Down my street, one family is doing its best to pump up the Christmas spirit. They have filled their modest lawn with inflated ornaments, each about five-feet tall. On one side of the walkway stands a Frosty the Snowman and a Rudolph the Reindeer, both with scarves wrapped around their necks and big smiles on their faces, as well as a miniature Santa Claus and Rudolph waving from inside a snowdome.
Hot town, New York has been this week. Walking around, feeling half-dead, I've found myself singing the great old Lovin' Spoonful paean to urban torpor and release, "Summer in the City," to myself. It's remarkably durable for a song about the summer, a season that has inspired more dumb, junky songs than any other time of year. Doubtful?