Point of View: Summertime

Summertime,

And the livin’ ain’t easy,

Sirens are wailin’

And the prices are high

Oh, your daddy’s at Ditch

And your mom’s driving while texting

So hush little baby

Don’t you cry

One of these mornings

You’ll get your own iPhone

Then you will turn your face down

And forget the blue sky

But until that morning

There’s lots more to distract you

With Daddy at Ditch and Nanny standing by

Summertime,

And the stomach turns queasy

Fish are gaspin’

And the E. coli’s high

Your daddy’s bit by a tick

And your mamma ain’t cookin

So hush little baby

There’s always Wi-Fi

“Travailler, rien que travailler,” Rodin said to Rilke, and that is for the most part true. Work — at least work that you’re good at, and, one hopes, work that you like — is redeeming.

But some of us work too hard, and our health — it’s no surprise that it’s summer as I say this — suffers because of it. And so it was that one of my co-workers, Kathy Kovach, who has made me look good week after week, year after year, decade after decade, came fairly close to being carried away by pneumonia this past week.

Of course she wants to come back right away. You are the best, Kathy. Don’t get carried away. I hope you can live easy for a while. It’s summertime after all.