summer's beginning to give up her fight

Why the debates give me migraines: let's set aside the fact that some of the expressions on George W.'s face are enough to put me on edge. I absolutely despise the fact that every morning after these debates, I have to tune into NPR to find out how much of the candidates' number spouting and accusations are accurate. Don't misunderstand, I like NPR just fine, I listen to it every morning. But I can't stand that a) I can't trust these candidates to give me a straight, fact-based answer on very much of anything and b)instead of listening to unbiased journalists talk about the debates afterwards, I have to sift through the screaming banshees of FoxNews, and the spin brigade for both Kerry and Bush. I know this is going to make me sound like an old curmudgeon, but I do remember a time when I could listen to these debates, and really understand where the candidates came out on different issues. Now it's about who sighed more than the other, who came up with a better soundbyte, and who looked more presidential. Color me depressed.

On the other hand, this cracked me right up.

It's been unseasonably warm here, which reminds me of the best summer days I spent on the east coast. Those days when the humidity is just right, so that the night air envelopes you like a comfortable blanket from your childhood. I strangely can't remember why exactly, but I seem to equate such evenings with momentous discoveries. Nights like that shared secrets. I wonder if they still will.