And Speaking of Mottos

Or catch phrases, this summer's has yet to present itself.

In the six years that Cobra and I have known one another, each year fun in the sun (or Fun and the Sun) has delivered unto us a magical, wistful phrase that has managed to encapsulate the tone, breadth and tenor of that particular year's season.

One of the first was: "Yes, yes; it's all a rich tapestry."

Oh, and did we ever get mileage out of that puppy.

"I'm so glad you're here! I didn't think I was going to make it, and I so desperatley wanted to see you guys, but the--"
"Yes, yes; it's all a rich tapestry." [dismissive wave of hand omitted]
"Where's the bar?"

That was a good summer.

And then, a few years later, there was: "Suck it up, sweetie; take one for the team."

Which also served us very well; or, me very well, at least; the chaos, panic and disorder that we left in our wake may not have served others very well... um.... but, good fun was had by all. I'll maintain that 'till the day I die.

Last year it was simple. A.I. and I found it on a sunny hilltop at OM. We dropped the semicolons. "Soldier on!"

And we did.

Through music festivals and city streets and suds and drugs and fun fun fun.

And now we're about to do it again.

I'll make it known when the words arrive to shape the thought of the form.

Ah, words. Thoughts made manifest.

Ideally, everyone should be sick of hearing them by the end of September.