Rochester. July 2. Thousands milling about in the streets closed to traffic downtown. Dave wanted to smoke a joint so he went into a porta-potty and fired one up. Finally someone rapped on the door which caused him to stagger out in a cloud of smoke like the victim of a magic trick gone wrong. I worked off my Abbott’s custard by dancing non-stop to Trombone Shorty.
It’s summertime and Rochester has the jazz festival, outdoor weddings, sidewalk cafes, and pool parties planned. It also has gathering clouds that deliver, unplanned. How do people cope with the changes that have to be made on a moment’s notice? Everything has to be as portable as pie. Perhaps there are crews who drill during the good weather so as to be prepared when the rain comes. Maybe there’s a lookout who squints at the sky, a bald man who feels the first drops before other more hairy folk. Somehow, the party gets shifted indoors, the bride shakes the water from her lace train, and the band plays on.
Waking up in this light filled room, I’m remembering why I chose “sunlightseven” so long ago as my email name and now my blog handle. I was inspired by the old Star Trek show, the Next Generation. Seven of Nine was a beautiful girl robot. They made nine like her; she being the seventh, cool and metallic with machinery breaking through the skin of her face, like early steampunk. Do you remember Seven of Nine? Are you beautifully cool or somewhat robotic?
