Wednesday, February 24, 2010

When I'm Rich and Famous

I will:
  • Partner with Lady Gaga on a PSA
  • Start a foundation and sit on the board
  • Buy an island and the appropiate modes of transportation to get there
  • Get book deals for all of you
  • Write my memoirs or a children's book
  • Testify in front of Congress on behalf of something meaningful
  • Send my kids to a school where they can play lacrosse, ski and learn Chinese
  • Fund a restaurant
  • Promote the budding circus careers of my nieces and nephew
  • Find good help (I know, it's hard)
  • Hire a personal trainer
  • Start playing racquetball with Steve Martin
  • Buy my parents Cadillacs

Sunday, February 14, 2010

A Love Letter

Dear Summer,

I am at a loss without you. I keep reliving those fleeting, hot days when we spent time together. I know you had to leave and you promised to return. But it feels like a lie. Maybe if you would just write and let me know you're ok and send me a picture, I might be able to believe that you'll return.

I look out the window now and the freezing rain leaves tracks on the window, on my reflection. My sallow face is dark under the eyes and tear stained. I can see some of the things you've left behind...sunflower stalks, the sandbox, the pool. When I go to the shed to drag out the snowblower, I can still catch a whiff of freshly mown grass that remains on the lawn mower and brings back memories of heat and lemonade. These brief flashes of memory restore me long enough to clear the driveway and salt the walk.

I did hear from your friend, the ground hog, that it will be another six weeks of winter, which was disappointing news. And Winter has buried me three times in the past two weeks, which seems vindictive, if you ask me. If Spring ever arrives, I know she'll bring with her the lilacs that you know I love. And the lilacs will give me strength to believe that you will return and we can be together again.

Your fireflies at dusk and your starry nights dazzle me. Your heat and even your humidity make me blush and sweat at the same time. Your brightness and breezes light up my world and carry scents of barbeque and sunscreen. Your bold thunderstorms shake the earth beneath my feet and render me speechless with their drama. I cannot wait to feel your embrace once more.

For now, I will sit under a strong lamp and take some vitamin D. I'll buy a pack of hot dogs and grill them on my Foreman Grill. I'll have a cold Budweiser and turn up the furnace to 90. Then I'll spend the evening throwing darts at Winter's picture. It's a poor substitute but I can't cry anymore.

God speed, my love. Return to me soon.