It has been very hot in upstate New York recently, so I can sympathize with this bulldog, who keeps hoping if he keeps swimming, the water will appear!
My father grew up in Springfield, Massachusetts, and blamed being cold all his childhood for his love of summer, even in Atlanta, even without air conditioning. He also loved classical music, which peopled my childhood with legends and stories. I didn’t even know the titles of much of the music I grew up with until I worked at an NPR station in graduate school, and a piece would throw me back into my parents’ living room, sitting on the floor in front of the record player.
It is going to be in the mid-90’s today in upstate New York, and I know my father would have loved to be in the backyard in the shade with a glass of iced tea. Today I will play his favorite pieces, from Symphonie Fantastique to Adagio from Spartacus, and strive to enjoy the heat, in his honor.
A fun exercise in conciseness. It also features a WANA friend, Jess Witkins.
I kind of have my dream job.
I write, all day. There’s food around. I love my team. Did I mention the writing and the food? And the laptop. And the company trip to Cancun tomorrow, and the bowling alley. And I get to write. All day. With food.
I think it’s more a dreamy job.
A dream job, maybe, is one that you know exists or hope exists or have dreamed up to exist. Not one you find, then fall in love with. So the dream job would still be a reporter for NPR. I have a jacked-up enough name for it.
Every month, I compile a post called “6 Words.” Ernest Hemingway inspired it when he said any story can be told in a six-word sentence. I ask bloggers, friends, strangers, and a few strange blogger friends…
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