I’m hoping this summer still has a few nights left warm enough to call for a midnight swim. The water temperature in the street pool is holding at 82 and it feels even warmer on a seventy degree night. We’ve had months of those this year and we’re spoiled. The neighborhood gets so quiet, the big dipper hangs overhead and the lights in the surrounding houses slowly dim while we sit in the pool under only the moonlight. The water is velvety soft, the traffic noise distant, the crickets just beyond the fence, the sound of the world in its place.
We have heard this guy before. He strums chords with ease, confidently and rhythmically right on. He does cheat sheet versions of the Great American Songbook, one classic after the next. We heard him last week at the Friendly Home entertaining the troops and this afternoon he was playing for my mom’s unit. He is a pro, showing up minutes before a gig and kicking it from the get go. He runs one song into the next, though, and that bugs me. He would sound so much better if he took just a short breather between tunes and let the chestnut settle in. He finished with beautiful version of “Over The Rainbow” and we gave him a hearty round of applause.
We were there for a picnic. Family were invited and for the first time we were welcome to eat with the residents. Of course the administrators were there too and they introduced themselves as if we had never met. The social worker even made an appearance. One of the members was trying to drink from the pepper shaker when we sat down and my mom was so tired I was was afraid we would not even make contact but she came around. I could not help but notice how much more interesting the residents were than the respective family members.
1 Comment
pool jealousy. do some vicarious laps for me please. at night . thank u.