I hold on to many good memories of the time when I was considered family, shared meals, beachside barbecues, all of us reading The Mephisto Waltz, later treking to the movie theater in St. Petersburg to watch it together.
London Broil was baking in the oven; the finest of dishes were eaten while wearing sandy swimsuits and flip flops and singing the tunes of the day playing on the radio. The pulsating shower head in the downstairs bath: drilling away the salt; stinging the fresh sunburn; washing clean all the cares of the world. And for that brief moment I belonged.
That was a beautiful summer; the Summer of '69.
Paul Mauriat, "Love is Blue" 1968