Interlude

1972 election. Ed Muskie, hounded by rumors of Ibogain use, breaks down on the election trail. A man from South Dakota, of all places, wins primaries based on his anti-war stand. It is unlikely, but true. Where I live, George Wallace is the major Democratic candidate and wins all counties in the primary. How do I survive?

My father and I go to the beach where we've always gone less than a hundred miles north of Miami Beach where Nixon is being coronated. There are protesters in the streets. I want to go but would rather be with my father here by the blue water, eating liverwurst sandwiches and drinking beer, putting on the small green by the pool, and snorkeling on the nearby reef. My father's accident has left him self-conscious. Once a great, barrel chested man, he has become mortal. But we laugh and eat peanut M&Ms and watch The Galloping Gourmet twice a day before going to the Red Lobster. We talk, as always, and I learn the ways of rugged romanticism, of longing for other places while loving this one, of looking far across the water and then in at our feet to see the sharks and barracudas that swim all about us. Life is full of adventure.

The sun goes low and the evening breeze begins. My father and me as summer comes to an end.