Late-summer heat metaphorically bleats like sheep, comical when it’s one but somehow oppressive when the flock joins in—i.e., a heatwave. Humidity, meanwhile, is akin to said sheep’s facial wool blocking its peripheral vision and blinding it to potential dangers. Some late afternoons and evenings, at least ‘round these parts, the rumble of hooves echoes in the distance, lightning cracks the clouds, and thunder shakes the sky.
If one counts the seconds between said lightning and thunder, and then divides by three or five, one can calculate the distance (by kilometers or miles, respectively) of the electrostatic discharge. The speed of light is that much faster than the speed of sound—though not, oddly, the speed at the sound of loneliness.
Lonely treads into sad, of course, and sad morphs into mad. Mad, in turn, lashes out. That sums up the Post-COVID Age, I think. Self-appointed arbiters of outrage yell on social media and TV about consequential and inconsequential matters as if they’re one and the same, forever assigning blame. Primary colors, in their view, trump the gradients.
Singer-songwriter Sarah Banker, whose Into the Heart EP caught my attention earlier this year, offers a welcome alternative to all the world’s angst and anger with her latest single, “Let’s Make Love,” which preaches peace, love and understanding. Call her a high priestess of good vibes: “Be the love you need/Kind to ourselves/Every moment is an opportunity/Changing our world.” It’s playful and sweet, light yet deep, a perfect song for summer.
The Old Grey Cat 