Thursday, August 2, 2012

August, Etc.

August is the cruelest month. T.S. Eliot did not say that, but I don't care.

August is when people take vacations. Entire cities shut down. Small towns near water, any kind of water, become crowded with families so eager to vacation together they are willing to spend three, four, even nine hours in a vehicle with the doors locked!

No, it's true. But, don't worry too much, they don't actually need to speak to one another, since they are using various digital devices in order to avoid real-life conversation. Even the driver is texting. You don't believe me? Then, look in your rearview mirror at the driver behind you; your both reading and texting!

We want to fix the economy, the schools, Wall Street, healthcare, taxes, and rid New York City from its most insidious pest, the 16+ ounce soda pop.

But, we can't even drive our vehicles around the block without checking our emails, texting our moms, selling that Facebook stock. We can't even wait for the red light.

August. It began life as Sextilis*. Maybe we should re-re-name it Textilis.

Are you looking for a job, clients, investors? Hah! All gone. Nobody home. Do not disturb. Why aren't you on vacation? If you are not on vacation, you do not have anything to be on vacation from. Even twenty million interns take vacation days. 

August. Past 100 games now. The Mets have returned to earth. The Yankees just want to sit in their rocking chairs. The SF Giants couldn't score the Runs of August for all the Gilroy Garlic Fries** in the world.

Yankees-Red Sox rivalry? Where Have All The Red Sox Gone. The Kingston Trio didn't sing that, but I don't care. How can you have a rivalry, when all the rivals get traded away?

The only Fenway occupant who could get under anyone's skin is Bobby V, the new manager. Boston fans think he is from New York. How insulting. He is from Stamford CT. There is no there there. Gertrude Stein didn't say that***. I don't care.

August.

Caesar Augustus named it for himself, trumping Julius, who had added the 30th and 31st. Augustus would have felt right at home in our age. Veni, Vidi, Vici? Forget that. Ego, Mihi, Mehus! I, me, mine!

Now they're saying stocks are dead; they must have looked in my account. Bonds are the thing. Finally, there's a great idea. Just last night we were watching Bond in Goldfinger, who was trying to steal $15Billion from Fort Knox. He thought that was a lot of Money-Penny! What a comedian.

August 2012. And we're "Shaken, not stirred." Someone really did say that.

Ed Notes:
* Since it was the sixth month in the old Roman calendar, which began with March.
** Served at AT&T Park, home of the Giants. The stand is directly behind home plate, where the batter, catcher and umpire can smell those fries for the entire game, without being able to order any.
*** GS was talking about Oakland, but she had probably never been to Stamford, except on a passing train, in which case she would have realized that Oakland, by comparison, had there to spare.










No comments: