THE DOG DAYS OF SUMMER

GOOGLE: "The 'dog days of summer' is a phrase used to describe the hot and humid days of summer. It can be traced back thousands of years to the days of the Roman Empire. It refers to the dates from July 3 through August 11, which is 20 days prior and 20 days after the star Sirius rises and falls in conjunction with the sun."

(EDITOR'S NOTE: I don't endure the heat because I reside in constant air-conditioning. My rent includes air-conditioning, so I have no need to suffer. In the late afternoon, particularly during the week when everyone is at work, I lie by the pool and embrace the first of the evening breezes sweeping off the Gulf. It is one of the most peaceful times in my day as I close my eyes and listen to the sounds swirling around me. I have not once dived into the water. I don't like to return to my place in wet trunks. Last year I swam regularly. I don't comprehend the change, but my subconscious must have its reasons. I try my best during these moments to free my brain from all pondering. It's usually the time I take my one milligram of Xanax. I relish the feeling as it envelopes my body. I used to take my dose before going to bed in order to drop off to sleep, but I didn't have the opportunity to enjoy the slow rush as it relaxed my body. And the half bar in the afternoon is still flowing languidly through my body when I crawl under the covers generally before midnight and after an hour or two of reading. Once in a while I might find myself in the heat because I'm on errand. I was raised in the San Joaquin Valley of California, which is arguably hotter than South Texas in the summer. As a kid my family didn't have air-conditioning and we would sleep by open doors. The temperatures more often than not drop lower there rather than here although there can be lengthy hot spells without the relief of our breezes. We, the Baby Boom Generation, remember those long summers as kids, but as adults we see the sand pouring through the hourglass as if it were a rampaging waterfall. Time inundates us and we're drowning without knowing it. Sometimes I think that life is a dirty trick. Like God fucking with poor Job because the former had a worse ego than Trump, and Satan, like Putin, knowing how to play him, we're the victims of a bad joke but hardly a laughing matter as death collects its daily quota while stalking the rest of us.)

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