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Monday, July 09, 2007

There Ain't No Cure for the Summer Time Blues


You know, the lazy woman’s way around actually writing a post is to throw up a picture. Unfortunately, I don’t take pictures so I have to rely on somebody to send them to me, usually a few days after an event. And so, I’ve got my July 4 picture today. It’s me, Dan and the Governor.


It was taken at the Northern Virginia Central Labor Council July 4th cookout at the CLC headquarters in Annandale.

Governor Tim Kaine made a brief stop to meet with labor folks and say a few words to them. Some of the other electeds and candidates whom I saw there included: Kris Amundsen, Creigh Deeds, Brian Moran, Dick Saslaw, Gerry Connolly, Dave Marsden, Cathy Hudgens, Janet Olezak, and Liz Griffin. There were many, many more people there and I hope those I missed accept my apologies, but I didn’t spend a whole lot of time working the crowd because a friend of mine was also there and it was her first time at a public event since her chemo ended. There are priorities and sitting and chatting with her was one of them. So, I spotted whomever I spotted and my profound apologies to those I missed.

If this event wasn’t announced anywhere, there’s also a reason for that. It was for labor people, the rank and file who don’t go to Jefferson Jackson dinners, don’t plunk down $200 a pop and don’t normally get to meet their elected officials or the candidates for whom they will vote. This was their chance to meet and greet dignitaries.

Anyway, there I am, muscling in on a picture with the president of the NoVa Central Labor Council. Seems like the poor guy can’t go anywhere without this crazy, female blogger hanger on horning in on the picture.

It’s hard for Dan. For years, he was the guy who took the pictures and hid behind the camera. He prided himself on being the background guy and he admitted that he hates having to be in the photos. But as president, he can’t hide behind the lens and be the mad flasher any more. Somebody else gets to do that.

Meanwhile, I’ve been wondering why I’m so lacking in any motivation to actually write. It’s not like I have writer’s block. I have the ideas. There are a million things I could write about, things I normally care passionately about. Anybody who reads a newspaper and scans the blogs could come up with plenty of topics to comment on. That’s not the problem.

I just don’t want to.

Then tonight riding home from a quick dinner at Glory Days, some jazz was playing on the car radio. Somebody was noodling a sax. Now saxophone music can be searingly hot, like when Clarence Clemmons plays it, or cool, sweet and mellow. It’s an amazingly versatile instrument. And in this particular set the music evoked a cool, tall gin and tonic on a steamy summer night. Three a.m. in lower Manhattan, just at closing time in the old Village Vanguard on MacDougal Street, in the fifties, just like an old time movie.

And I realized it was the heat, the summer, the ennui of the first heat wave of summer in an urban environment.

By the way, for the next six Mondays don’t count on me to write anything – I’ll be watching the ESPN mini-series “The Bronx is Burning” about the New York Yankees, Billy Martin, George Steinbrenner, and Reggie Jackson.

So, lift a glass for me until a cool spell comes through.

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