A Bohemigrant Summer

Ah, the dog days of summer. Snow cones and soft-serve custard melts away in the Good Humor man's hands. Unexplained blackouts hurl grouchy New Yorkers into paroxysms of self-important petulance. Construction workers and layabouts too mesmerized by cleavage forget to tilt their necks to mentally ass-grab shapely PR assistants. Innocent dalliances made ill-advised flings over happy-hour margaritas. Comic book conventions abut pride weeks and outdoor afro-punk concerts. High culture meets low expectations on great lawns as mayors deny seeking higher office. Newsmakers drone on to a public trying to catch every minute of Paris Hilton in between commercial breaks. Men on soapboxes rant about yuppy condos to an audience of stray dogs. Ghetto children hose each other down as thousands of gallons stream forth from a fire hydrant. Bushwick freegans eat trash to save the planet. College campuses stock up on keychains and fridge magnets for orientations where strangers fumbling about awkwardly drop them into beer-sodden grass. Booming Reggaeton makes enemies of scraggly Jews and husky Latinos at the beach as python-shouldering beastmasters sell photo ops and cotton candy. Barbecues, porches, weekend getaways, island parties, Christmas in July, populist art installations, weeklong waits for gadgets...