the other day. They read:

Springer-Nunley Associates
a 24/7, 365 full service provider

Christina Springer,
Winston’s Mum

It’s a fantastic job.

+ + +

I can’t wait to hear Eater’s cd on Friday. Even distant, my fingers like pots. I have a good feeling about this little brother. And maybe his beats will be something appropriate for Winston to sing along to...rather than, "girl you're too beautiful, you'll have me suicidal, suicidal, suicidal."

No comments: