Manhattans & Frank

“How’s your summer goin, Sandy?” PP asks as she settles onto her favorite top corner.

It’s late at Utopia. DL and PP have just entered into its heated sanctuary. Ahhh....quiet. At last.....

“I’m enjoying the long evenings,” Sandy sighs, satisfied and relaxed. Unlike PP. She’s just survived, and yes that’s the only verb for it, what might be the Most Mayhem Swim of the summer. So far. Usually, Oaktown’s lap swimming was an issue, but tonight, the ‘family swim’ had been Pure Pandemonium. 1000’s of small screaming children splashing, flailing, screeching, their parents encouraging such obnoxiousness in wild abandon.

“Yeah, they’re so nice...” DL agrees wistfully, lying down and sighing.
“Well, at least there’s something nice about summer!” PP jokes.
“What do you mean?” Sandy’s alert now. How could there possibly be anything bad about summer? And usually PP would agree. Till she tried to swim tonight.

“The pool,” PP answers, shaking her head. “What I don’t understand is all the little little kids in the pool at fucking 9:30 at night. Hell, when we were that age, we were in bed by 9:00 even it were light out.”

“I hear you there!” Sandy snorts. “That wraps my panties up into a wad too! We were always in bed early, even in the summer.”
“Yeah, I mean, I hated it, but.....”

“Our parents had their priorities straight. Put the kids to bed and mix up the Manhattans.”

PP and DL crack up.

“Yeah,” PP agrees, “I mean, I don’t think my parents drank Manhattans, I think it was some brown alcohol, like J&B or Cutty Sark ---at least those are the bottles I remember.”

Sandy nods, “It was a different time. My parents would invite their friends over, usually other couples, and they’d pour the Manhattans and the party would start.”

”Put on the Frank Sinatra and dance!” PP laughs, remembering how Frank permeated her childhood: My Way; Fly Me to the Moon; I Get a Kick Out of You.

She grins as the lyrics float into her consciousness:

I get no kick from champagne.
Mere alcohol doesn’t thrill me at all
So tell me why should it be true?
That I get a kick outta you!

It definitely was a different time. What did parents listen to now? PP had no clue. She was so far removed from the music of Oakland families. Maybe they just came to the pool. Well, obviously, half of Oakland did at least! And while, PP is all for kids swimming, hell she was a kid once who adored swimming with her family, she didn’t do it at 9:30 at night when she was 5 years old.

Nope. When she was 5 years old at 9 p.m. on a summer night, she and her sisters would lie in bed, the light still filtering through the drapes, the sounds of kick the can and random shrieks echoing from outside.

And Frank.
Always Frank.

Fly me to the moon
Let me swing among those stars
Let me see what spring is like On Jupiter and Mars

In other words, hold my hand
In other words, baby, kiss me

PP could use a dose of Frank right about now.
Maybe when she gets home, she’ll get him out, put him on, and do just a little dance.....
For summer.


Anonymous said…
Frank is quite the guy. But it's all so much more better with the story leading up to it... fly me to the moon utopia
Cj said…
Yes, Utopia definitely is on another planet! We could use some Sinatra in there! Thanks for reading!
Anonymous said…
Great story carol, I remember the sounds of kids playing on summer evenings and Frank too. Of course, I also remember that crazy don ellis jazz too, which was not so pleasant.

Enjoy the summer evenings, it will be cold soon enough!

Cj said…
If only Frank's smooth easy Attitude always filled the pool! See this week's blog for a decidedly 'unfrank' swimming situation!

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