Lazy, Hazy, CRAZY

Los Angeles, California

Pandemic or not, summer began as it ritualistically does each year. With the exception of winter, I always yearn for the next season up, and that is especially true for summer. Summer is imprinted on my soul, and the ghosts of many summers past come flooding into my consciousness. I clearly remember the two summers spent in Waikiki and can conjure up the lush, tropical scent of the islands as we would walk down Prince Edward Avenue or Seaside Street on our way to the beach. I remember driving my Audi on the 405 freeway one evening, windows open, blasting The Rolling Stones on my car's cassette player, in the afterglow after having seen them in concert the night before. I remember the summers of The Beatles, seeing them in concert and seeing A Hard Day's Night and the following summer, Help, both at drive-in movie theaters. I remember my mom popping into my  bedroom in our home in Burbank and saying, grab a sweater, we're going to Disneyland to watch the fireworks. We would get to Disneyland as many of the daytrippers were leaving and race to the Chicken of the Sea Pirate Ship, which was the best place to watch the display. Or later, in Northridge: We're going to Foster's Freeze. Do you want to come? I would be folded onto the shelf behind the front seats of my father's Alfa Romeo, which had its hard top removed for the summer.

The thing is, when you have the kind of memory I have, you don't just remember, you can actually conjure up the feelings, the scents, the everything that comes packaged with those memories. Unfortunately, the same is true of bad memories. The summer of 2020 will certainly be remembered through the rest of my life. I will remember that I didn't get to see Joel for all of the months leading up to summer. I will remember that my friends reached out to me with an almost systematic regularity. I will remember that I got a crush on Sanjay Gupta. I will remember that my first social gathering out of the pandemic was a lovely dinner party at my friends', Lisa and Steven's, home. And that we somehow, unexpectedly, managed to do a little salsa dance that night! I will remember that I transitioned into a completely different fitness modality and that I hit it hard. And that, as a result, my body felt stronger and more flexible than it had in a long time.

I will also remember that some double-digit IQ citizens, moronically decided that it was an affront to their civil rights to wear a mask in public, in the middle of a pandemic. I will remember how I struggled to understand this confusion. I will remember the protests in the streets after a sickening incident of police brutality caused a national response that said: Enough. I'll remember the anger, and the frustration at not having any national guidence on what our country is going through. I will always remember the tipping point, when our country teetered on the verge of disintegration as a result of a ridiculously careless and inept leader who offered a complete lack of the leadership we have a right to expect. I almost wish I would not remember this going forward. It will be painful. But, it will also be important, so that it doesn't happen again. It's a current, popular thought which someone texted to me: 1945 called and wants to know WTF? Yeah well, give us Roosevelt and Truman and maybe we wouldn't be in this mess.

So, that's the CRAZY. For the lazy and hazy part, you just need to listen to the music, eat peaches and sweet corn, and hang in there. Also, count your blessings. I wasn't an Oprah watcher, but I think she was onto something with her gratitude movement. You have to have appreciation for what is good, when things are so bad. I am fortunate to have the friends I have and to count new friends among them. The world will continue to turn, and we will find our way out of this. Even, I think, with some positive insight; the lessons learned through the isolation and upheaval. At dinner the other night, we talked about the positive things that have come into our lives as a result of our time in pandemic. And there are these secondary gains. So, if your June mornings are like ours here in Los Angeles, a bit grey and overcast, do try to look for that silver lining. It's thin, but even within June gloom, there can be a centering glow. Sometimes you just have to suss it out. And, this would be one of those times. It bears repeating: Hang in there. And thank you for reading my blog.