In Spite of Ourselves

Cindy Sherman, Untitled Film Still #48

Well, it was one of those days. The kind with a lotta highs and a few lows, too. I blame the weather. Delicious. Which meant salty skin and puppy paws in the sand. And brunch outdoors. And some good ol'country on the radio. And the roommate is outta town! And stale, skunky Corona from the fridge! And the kind of nights that should never end!

Lord help us. It was the kind of day a lot of thinking got done. Some listening, too. And observations, oh, the observations! Like the pup is afraid of the incoming tide. Or that going to a beach alone can actually be better than with company. And that that duet with John Prine and Iris DeMent is best sung loud, with the windows rolled down, and the speed gauge well over 70.

Let's get lost this summer. You and me. Let's sleep with the dog and get sand in the bed. Let's forget to floss and remember to curse. Let's jump into the lake and get sunburned all over. Maybe we run out of gas. Maybe we get a flat tire. And maybe we fight all day. But maybe, just maybe, we make up our own song along the way.

She thinks all my jokes are corny
Convict movies make her horny
She likes ketchup on her scrambled eggs
Swears like a sailor when shaves her legs
She takes a lickin'
And keeps on tickin'
I'm never gonna let her go.

He's got more balls than a big brass monkey
He's a wacked out werido and a lovebug junkie
Sly as a fox and crazy as a loon
Payday comes and he's howlin' at the moon
He's my baby I don't mean maybe
Never gonna let him go.