Okay, it's the tail-end of June and I'm out here in Quogue with my little brood, squatting at my Mom's place. The sun has finally decided that it's okay to come out and it's just starting to feel like Summer. As such, herewith a few suitable items.
1. Don't get me wrong -- I was, am and will forever remain a massive Van Halen fan (my favorite album of theirs is their comparatively dark and criminally under-celebrated Fair Warning), but take a look at the bumper sticker on the rear of the flaming red Mustang in the picture above (click on it to enlarge). I should point out that here in Quogue, the local police department is basically just to the right of the Gestapo in terms of tolerance. As such, is the above slogan, "I can barely see the road" (a quote from the VH `84 standard, "Panama") really the most prudent thing to be proclaiming on one's bumper? Seriously, the cops here have been known to arrest people, handcuff them to radiators and beat them to a merciless pulp (well, so I've heard) for shoddy parallel parking. I'm just sayin'.
2. I'm old. Yesterday morning, after we dropped Charlotte (age 5) off for her first day of day-camp, we suddenly realized that she wasn't equipped with the right gear for the day. As such, I was summarily dispatched to run back to my Mom's place (approximately one mile) and fetch it. That's fine, but I was wearing Teva sandals. This is where things got problematic.
I never used to consider myself a sandal guy. For most of my adult life, my footwear adhered solely (pardon the pun) to Doc Martens and Chuck Taylors. The wife, however, convinced me to give Tevas a try a couple of years back. I reluctantly bought a pair and have worn them during the summer ever since. They're fine, but know this -- under no circumstances should you ever consider running in them. And that's precisely what I was doing.
Motivated by the thought of my little girl feeling like the odd man out, I hot-footed it back to my Mom's place is record time, grabbed the stuff and hopped in the car to drive back (why we didn't drive in the first place is beyond me). I completed my mission successfully, but ever since, my back and legs have been killing me (and not just because I'm largely outta shape). Once again, Teva sandals are not made for running.
3. On Saturday evening, my step-father came over for dinner. While we were having a couple of drinks in the backyard, he leaned up and said, "Now what kind of animal is that, do you suppose?" I turned around I spied a strange looking creature skulking around by the back hedge. Somewhere size-wise between a large cat and a raccoon, but with a white head and thin, rigid white tail, this mysterious beastie eyed me dispassionately as I slowly walked toward him. In no great rush, he turned and casually made his way out the back gate, looking a bit like the animal kingdom's answer to Peter Lorre. I did a bit of research on the `net and discovered that the beast in question was almost certainly a possum. The mysterious thing here is that possums are nocturnal. What this one was doing out and about in the early evening (when it was still very light out) is puzzling. Sick? Rabid? Who knows? I stupidly told my mother about the encounter, and she is now convinced that her property is under siege by a horde of venomous mutant-possums. Haven't spotted him again since, though.
4. On Sunday morning, my friend Christina posted a Facebook status update that a large ("25 ft.!") shark had been sighted disarmingly close to the shore at our local beach. Having spent countless summers out here positively straining to see some large-toothed wildlife, I was hugely disappointed to have missed it. Evidently, he swam slowly right in the surf, making his way gradually further east before dropping out of sight. No one's quite sure what type of shark it was, but he was certainly a big one. Later in the day, Christina forwarded the below pic that a friend of hers snapped with her phone. Awesome, right?