Where you were during the heatwave of summer ’22? 

     I was among those who count themselves fortunate escaping to the beach, but I, speaking for myself, had a horrible time.  There was sun, heat, and . . . kids: three of the very things I hate most. I spent agonizing time, as a third wheel, visiting Revere Beach. I went for the annual sand sculptures contest but my friend and his lady friend were there for the beach. Oh, do not get me wrong, I love the beach, I grew up walking distance from one of the best beaches in the  world especially for surfing. The heat and sun are what I cannot tolerate. Give me an overcast sky, any day, cooler temperatures, ≈ 54˚F, and a more sparse population, then I can revel in the moment while enjoying the seaside landscape.

     Bare in mind, Boston has no beaches. I declare this as a native Californian who grew up and lived by the coast.

     Beyond the video and photos, the beach understood the assignment accomplishing what was intended: I felt relaxed. Although warm, I was overdressed to dip into the water. Instead, I stood in the low tide waves while my feet were awashed by sludgish, brown seaweed. In the late afternoon, we enjoyed a light picnic under the shading tree across the street from the beach while we listened to a band performing covers of familiar pop songs.

     I can admit I have an obsession. I left early before the fireworks to return home in time to watch the night’s episode of “Big Brother” and finishing listening to the podcasts discussions while in transit. Big events happened in the house that delayed completing my reading on Where the Crawdads Sing.