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Listen here summer baby

Then followed that beautiful season… Summer….
Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape
Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood.
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

trumbull island summer is magic

Summer for some people is fried corn, boat shoes in the park, cutoff jean shorts, independently-funded adult contemporary music, and bike rides to some pizza place on a checklist. Not us. Summer here includes but is not limited to: body odor, moldy linen suits, potato, and cheese burekas by the pound in holey and dewy plastic bags, barbeques gone wrong, twenty-dollar bills gone missing, starters’ arms and bullpens destroyed, camping for free and for pay, vacuum-sealing, the air conditioner’s box, getting the measles, sweating on the train platform, Billy Joel cover bands at Belmont, two-a-days, Mr. Two-Showers-A-Day, rotten, dead-air Sportscenters, wilting second-hand books, Ms. Undershirt-A-Day, spur moviegoing, shredded and curly cardboard diet coke and king can cases, Manon Rheaume drunk at the cottage, better parking spots, more sleep and less, Civic Holiday, pressurizing stretch runs, tons of tourists, cashing out and the subsequent race for rare joints.