Arts Heat, Fire
The way to read in Cal Anderson Park on a broiling day is to sit on the edge of the reflection/wading pool (humans used to be barred, but now it’s full of swimming dogs and children just about all the time) with your shoes off and your feet in the water. The other day I was sitting there with my iPod on shuffle and suddenly Tom Robbins was orating the last chapter of The Great Gatsby. Not a bad soundtrack to the sight of people running across a huge lawn and splashing through a pool. In the dead of summer. When you’re pondering your love life.
…the sodden Zelda Fitzgerald calls a firefighter to her house and when he asks where the blaze is, she strikes her breast and says, “Here.”