Summer is officially over in DC. Almost everyone is back in town, the roar of traffic is almost as loud as the cicadas. It is September - except - all of a sudden we're in a little heat wave. After a blissfully cool summer of abundant rain, clean skies, dry air (which was really weird) now all of a sudden it's hot and humid like it was supposed to be a month ago.
It's September for sure. The angle of Brother Sun has changed dramatically in the last few weeks. But now - only now - are we getting typical summer weather. My body is so confused. I've solved that problem by way of a trip to the acupuncturist. Also I bought some super high quality tonic water. The gin I mix with it doesn't hurt either.
In the movie of my life, though I can remember far more traumatic years, I can't remember a year as surreal as 2014. It has been a B movie epic for me, no more, no less than that.
Every chapter has been bizarrely magnified. Simple tasks, such as buying a birthday cake, getting a new pair of glasses, humdrum events in the past, became epic stories. Weird!
The holy grail of eyeglasses was my plan to buy frames from Warby Parker, get a real eye exam from a doctor not as interested in the fashion of it, thereby being fashionable while still having top notch vision. I believed I could successfully buy a pair of glasses that didn't end up costing $1,000. (The lenses are always by far the most expensive part, should say.) It was my quest. Queue the music. Music sputters out.
I'm still wearing my old glasses. Yeah.
The longing to go to Paris was definitely a call to seek the holy grail. Paris was the holy of holies! Something important happened to me there that is bigger than the sum of the stories, though I did accumulate some very surreal stories indeed, such as the day I tried to go to Notre Dame and got spun around in the rain and the wind, totally lost even with my google maps, crossing back to the left bank no matter how hard I tried to go to the Marais. Finally I gave up, returned to the Hotel du Dragon where I lay in bed watching the Simpsons dubbed in French, and drank wine from the bottle.
That's a pretty funny story, especially the end. How about my soul retrieval at the Eiffel Tower? That was just like a B-movie, not elegant but lyrical nonetheless. Actually it was more like a student produced art film. The guy next to me was playing the theme to Titanic on one of those south American flutes, someone was renting time on his trampoline to passersby. There were other buskers about. That's why I felt no would notice me dancing around, rattling my glow-in-the-dark skull rattle, Eduardo. And then the sky cleared all of a sudden. Brother Sun was high above the tower. Sunlight streamed down the tower into me. A woman walked up and handed me a Euro.
A student produced art film, indeed.
This summer, too, has been surreal even though I have no dramatic stories to tell. I decided to abandon all ambitions for the duration of 2014, a wise decision I think. I've just been living out my life: seeing clients, walking around, taking pictures, cooking, hanging out with friends, going to the Matchbox bar, that sort of thing.
What was surreal this summer was the crazy cool, not humid summer. We had a Lake Tahoe summer with relatively dry air and highs in the 80s almost every day, lows in the 60s at night. That is unheard of here. It was a struggle not to take it for granted. It was surreal, a boring B-movie shot in lurid Technicolor.
Now it's September and hot, humid. Completely bizarre.
And the world seems aflame: Ebola, IS, Gaza, Ukraine, Ferguson, the children at the border, grisly beheadings, etc. Meanwhile, here on East Capitol Street, all is well. Today I'll walk, shoot pictures, sip a gin and tonic out on the terrace after I see clients. Then I'll cook a nutritious dinner and watch a British detective tv show. Peace is the prevailing energy at the chateau. The disconnect is bizarre.
2014: What a WEIRD year. I'm not complaining. I'm confused, also grateful for my good fortune in the midst of it.
Onwards to autumn. Shalom.