The heat is back and it’s expected to be around for at least another week. As August sizzles off into a complacent September, while the newspapers are packed with Back to School and Labor Day hype, the final weeks of summer may be a repeat of last July’s month-long torridness.

I’ve been dazed and confused, locked within a state of lethargy bordering on catalepsy, during these closing days of August; not at all up to the business of blogging.  My wife and I were spending much of the time at the beach, receiving our fair share of sun and surf, as the heat was beating down on the town.

Bloomberg News reports: “The heat that descended on the U.S. East Coast yesterday is forecast to affect New York City all week, according to the National Weather Service, baking workers, back-to-school students and U.S. Open tennis players and fans.

High temperatures in Central Park are expected to be 11 to 15 degrees Fahrenheit (6 to 8 Celsius) above normal through the end of the work week, said Joe Pollina, a weather service meteorologist in Upton, New York.”

Indeed, summers nowadays are a far cry from the like of the rural childhood innocence of Bradbury’s DANDELION WINE, the melodramatic lyricism of Sandra Dee and Troy Donahue in A SUMMER PLACE, or the rollicking-frolicking tunefulness of Nat King Cole’s THOSE LAZY, HAZY, CRAZY DAYS Of SUMMER. Today, summer is, for the most part, overwhelmingly hot and not at all innocent or lyrical and certainly not a rollicking-frolicking tunefulness; then again, perhaps we’ve grown too old for such things. I can’t wait for autumn and ultimately winter when I could complain about the cold, not to mention the ice and the snow.


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