If T.S. Eliot really did think that April was the cruelest month, I wonder what the hell he thought about August.
I’m an admirer of all the months, myself. But August can be a real bastard when it gets busy doing all its August things. So far, it hasn’t really hit us with that long grey patch of hot sulking days that I call Blade Runner weather, but it came close during its first week. Those lovely goats…
… out at the Ulster County Fair that week know what I mean.
I started this blog with one post in July, titled “On the death of Donald Bellinger,” about the passing of New Paltz’s great film impresario, but then didn’t post again until August. It’s been a slow start vis a vis things specific to New Paltz, as opposed to things more generally out there in the world.
I took an easy opportunity to lay torment upon our poor mayor, Jason West, who is a target-rich environment unto himself, in a post titled “Defeat is still an orphan.”
But things will be different as August passes and September arrives. There will be less about the strange world that lies beyond the hedgerows of New Paltz and more about the far stranger world within the bounds of Our Town.