Summer was a magical time in my formative years -- baseball, swimming, falling in love, entering the world of work, becoming a husband, then a father.
Now I greet each summer with hope for more of that magic. It doesn't always happen, of course. Some summers are dreadful. But hope isn't deterred by evidence.
I feel a special need for summertime magic this year. I find myself confused and disturbed by the collapse of political discourse in our nation, by raging torrents of hatred on seemingly every front, and by the despair into which more and more people are sinking. I think we are messing up big time.
Seems to me this would be a good time for the shag, that iconic Carolina beach dance that requires an attitude of noble lethargy.
And a good time to get outside ourselves and be grateful for all that we have.
P.S. Note the new way of presenting links. Feedback from readers is that these curated links are helpful. They enable you to see the best of what I am reading in the dozens of blogs and newsletters that cross my screen. We are presenting all of our links in one section and, where appropriate, saying a bit more about why the article is worth reading.